Postwar British Fiction New Accents And Attitudes

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POSTVVAR BRITISH FICTION

POSTWAR BRITISH FICTION New Accents AND

Attitudes

BY

James Gindin

G R E E N V V O O D PRESS, P U B L I S H E R S VVESTPORT,

CONNECTıCUT

15^ L i b r a r y of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

G i n d i n , James J a c k , 1926Postwar B r i t i s h f i c t i o n . B e p r i n t of the ed. publlshed by the U n i v e r s i t y of C a l i f o r n i a P r e s s , Berkeley. 1. E n g l i s h f i c t i o n - - 2 0 t h e e n t u r y - - H i s t o r y and c r i t i c i s m . 2. E n g l i s h drama--20th c e n t u r y - - H i s t o r y and critieism. I. Title.

[PR881.G5 1976] ISBN 0-8371-8800-8

823'.9'lto9

76-6558

To Joan

186356

Copyright © 1962 by the Regents of the University of California. Originally published in 1963 by University of California Press, Berkeley. Rcprinted with the permission of University of California Press.

3

Rcprinted in 1976 by Grecnvvood Press A division of Congressional Information Service, Inc. 88 Post Road West, Wcstport, Connecticut 06881 Library of Congress catalog card number 76-655 8 ISBN 0-8371-8800-8 Printed in the United States of America 1 0 9 8 7 6

5

4 3 2

Q

METU LİBRARY

0020206386

0 N

Acknowledgments

I

SHOULD

LIKE

TO

THANK

T H E

UNİVERSİTY

OF

TEXAS

Stndies in Literatüre and Language f o r permission to r e p r i n t the chapter called " A l a n Sillitoe's J u n g l e " and a substantial part of "Images o f Illusion i n the W o r k o f i r i s M u r d o c h , " w h i c h appeared first as articles in t h a t periodical. I should also like to t h a n k Modern Fiction Studies f o r permission to r e p r i n t a very s l i g h t l y altered version of " ' G i m m i c k ' and Metaphor in the Novels o f W i l l i a m G o l d i n g . " I should like to t h a n k the f o l l o w i n g publishers and authors f o r permission to use quotations: A l f r e d A . K n o p f , Inc., f o r permission t o quote f r o m A l a n Sillitoe's

Saturday

Nigbt

and

Sunday

Moming,

Copyright

©

1 9 5 8 b y A l a n Sillitoe. M r . A l a n Sillitoe f o r permission to quote f r o m The General, C o p y r i g h t © 1 9 6 0 by A l a n Sillitoe, and The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Kunner, C o p y r i g h t ©

1959

by A l a n Sillitoe.

V i c t o r Gollancz, L t d . , f o r permission to quote f r o m the novels of

Kingsley

Amis:

Lucky

Jim,

That

Uncertain

Feeling,

I

Like

İt Here, and Take a Girl Like You. Penguin Books, L t d . , f o r permission to quote f r o m Doris

Vlll

Lessing's Each His Hamlet

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

of

Stepney

Oıvn

and

Wilderness

Bernard Kops's

The

Simon and Schuster, Inc., f o r permission covering U.S. rights to quote f r o m İn Pursuit of the English, C o p y r i g h t © 1 9 6 0 by Doris Lessing,

and My Friend Judas, C o p y r i g h t ©

1959

by

M a c G i b b o n and Kee, L t d . , f o r permission covering Brit is h rights to quote f r o m In Pursuit of the English by Doris Lessing. Faber and Faber, L t d . , f o r permission covering British rights to quote f r o m My Friend Judas by A n d r e w Sinclair; Af ter the Rain and The Centre of the Green by John B o w e n ; Lor d of the and

Free

by

Fail

William

Golding;

and

Look Back in Anger by John Osborne. A c k n o w l e d g m e n t s are also due Faber and Faber, L t d . , f o r permission covering ali rights to quote f r o m Storyboard by John Bowen and The Inheritors by William Golding. I v a n Obolensky, Inc., f o r permission covering A m e r i c a n rights to quote f r o m The Centre of the Green, C o p y r i g h t © 1 9 5 9 by John Bowen. W . W . N o r t o n & C o m p a n y , Inc., f o r permission t o quote f r o m Billy Liar by K e i t h Waterhouse. M a r t i n Secker & W a r b u r g , L t d . , Preseni

by John W a i n , Attitudes,

The

and

Middle

from

Age

publishers

of

The

Writer's

Signet

Dilemma;

İt Ali; W. H. A i l e n , L t d . , Brit ish publishers of A l a n Sillitoe's novels; A l f r e d A . K n o p f , Inc., A m e r i c a n publishers o f The and

The

Loneliness

of

the

Long-Distance

Runner

by

A l a n Sillitoe, and of Born in Captivity by John W a i n ; Jonathan Cape, L t d . , publishers of A r n o l d

Wesker's l'm Talking about

Jerusalem; C r i t e r i o n Books, Inc., A m e r i c a n publishers of John Osborne's

Look

Joseph, L t d . , Chief's

Country,

Mart ha

Quest,

Back

in

Anger

and

The

The and

Grass Going

Is

Home

Singing, by

Michael

Entertainer;

Brit ish publishers of Retreat to A

Doris

Innocence, Old Propcr

Marriage,

Lessing;

Penguin

Books, L t d . , publishers of Five by Doris Lessing; Longmans, Green & Co., L t d . , publishers of D a v i d Storey's This Sporting Life; C h a t t o & W i n d u s , L t d . , publishers of The Truth Will Not Help Us by J o h n Bowen and The Uses of Literacy by R i c h a r d H o g g a r t ; M a c m i l l a n , L t d . , L o n d o n , B r i t i s h publishers of The Contenders,

A Travelling

Woman,

and

by

Nuncle

John

Wain;

T h e V i k i n g Press, Inc., A m e r i c a n publishers of Hemlock and After,

Anglo-Saxon

Attitudes,

The

Middle

Age

of

Mrs.

Eliot,

and The Old Men at the Zoo by A n g u s W i l s o n ; Faber & Faber, f o r permission

covering

Brit is h rights to quote f r o m Hurry On Down and Living in the Saxon

Press,

Books, Inc., A m e r i c a n publishers of A n t h o n y G l y n ' s 1 Can Take

General

A n d r e w Sinclair.

Flies, Pincher Martin,

A m e r i c a n publishers o f the novels o f Kingsley A m i s ; O x f o r d University

Green.

IX

Hemlock and Af ter, Anglo-

of Mrs.

Eliot,

and

The

Old

Men at the Zoo by A n g u s W i l s o n .

L t d . , publishers of The Breaking of Bumbo by A n d r e w Sinclair, A High-pitched Buzz by Roger L o n g r i g g , and Justine, Balthazar, Mountolive, and Clea by Lawrence D u r r e l l ;

H a r c o u r t , Brace,

Inc.,

Flies

American

publishers

of Lord

of

the

by

William

G o l d i n g ; Charles Scribner's Sons, I n c . , A m e r i c a n publishers of

T h e V i k i n g Press, Inc., A m e r i c a n publishers, f o r permission

Homecomings by C. P. Snow; V i c t o r Gollancz, L t d . , publishers

to use quotations f r o m the f o l l o w i n g novels by iris M u r d o c h :

of Ritual in the Hark by C o l i n W i l s o n ; T h e A m e r i c a n Heritage

The Flight from the Enchanter, C o p y r i g h t 1 9 5 6 by i r i s M u r d o c h ;

Publishing Co. publishers of Horizon magazine; and the p u b ­

Under the Net, C o p y r i g h t

lishers of The New Yorker magazine.

1954

by i r i s M u r d o c h ;

The Bell,

C o p y r i g h t 1 9 5 8 by iris M u r d o c h ; A Severed Head, C o p y r i g h t 1 9 6 1 b y iris M u r d o c h . C h a t t o and W i n d u s , L t d . , f o r permission covering Brit is h rights to quote f r o m The Flight from the Enchanter, Under the Net, The Bell, and A Severed Head by iris M u r d o c h . I should also like to t h a n k the f o l l o w i n g : Doubleday, Inc.,

I am indebted to the staff of the U n i v e r s i t y of C a l i f o r n i a Press, p a r t i c u l a r l y to Geoffrey A s h t o n and M r s . Grace Stimson. For comments and suggestions, some of w h i c h they m a y n o t have realized they were m a k i n g , I wish to t h a n k H a z a r d A d a m s , M a r v i n Felheim, and Geoffrey H i l l . M y debt t o D o n a l d H a i l i s

X

ACKNO\VLEDGMENTS

m u c h greatcr. He carefully read the entire manuscript and made a large n u m b e r of pertinent, detailed, and sympathetic c o m ments. F i n a l l y , I wish to acknowledge my enormous g r a t i t u d e to my w i f e , Joan G i n d i n . N o t o n l y did she encourage me consiste n t l y and type most of the manuscript, but she constantly offered l u c i d and intelligent a r g u m c n t in order to help me discover w h a t I w a n t e d to say. J. G. A n n Arbor, Michigan March 4 , 1 9 6 2

Contents

1 T H E F I R S T STEPS

A L A N SİLLİTOE'S J U N G L E

1

14

3 K I N G S L E Y AMIS' F U N N Y N O V E L S

34

4 A N G E R AS A F F I R M A T I O N

51

5 D O R I S LESSING'S I N T E N S E C O M M I T M E N T

65

6 E D U C A T I O N A N D T H E C O N T E M P O R A R Y CLASS STRUCTURE

87

Xıı

CONTENTS 7

C R E E P I N G AMERICANISM

109

8 T H E M O R A L C E N T E R OF J O H N WAIN'S F I C T I O N

. . 128

9 A N G U S WILSON'S Q U A L I F I E D N A T I O N A L I S M

145

10 COMEDY AND UNDERSTATEMENT

165

The First Steps

11 IMAGES O F I L L U S I O N I N T H E W O R K O F İRİS MURDOCH

178 I N 1 9 4 6 P H I L I P L A R K I N , T H E POET, PUBLISHED A N O V E L

12 "GIMMICK" A N D M E T A P H O R I N T H E N O V E L S O F WILLIAM GOLDİNG

called Jill. In the novel a y o u n g m a n f r o m the Lancashire w o r k 196

is so apprehensive about the etiquette of eating in railwa y car-

13 SOME C U R R E N T FADS

i n g class, J o h n K e m p , comes d o w n to O x f o r d on the t r a i n . He riages t h a t he rushes i n t o the lavatory and bolts the door in

207

14

order to eat the sandwichcs his mother has c a r e f u l l y prepared for h i m . At O x f o r d , John is self-conscious, i l i at ease, far too deferential t o w a r d his roommate

IDENTITY AND T H E EXISTENTIAL

226

NOTES ON T H E AUTHORS

239

(Christopher W a r n e r , a suave,

elegant, and callous y o u n g m a n f r o m L o n d o n ) . John of ten feels like the stableboy i n v i t e d , as a consciously democratic gesture, to tea at the manor house. The sons of the w o r k i n g class m a y come to O x f o r d (as W h i t b r e a d does in the novel) to study h a r d , isolate themselves in their rooms w i t h books and bad coffee, prepare themselves assiduously f o r careers in W o r k e r s ' Education. B u t J o h n wants m o r e : the w i t , the glamour, and the ease of O x f o r d l i f e . In the novel, set in 1 9 4 0 , John finds the distance between his Lancashire b a c k g r o u n d and the O x f o r d he wants impossible to bridge. Because he is rejected by Christopher W a r n e r ' s set ( t h e y regard h i m as gauche and " s t u f f e d " ) and, i n t u r n , rejects W h i t b r e a d ' s O x f o r d o f careful accumulation,

2

THE

FIRST

THE

STEPS

John can o n l y retreat i n t o an impossible fantasy t h a t b o t h intensifies his loneliness and dissipates the force of the novel. Since the end of W o r l d W a r I I , the issues have been m u c h less clear. A l t h o u g h John K e m p is stili self-conscious and class distinctions s t i l i exist, he is no longer quite so deferential t o w a r d his w e l l - b r e d superiors, and the distance between Lancashire and O x f o r d is n o t quite so vast or so easily demonstrable. John K e m p is no longer a curiosity. He is b o t h more complex and more central to B r i t i s h society. A n d , in the past ten years or so, as evident in the w o r k of Kingsley A m i s , John \ V a i n , John Osborne, i r i s M u r d o c h , and numerous others, he has become a T h i s k i n d of hero, the i n t e l l i g e n t and irreverent y o u n g man f r o m the lower or lower middle classes, educated by scholarship b u t let loose in a society s t i l i permeated by class d i s t i n c t i o n and respect for breeding, has been fixed by m a n y journals and as a contemporary phenomenon.

Arguments,

STEPS

3

English t r a d i t i o n . Richardson and F i e l d i n g dealt extensively with

class

distinctions

and

struggles

in

eighteenth-century

society and, a c e n t u r y later, Dickens, T r o l l o p e , and then H a r d y f r e q u e n t l y used the theme of the y o u n g m a n f r o m the lower or lower m i d d l e classes a t t e m p t i n g to enter a more urbane and cosmopolitan society. Class lines, t h r o u g h o u t the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, were n o t prescribed w i t h absolute, i m mutable r i g i d i t y , although the problems and the stresses h o l d ­ i n g back the y o u n g man of energy were i n v a r i a b l y greater t h a n the opportunities before h i m . I n the t w e n t i e t h c e n t u r y , however, and p a r t i c u l a r l y since the end o f W o r l d W a r I I , the y o u n g m a n finds m o v i n g f r o m one class to another superfıcially easier. He

p r i n c i p a l character in B r i t i s h fiction and drama.

reviews

FIRST

based

on superficial labels like " a n g r y y o u n g m e n , " concerned w i t h whether or n o t J i m D i x o n ' s preference for beer w i l l u l t i m a t e l y r u i n B r i t a i n , neglect the issues o f the novel i n w h i c h J i m D i x o n appears, b u t these arguments, by their very existence, do show that the novels bear some relevance to contemporary society. The heroes in novels by A m i s , W a i n , K e i t h Waterhouse, and others b o t h reflect the postwar B r i t i s h society and demonstrate a good deal of s i m i l a r i t y w i t h one another. These heroes are ali better educated t h a n their fathers were, although they f r e q u e n t ly retain an emotional allegiance to their fathers' habits and a t t i tudes; they are ali concerned w i t h g e t t i n g jobs and w o m e n in a competitive society; they care about h o w one behaves in pubs and at cocktail parties; they ali berate the aristocracy's emotional v a c u i t y , a l t h o u g h they o f t e n , in v a r y i n g degrees, envy the aristocracy's smooth composure; they ali w o r r y about h o w they can operate in a w o r l d in w h i c h they exert o n l y v e r y l i m i t e d c o n t r o l . In other words, these are ali novels of c o n d u c t and of class placed in contemporary, usually urban, society. T h e novel of conduct and class is certainly n o t new in the

m a y earn a g r a n t to study at the u n i v e r s i t y , and the marks of accent and appearance are less completely di st i nct i ve in c on­ t e m p o r a r y B r i t a i n . H a r d y ' s Jude the Obscure was, no matter w h a t his a m b i t i o n , i n d e l i b l y categorized as a stonemason w i t h a rustic b a c k g r o u n d . K e i t h Waterhouse's B i l l y L i a r , in contrast, is b o t h less m a r k e d and less explained as a y o u n g man w h o , the son of a haulage contractor in a g r i m y Y o r k s h i r e t o w n , halfheartedly w o r k s in a funeral office. B u t i f , for H a r d y ' s hero, the b a c k g r o u n d f r o m w h i c h he wished to escape was f i r m e r and stronger, so also was his aspiration strong and definite. C h r i s t minster, no matter h o w impossible for Jude, was a fixed and u n v a r y i n g aspiration, representing the t r u t h , beauty, and d i g n i t y of scholarship. B i l l y Liar's aspirations are far more vague; he is, in ways, wiser t h a n Jude, b u t he has less sense of where he wants to go. In the nineteenth-century novel of class, the alternatives were more apt to be fixed. N o t that the hero had an easy time choosing between the alternatives, for easy choice w o u l d signify simplification in any c e n t u r y , b u t b o t h the b a c k g r o u n d and the aspiration or aim were apt to be t h o u g h t of as more f i r m and definite entities, no matter h o w irreconcilable w i t h each other. T h e contemporary novel of class, however, depicts a society of somewhat greater m o b i l i t y in w h i c h the hero is apt to be a good deal less sure of f r o m w h a t or to w h a t he is m o v i n g . T h e basic p r o b l e m of the novel of class and conduct, the issue

4

THE

FIRST

THE

STEPS

FIRST

STEPS

5

of h o w the hero can come or n o t come t o ' t e r m s w i t h himself

m a t i c privilege of an inherited position w i t h i n the Establish-

and his flexible w o r l d , is the same as it was d u r i n g the eighteenth

m e n t . T h e search f o r a lower-class perspective is often deliberate;

and nineteenth centuries. B u t the terms themselves are vastly

D o r i s Lessing, at the b e g i n n i n g of her documentary called In

different, and, in a society in w h i c h change seems to accelerate

Pursuit of the English, states t h a t w h e n she arrived in E n g l a n d ,

geometrically, the tone also seems significantly different f r o m

h a v i n g been b r o u g h t up in Southern Rhodesia, she spent her

t h a t apparent in earlier f i c t i o n .

t i m e " i n p u r s u i t of the working-class" as material f o r her

E a r l y in the t w e n t i e t h c e n t u r y w r i t e r s realized t h a t values and alternatives in society were becoming far less fixed and secure. In p a r t because of r a p i d l y changing values of conduct and class, novels f r e q u e n t l y tended to center on personal and metaphysical issues, to use social issues o n l y as t e m p o r a r y decor a t i o n for the structure of permanent metaphysical and personal concerns. A r n o l d Bennett, for example, despite ali his precise and acute social observation, was more interested in demonstrati n g a general theory about t i m e t h a n in dealing p r o f o u n d l y w i t h conduct and class. A n d w h e n novels of this period d i d deal w i t h class, novels such as E. M. Forster's Howards End or V i r g i n i a W o o l f ' s To The Lighthoııse, they tended to v i ew class issues f r o m the perspective of the vanishing intellectual aristocracy. C e r t a i n l y the portraits of Leonard Bast and Charles Tansley are given f r o m a r e g r e t f u l and condescending p o i n t of v i c w . Y e t neither novel can be judged by its p o r t r a i t of the aspiring y o u n g m a n f r o m the Iower classes, for Forster's novel depends on per­ sonal relationships among the equally c u l t i v a t e d and M r s . W o o l f ' s is b o t h a personal and a metaphysical vision. The novel of c o n ­ duct and class (except, t o some extent, i n the w o r k o f D . H . Lawrence) gave w a y to other, less t r a d i t i o n a l means of dealing w i t h the q u i c k l y altering values of the t w e n t i e t h c e n t u r y . Since the end o f W o r l d W a r I I , however, m a n y y o u n g w r i t c r s have been a t t e m p t i n g to r e t u r n to a t r a d i t i o n a l nineteenth-century theme, the theme of h o w a m a n w o r k s his w a y t h r o u g h society, w i t h a characteristic t w e n t i e t h - c e n t u r y lack of assurance about w h a t the m a n or the society is really l i k e . I n o u t l i n i n g a society f u l l o f class changes, judgments, and distinctions, these contemporary writers often e x h i b i t and express sympathy f o r the lower classes, for those not granted the auto-

f i c t i o n . She d i d n o t f i n d the rugged, sensitive, innately honest and perceptive proletariat she sought. J o h n K e m p or A m i s ' J i m D i x o n is also n o t the genuine representative of the w o r k i n g classes, f o r this is the son of the lower or lower m i d d l e class w h o is granted a u n i v e r s i t y education. T h e education itself tangles the lines of class i d e n t i f i c a t i o n, and the novels of A m i s , W a i n , and L a r k i n do n o t , f o r ali their concern w i t h house painters and Welsh miners' sons, delineate any clear working-class a t t i tude as such. John K e m p and J i m D i x o n may s ü r t e r in the genteel u n i v e r s i t y , m a y feel keenly their c u l t u r a l dislocation, b u t their problems and their aims are p u t in terms quite different f r o m those of A l a n Sillitoe's capstan lathe o p e r a t ö r in a N o t t i n g h a m bicycle factory. A l a n Sillitoe best demonstrates w o r k i n g class attitudes, for John Braine's workers ( i n b o t h Room at the Top

and

The Vodi)

are so caught in endless

repetitions of

m a u d l i n s e l f - p i t y , so b l u r r e d by a lack of distance between author and hero, t h a t they are l e f t l i t t l e r o o m to express or observe any issues outside themselves. Sillitoe, in a recent collect i o n of essays published as The Writer's Dilemma

(ed. Stephen

Spender, 1 9 6 1 ) , a colleetion culled f r o m a T L S symposium o r i g i n a l l y called " L i m i t s of C o n t r o l , " has d i r e c t l y stated the need f o r a working-class perspective in f i c t i o n : These working-class people who are not afraid to take a hard-cover book in their hands suffer from certain disadvantages compared to the middle-class reader. The latter, no matter what values he lives by, can take out a book and see in it either a mirror of him­ self, or someone he knows: he is fully represented in contempo­ rary writing, while the man who works at the lathe is not. Working men and women who read do not have the privilege of seeing themselves honestly and realistically portrayed in novels. They are

6

THE

FIRST

STEPS

THE

familiar w i t h wish-fulfilment images flashed at them in cliche form on television or in the press, and the novels they read in which they do figüre are written by those novelists of the Right who are quite prepared to pass on the old values and who, unable to have any feeling for the individual, delineate only stock characters. [P. . ] 7

4

FIRST

STEPS

J

statements, b o t h i m p l i c i t and e x p l i c i t , that the w o r l d is wider t h a n the vicar's c o m i n g for tea or the hang-over of psychic g u i l t t h a t characterized too m a n y i n f e r i o r B r i t i s h novels of past decades. Indeed, the v i t a l i t y and the enlarged area of concern have been responsible f o r a good deal of the praise and the attent i o n these contemporary novelists have received in the past

Sillitoe is, in this respect, n o t t y p i c a l of most contemporary B r i t i s h writers. W h i l e others, such as W a i n and A m i s , w o u l d p r o b a b l y agree in castigating the "novelists of the R i g h t " and c e r t a i n ly demonstrate s y m p a t h y w i t h the w o r k i n g classes, they do n o t plead f o r a p a r t i c u l a r class perspective. Rather, they recognize the influence of a class structure w i t h o u t acknowledgi n g its w o r t h . H o w e v e r s t r o n g l y p o l i t i c a l and social leaders may urge one to feel pride in whatever badges of social and economic i m p o s i t i o n he automatically wears ( a n d , af ter a l i , the leaders have l i t t l e to lose because they wear the brightest badges), the representative hero, in m u c h contemporary B r i t i s h f i c t i o n , resents the p u b l i c badge, the a r t i c u l a t i o n of the system. He feels no class u n i t y , no p u b l i c i d e n t i f i c a t i o n, and therefore w o r k s h a r d f o r the direct and the tangible: the job t h a t pays more or the more attractive and e x c i t i n g w o m a n .

decade. For ten or fifteen years before these writers began to publish in the m i d d l e 'fifties, B r i t i s h w r i t i n g seemed anemic and c o n cerned w i t h well-executed t r i v i a . James Joyce and V i r g i n i a W o o l f had been pioneers in creating a new k i n d of novel, develo p i n g complex and intricate devices to p o r t r a y f u l l y the patterns and the nuances of their worlds. In more recent years m a n y of their followers, like Elizabeth Bowen, were r e f i n i n g , d i s t i l l i n g , t r y i n g to get the gossip around the tea table more exactly and significantly shaded, or, like W i l l i a m Sansom, a t t e n u a t i ng the complexities of the love affair almost to the p o i n t of irrelevance. A n d the genre lost energy. S i m i l a r l y , the satirical novel was no longer the p o w e r f u l weapon t h a t H u x l e y and W a u g h used to castigate their contemporaries, to depict the follies of a w o r l d g r o w n increasingly callous and meaningless. Far more g e n t l y ,

Most of these w r i t e r s do n o t simply present social attitudes

people like Angela T h i r k e l l delicately satirized a l i t t l e w o r l d they

as t h i n l y disguised sociological reports. Usually, the social a t t i -

wished to preserve, the w o r l d of teacups and the village parson.

tudes are filtered t h r o u g h i n d i v i d u a l emotions and reactions,

Satire became, in some instances, a defense to protect the n a r r o w ,

a l t h o u g h some w r i t e r s , like D o r i s Lessing, f i i l their novels w i t h

shallow society, like t h a t o f N a n c y M i t f o r d , i n w h i c h class and

l o n g sections of sociological j o u r n a l i s m . S i m i l a r l y , these writers,

breeding really m a t t e r, after a l i. T h e social n o v e l , w i t h o u t even

t h o u g h seldom c o m m i t t e d to a part i cul ar p o l i t i c a l cause or

an A r n o l d Bennett, became either a curious transfer of p r e -

doctrine, often show the influence of politics u p o n their char-

W o r l d W a r I issues i n t o c o n t e m p o r a r y terms (as in the w o r k of

acters. In Under the Net i r i s M u r d o c h uses L e f t y , a p o l i t i c a l

L. P. H a r t l e y ) or the sober document o u t l i n i n g the problems

agitator, as one of the nets, the series of traps t h a t capture u n -

our c i v i l i z a t i o n faces (as in the w o r k of C. P. S n o w ) . V a l i d as

w a r y h u m a n beings; A n g u s W i l s o n describes the impact of

these aims and attitudes were, they d i d n o t provide o u t s t a n d i n g

p o l i t i c a l engagement on scholars, writers, and television c o m -

fiction.

mentators

in

both

Hemlock and

Af ter

and

Anglo-Saxon

Atti-

tudes; W i l l i a m G o l d i n g traces his hero's temporary adherence to c o m m u n i s m in Free Fail. In their v i t a l and consistent concern w i t h social and p o l i t i c a l problems, ali these w r i t e r s f u r n i s h

T h e situation on the stage was even more m o r i b u n d . T h e B r i t i s h theater was confined to magnificent revivals of great classics, insipid l i t t l e comedies centering on N a n n y ' s advice, and the sort of soap opera Terence R a t t i g a n w r o t e f o r his A u n t

8

THE

FIRST

THE

STEPS

FIRST

STEPS

9

Edna w h o attended matinees in the second r o w of the dress

Clearly the old guides and formulas have vanished. T w o w o r l d

circle. T h e popular novel was, at its best, a k i n d of w e l l - c o n -

wars, the threat of the h y d r o g e n b o m b , and disillusion w i t h the

structed and well-decorated

t h r i l l e r , l i k e the scientific and

M a r x i s t version of w o r l d brotherhood have left these w r i t e r s

psychological thrillers of N i g e l Balchin or the religious thrillers

skeptical about the value of banners and causes. At the same

of Graham Greene. At the other end of the scale, the careful

t i m e , they have seen enough d u r i n g the days of the dole, the

products of sensitive w r i t e r s l i k e the Sitwells, H e n r y Green, and

abdication, and the new Elizabethan coronation to d o u b t the

I v y C o m p t o n - B u r n e t t seemed remote f r o m the concerns of

u l t i m a t e value of Britain's clerical " p o m p and circumstance."

p o s t - W o r l d W a r I I B r i t a i n , a distance represented b y the fact

T h e target of m a n y of their novels, the material for the comedy,

t h a t Horizon folded i n 1 9 4 9 .

is the p u b l i c cause or the reverential generalization about an

T h e contemporary B r i t i s h w r i t e r s are n o t concerned simply

i n s t i t u t i o n : M a r x i s m , Welsh nationalism, the sanctity o f the

w i t h d e p i c t i n g a wide segment of c u r r e n t B r i t i s h society. A

B r i t i s h Museum, the lay religious c o m m u n i t y t h a t resembles the

n u m b e r of t h e m also occupy themselves w i t h m o r a l issues t h a t

Boy Scouts.

are n o t specifically social or p o l i t i c a l , f o r John W a i n , J o h n

T h i s comic perspective w o u l d seem to lead to a relativism

Bowen, and A n g u s W i l s o n are a l i , in vastly different ways,

of b o t h d e f i n i t i o n and value, and relativism is n o t h i n g n e w ;

f i r m l y c o m m i t t e d to m o r a l points of v i e w . Y e t these w r i t e r s do

the failure of old systems and definitions is no longer astounding.

n o t compose a new branch of M o r a l Rearmament. T h e y share no

Relativism has become so deeply ingrained in t w e n t i e t h - c e n t u r y

g r o u p m o r a l position, as they share no specific p o l i t i c a l doctrine.

c u l t u r e t h a t it permeates even the popular novel sold at the

A n d , i n a d d i t i o n , they h o l d their various moralities w i t h vastly

r a i l w a y bookstall or the airline t e r m i n a l . In one such n o v e l , a

different degrees of i n t e n s i t y. D o r i s Lessing's attack on the

c o n v e n t i o n a l ly heroic and banal love story called I Can Take İt

shallowness of the B r i t i s h colonial set in A f r i c a is far more

Ali, by A n t h o n y G l y n , a novel distinguished o n l y by some ex-

m o r a l l y c o m m i t t e d t h a n , and has a v e r y different p i t c h f r o m ,

cellent descriptive accounts of contemporary F i n l a n d and the

Kingsley A m i s ' attack on g e n t i l i t y at the p r o v i n c i a l u n i v e r s i t y .

l o g g i n g i n d u s t r y , the hero expresses this relativism of d e f i n i t i o n

Amis* p i t c h , however, is more generally characteristic of

as one of his few p r o f o u n d perceptions:

contemporary w r i t e r s t h a n is D o r i s Lessing's, f o r m a n y of these novelists use a good deal of comedy. A m i s , W a i n , i r i s M u r d o c h , W ı l l i a m G o l d i n g , J o h n Bowen, and A n g u s W i l s o n are f r e q u e n t l y v e r y f u n n y , developing a concept of comedy t h a t ranges f r o m simple verbal jokes, farce, and comic images to complete projections of e n t i r e ly bizarre and incongruous worlds. Each one views his material in an essentially comic perspective, aware of man's various and discordant experience, cognizant t h a t a single view of m a n leads

to pretentious oversimplification. T h i s comic

perspective, this m u l t i p l e awareness, represents a w o r l d in w h i c h m a n faces m a n y facts, m a n y experiences, w i t h o u t any clear guide or f o r m u l a around w h i c h to organize his experience.

Everything is funny and serious both at once. If you get one without the other, then there's something wrong and you ought to start asking why. You oughtn't to go round saying, "Is this the funny bit or is this the serious bit?" It's like those masks you sometimes see outside theaters, you know, one grinning inanely and the other scowling and pulling his mouth down. Comedy and tragedy. There was a time when everything had to bc one or the other. Either you ended up happily married to the king's daughter if it was a comedy or you died in the last scene. Nowadays it hasn't got to be either or. It's neither or both. And it's not so extreme either. You can marry the king's daughter if you like, but you probably won't be very happy and it won't last for long. A n d

IO

THE

FIRST

THE

STEPS

you won't really be killed, you'U recover with penicillin. And both will be rather funny and rather serious at the same time. It's got to be both, that's the modern wor!d. [Signet edition, 1961, pp. 98-99.]

FIRST

STEPS

I I

m e n t d i r e c t l y , have avoided the k i n d o f technical i n n o v a t i o n favored by an earlier generation of t w e n t i e t h - c e n t u r y w r i t e r s . It is n o t t h a t these w r i t e r s dismiss James Joyce; it is s i m p l y t h a t they do n o t ( a n d perhaps could n o t ) compete. T h e i r interest in man's exterior relationships leads to a less associative, i n t e r n a l

G l y n ' s hero m a y o v e r s i m p l i f y the past, f o r tragicomedy is an

style, to a style closer to the s t r a i g h t f o r w a r d narrative of most

o l d f o r m , b u t his a t t i t u d e t o w a r d the present is t y p i c a l . T h e

o f nineteenth-century f i c t i o n . T h e y often deliberately t r y t o

heroine, a mystic and a healthy F i n n , feels t h a t the hero is being

reestablish older and more conventional prose techniques. J o h n

cynical. H e replies, " N o , n o t c y n i c a l . I f a n y t h i n g , humane."

W a i n , f o r example, in Hurry On Down, his first novel, attempts

G l y n carries the p o i n t no f u r t h e r , b u t m a n y of the more d i s t i n -

to revive the picaresque, a t r a d i t i o n appropriate f o r his rootless

guished contemporary writers feel t h a t some k i n d of c o m m i t -

hero leaving the u n i v e r s i t y to survey the contemporary w o r l d .

m e n t , some k i n d of choice, is possible even in the m i d s t of a

Kingsley A m i s uses a good deal of farce in his first t w o novels,

w o r l d of relative definitions and relative values. These w r i t e r s ,

deliberately m a k i n g his h u m o r obvious and his incongruities

never h a v i n g k n o w n t h a t w o r l d o f secure m y t h before 1 9 1 4 ,

ridiculous as a slap against a society in w h i c h h u m o r is too

have always l i v e d w i t h o u t f a i t h i n any o v e r r i d i n g p u b l i c t r u t h .

delicate and genteel. A n d A n g u s W i l s o n , in Anglo-Saxon Atti-

T h e y have always accepted u n c e r t a i n t y because they have never

tudes, uses the large f r a m e w o r k of the V i c t o r i a n novel, the huge

k n o w n a n y t h i n g else. R a w and sudden disillusion m a y shock a

saga t h a t portrays a society by c u t t i n g across numerous class

w r i t e r i n t o complete r e l a t i v i s m ; never h a v i n g had illusions,

and occupational lines. L i k e most new w r i t e r s , these c o n t e m -

t h r o u g h t w o generations of u n c e r t a i n t y , m a y lead the w r i t e r to

porary Bri t ons are n o t e n t i r e ly new. I n a d d i t i o n t o their f o r m a l

search f o r w h a t he can, w i t h m o d i f i c a t i o n and qualification,

conservatism

assert. Most contemporary writers go beyond the development

traditions, their insistence on man's l i m i t a t i o n s , t h e i r comic

of a comic m u l t i p l i c i t y , assert a l i m i t e d c o m m i t m e n t , a k i n d of

perspeetive, and their p a r t i al or hesitant c o m m i t m e n t are ali r e m -

and

their

attempts

to

revive

older

novelistic

value, v e r y carefully, sometimes hesitantly. T h e specific c o m -

iniscent of characteristics we t e n d to apply to eighteenth-century

m i t m e n t varies a good deal. J o h n W a i n , in The Contenders,

w r i t e r s . T h e y appreciate and echo the scale, if n o t always the

attacks the competitive instinct apparent in b o t h the artistic

assurance, of Pope, and t w o of t h e m , A m i s and W a i n , have

and the business w o r l d s , and advocates, in the character of his

spoken of their debt to the comic placement of rootless m a n in

l u m b e r i n g , a w k w a r d , yet understanding hero, a k i n d of p r e -

the fictional w o r l d o f H e n r y Fielding.

I n d u s t r i a l R e v o l u t i o n s i m p l i c i t y , W i l l i a m Golding's unique and

B u t in other ways these w r i t e r s are u n i q u e l y part of the

s t r i k i n g metaphors b o t h assert and q u a l i f y a c o m m i t m e n t to

m i d d l e o f the t w e n t i e t h c e n t u r y . A l t h o u g h A n t h o n y G l y n ' s

o r t h o d o x C h r i s t i a n i t y . i r i s M u r d o c h , t h r o u g h a vast structure of

hero m a y falsify the c e r t a i n t y of past definitions and values,

n a t u r a l , philosophical, and c o n t e m p o r a ry images, insists on the

m a n is, today, even less sure of w h a t he is and where he is headed

value of the u n s t r u c t u r e d , spontaneous, creature side of m a n .

t h a n he apparently was f i f t y or a h u n d r e d years ago. A l m o s t ali

C o m m i t m e n t m a y i n v o l v e b o t h engagement i n contemporary

the contemporary novels are searehes f o r i d e n t i t y , efforts on the

life and assertion, i n a l i m i t e d sense, o f a particular p o i n t of v i e w

p a r t of the hero to understand and to define w h o or w h a t he is.

t o w a r d that l i f e .

T h e hero accepts the fact that he is, b u t wonders w h a t k i n d and

Most of these w r i t e r s , in an a t t e m p t to depict their engage-

degree of adjectival postulate he can b u i l d upon his existence.

12

THE

FIRST

STEPS

THE

FIRST

STEPS

13

These searches for i d e n t i t y v a r y f r o m the comic roles and poses

and an existential a t t i t u d e tries to p u n c t u r e the society's bloated

t h a t A m i s ' heroes fabricate to the b e w i l d e r i n g switches in

self-estimation, t o p o r t r a y , w i t h o r w i t h o u t anger, the f o l l y o f

personality and f u n c t i o n i n the bizarre w o r l d o f N i g e l D e n n i s '

h u m a n beings acting as if they were knowledgeable cosmic forces.

Cards

Y e t the destruction of the r e i g n i n g society cannot be carried too

of

identity

to

the

character's

c o n st a n t ly

unsuccessful

effort t o define himself i n the f i c t i o n o f iris M u r d o c h . T h e p r o b -

far, cannot itself become a p r i n c i p l e . A g a i n , the existential m a n

l e m of i d e n t i t y indicates an existential a t t i t u d e , a skepticism

chooses, and some societies are better, less pretentious, less restric-

about ever k n o w i n g the essential nature of any person or t h i n g .

t i v e , t h a n others.

M a n is a creature too l i m i t e d , too unsure, to gain c e r t a i n t y of

T h i s existential a t t i t u d e , satirizing essences or fallacious ab-

the essential nature of any of his various experiences, p a r t i c u l a r l y

stractions, has p r o v i d e d fresh images for c o n t e m p o r a r y B r i t i s h

w h e n experience is received o n l y t h r o u g h i n d i v i d u a l conscious-

fiction; it has also, in its refusal to o u t l i n e essential t r u t h , accu-

ness. At the same t i m e , m a n must l i v e and make choices, m u s t

rately represented the attitudes of m a n y of the most sensitive

act on p a r t i a l knowledge w i t h o u t the assurance of abstract

and aware members of the generation w h o began to w r i t e after

sanction, m u s t come to some terms w i t h his o w n existence and

W o r l d W a r I I . C e r t a i n l y , c o n t e m p o r a r y writers have p r o v i d e d

the existences around h i m . T h e l i m i t a t i o n s placed on man's

more f o r c e f u l , more far-reaching, more relevant art t h a n d i d

knowledge and power, the p u z z l i n g search f o r i d e n t i t y and

m a n y of those of the generation i m m edi at ely preccding. B u t

d e f i n i t i o n , and the necessity, in spite of ali this, f o r some k i n d

immediacy, energy, and temporal accuracy are n o t , in themselves,

of h u m a n action or engagement, ali c o n t r i b u t e to the existential

enough to j u s t i f y these w o r k s . To praise the w o r k s on such

a t t i t u d e c o m m o n t o most c o n t e m p o r a r y B r i t i s h w r i t e r s . Each

grounds alone is to subscribe to the Peripatetic heresy, the fallacy

element of the existential a t t i t u d e m a y surely be f o u n d in a

t h a t the greatest a c t i v i t y , the most v i t a l energy, makes the best

p r i o r t i m e o r place, b u t the c o m b i n a t i o n o f ali o f t h e m and

n o v e l . Rather, the w r i t e r s must be read and judged i n d i v i d u a l l y

the degree to w h i c h the a t t i t u d e permeates are unique, in B r i t i s h

on artistic grounds. Each one considers himself an i n d i v i d u a l

l i t e r a t ü r e , t o the m i d d l e o f the t w e n t i e t h c e n t u r y .

artist, n o t an interesting c o n t e m p o r a r y specimen, and the novels

T h e existential a t t i t u d e also has a p u b l i c corollary in the constant iconoclasm directed against the established religious, p o l i t i c a l , and commercial order so evident in the w o r k of A m i s , W a i n , A l a n Sillitoe, and m a n y others. iconoclasm, to be sure, has a l o n g intellectual h i s t o r y and is n o t simply the province of " a n g r y y o u n g m e n , " b u t a n existential a t t i t u d e gives this k i n d of iconoclasm p a r t i c u l a r support. T h e r e i g n i ng society represents, f o r m a n y of these c o n t e m p o r a r y -vvriters, a pretentious and fallacious essence. In order to perpetuate itself, the r e i g n i n g society strives to appear as if it were based on some hallowed p r i n c i p l e of r i g h t or value, to refuse to acknowledge t h a t i t , l i k e any other society, is really a p a r t i a l choice of men w i t h p a r t i a l knowledge. T h e r e i g n i n g society comes to believe t h a t its values are essential. Therefore the w r i t e r w i t h b o t h awareness

and plays need careful consideration as w o r k s of art.

ALAN

SİLLİTOE'S

JUNGLE

15

The old man was happy at last, anyway, and he deserved to be happy, after ali the years before the war on the dole, five kids, and the big miserying that went with no money and no way of getting any. And now he had a sit-down job at the factory, ali the Woodbines he could smoke, money for a pint if he wanted one, though he didn't as a rule drink, a holiday somewhere, a jaunt on the firm's trip to Blackpool, and a television-set to look into at home. The difference between before the war and after the war didn't bear thinking about. War was a marvellous thing in some ways, when you thought about how happy it had made so many people in England. [P. 2 2 . ]

Alan Sillitoe's lungle

T h e standards are e n t i r e l y m a t e r i a l ; the o n l y end is hedonistic. B u t , among Sillitoe's characters, memories of e m p t y bellies and i n a b i l i t y to pay the rent are s t i l i sharp. Even in the postwar w o r l d p o v e r t y s t i l i exists, for not ali members of the w o r k i n g class are so l u c k y as y o u n g A r t h u r Seaton. T h e y o u n g na rra t or

T H E FIRST I M P R E S S I O N O N E N T E R I N G A L A N S I L L I T O E ' S

f i c t i o n a l w o r l d is t h a t the w o r k i n g class has "never had it so g o o d . " P a r t l y the result of a genuine change in the economic structure of the c o u n t r y , p a r t l y a s t r o n g l y felt pride and defiance, the a t t i t u d e o f " I ' m A l i R i g h t , J a c k " permeates a good deal o f Sillitoe's f i c t i o n . A l a n Sillitoe has thus far published t w o novels, Saturday

Night

and

Sıınday

Morning

(1958)

and

The

General

( 1 9 6 0 ) , and one v o l u m e o f short stories, The Loncliness of the Long-Distance Rnnncr

( 1 9 5 9 ) . T h e satisfaction o f a steady job

w i t h a few pounds left ö v e r at the end of the week is evident in Sillitoe's

first

novel,

Saturday

Night

and

Sunday

Morning,

in

w h i c h the y o u n g hero, A r t h u r Seaton, represents the v v o r k i n g m a n quite content to spend his fourteen pounds a week (earned on a capstan lathe at the local bicycle factory—he could earn more, as he is paid by piece rate, b u t he doesn't see the p o i n t of

of

The

Loneliness

of

the

Long-Distance

Runner

(in

Borstal

f o r r o b b i n g a b a k e r y ) has seen his father die of cancer w h i l e the f a m i l y l i v e d o n n e x t t o n o t h i n g . T h e father's death b r o u g h t the t e m p o r a r y prosperity of five h u n d r e d pounds in insurance and benefits: . . . so as soon as she got the money, mam took me and my five brothers and sisters out to town and got us dolled-up in new clothes. Then she ordered a twenty-one inch telly, a new carpet because the old one was covered with blood from dad's dying and wouldn't wash out, and took a taxi home with bags of grub and a new fur coat. . . . Night after night we sat in front of the telly with a ham sandwich in one hand, a bar of chocolate in the other, and a bottle of lemonade between our boots, while mam was with some fancy-man upstairs on the new bed she'd ordered, and I'd never known a family as happy as ours was in that couple of months when we'd got ali the money we needed. [Pp. 20—21.]

t h a t ) on clothes, w o m e n , and Saturday n i g h t binges at the local p u b . Y e t A r t h u r is n o t so smug as ali that. He recognizes t h a t even such l i m i t e d satisfaction was impossible f o r the w o r k i n g m a n t w e n t y or t h i r t y years ago, and he is able to sympathize w i t h his father:

Happiness, in large part, is dependent on money, money t h a t supplies food, d r i n k , sex, and the diversion of television in the working-class w o r l d . Despite the more or less general prosperity of the -vvorking

l6

ALAN

SİLLİTOE'S

ALAN

JUNGLE

class in the postwar w o r l d , Sillitoe does n o t romanticize the f a c t o r y worker's l i f e . T h e f a c t o r y , steady pay packets and benefits n o t w i t h s t a n d i n g , is s t i l i different f r o m the plush board room or the book-lined study. A r t h u r , in Saturday Night and Sunday Morning, has been w o r k i n g in the bicycle f a c t o r y since

SİLLİTOE'S

JUNGLE

İJ

night while you rot w i t h scabies in an air-raid shelter. Slung into khaki at eighteen, and when they let you out, you sweat again in a factory, grabbing for an extra pint, doing women at the weekend and getting to know whose husbands are on the night-shif t, working w i t h rotten guts and an aching spine, and nothing for it but money to drag you back there every Monday morning. [P. 2 3 9 . ]

he was fifteen, save f o r t w o years in the a r m y . T o u g h and realistic, he muses: . . . the factory smell of oil-suds, machinery, and shaved steel that surrounded you w i t h an air in which pimples grew and prospered on your face and shoulders, that would have turned you into one big pimple if you did not spend half an hour över the scullery sink every night getting rid of the biggest bastards. What a life, he thought. Hard work and good wages, and a smell ali day that turns your guts. [P. 2 5 . ]

T h e statement " I ' m A l i R i g h t , J a c k " i s n o t , i n Sillitoe's w o r l d , the smug caption it sounds. T h e statement is p a r t l y comparative, a realization t h a t the w o r k i n g m a n is more " a l i r i g h t " t h a n he was in the days of the dole. It is also p a r t l y his pose, his i n h e r i t e d and acquired defiance t h r o w n up as a w a l l against a class w i t h interests and values other t h a n his o w n . Sillitoe's

working-class

men

stili

defy

authority,

stili

feel

themselves the enemies of policemen, prelates, and the pillars of society. T h e y care no more f o r religious or p o l i t i c a l a u t h o r i t y

A r t h u r is often sick f r o m the smell; at the age of t w e n t y - r w o

t h a n they do f o r the economic a u t h o r i t y of the factory's manage­

he suffers stomach t r o u b l e f r o m constantly i n h a l i n g o i l fumes.

m e n t . O f t e n , older characters recall past attitudes t h a t linger.

In a d d i t i o n , the f a c t o r y system has perpetuated the struggle

In Saturday Night and Sunday Morning, one of t h e m says:

between workers and management. T h e workers in the bicycle

the system allow t h e m , o n l y barely and g r u d g i n g l y , to a c k n o w l -

I was on the dole eighteen months ago, same as yo', Harold. We ali had a struggle to keep alive, and now they vvant to cali us up. My mother had elcven to drag up, w i t h Doddoe only at work now and again. Then one night I broke into the back door of a shop because we'd got nowt t'eat. When I got back that n i g h t — I shall never forgct i t , Harold—we had the best meal we'd ever had in our lives. I was fifteen at the time, and I broke into a shop every week for a couple of months, but one night the bastards got me. A n d do you know what I got for it? I know you do, Uncle Har­ old, but I ' m just tellin' yer. Three years in Borstal. A n d then when I came out the war'd started and I got called up. Do yer think I ' m going ter fight for them bastards, do yer? [P. 1 3 9 . ]

edge. T h e worker's new paradise is o n l y relative and comparative.

T h e speaker deserted f r o m the B r i t i s h a r m y d u r i n g the w a r . E v e n

As A r t h u r states, even w h e n he has f o u n d a k i n d of value at the

y o u n g A r t h u r , far too y o u n g t o f i g h t , recalls t h a t " C h u r c h i l l

f a c t o r y are paid by the piece, b u t , should they w o r k at f u l l speed, management w o u l d lower the a m o u n t paid per piece. T h e workers, w i t h n o t h i n g to gain by increased effort, fear t h a t management w i l l discover their elaborate stalling devices. M a n ­ agement, on the other hand, is v i g i l a n t , always ready to pounce on the w o r k e r slow enough or u n l u c k y enough to be caught. Sillitoe's characters are constantly aware of the conflict of interest between workers and management, the cold struggle t h a t keeps class antagonisms alive and allegiances firm. Each side m a y be dependent on the other, b u t it is a dependence t h a t the past and

end of the n o v e l : Born drunk and married blind, misbegotten into a strange and crazy world, dragged-up through the dole and into the war w i t h a gas-mask on your clock, and the sirens rattling into you every

spoke after the nine o'clock news and t o l d y o u w h a t y o u were f i g h t i n g for, a s i f i t m a t t e r e d . " T h e defiance of a u t h o r i t y , the attitudes of resentment, persist in the postwar w o r l d . T h e y o u n g na rra t or in The Loneliness of

l8

ALAN

the

SİLLİTOE'S

Long-Distance

Kunner

JUNGLE never

mentions

ALAN members

of

SİLLİTOE'S

JUNGLE

19

the

constant struggles against an u n f r i e n d l y w o r l d , and he wishes

g o v e r n i n g classes, at whose i n s t i g a t i on he has taken up cross-

he could have helped her more. T h e orchestra leader in The

c o u n t r y r u n n i n g , w i t h o u t several pejorative adjectives such as

General, at first

"pig.-faced" and "snotty-nosed." H e divides ali people i n t o t w o

realizes, w h e n the orchestra is captured and faces death, t h a t the

classes, " I n - l a w " and " O u t - l a w , " accepting the f a c t t h a t , e v e n

e x t i n c t i o n of his orchestra, his g r o u p , his class, is a larger issue

t h o u g h he is i n Borstal for a first offense, his identification w i t h the latter class is permanent. In Sillitoe's second novel, The General, the struggle between a w a r t i m e general and t h e orchest r a he has i n a d v e r t e n t l y captured f r o m the other side s i m i l a r l y carries overtones of the class struggle: the orchestra leader resents the general, regards h i m as an aristocratic agent anxious to devour the v e r y " s o u l " of the plebeian orchestra. Resentment o f the g o v e r n i n g classes is strong enough, i n S i l l i ­

concerned o n l y w i t h his i n d i v i d u a l

dignity,

t h a n is his o w n fate. T h e pressure of circumstances, the fact t h a t m a n must constantly struggle in a hostile w o r l d , the power of established forces ali push Sillitoe's characters i n t o a k i n d of u n i t y , of f e l l o w feeling directed against the large and the p o w e r ful. Y e t this u n i t y , this fellow feeling, springs f r o m necessity rather t h a n f r o m belief. N o Sillitoe characters t a l k o f b r o t h e r hood or u n i t e d a c t i o n; they s i m p l y recognize t h a t others are

toe's w o r l d , to u n i f y , at odd moments in part i cul ar situations, t h e

caught in the same w a y t hey are. In Saturday Night and Sunday

workers and the p u t - u p o n . A r t h u r Seaton, h a v i n g d r u n k e n l y

Morning, tax collectors and L a b o u r leaders are treated as the

fallen d o w n a flight of stairs in a p u b , can appreciate enough of

equivalent of big-business magnates or T o r y politicians. Sillitoe's

the p l i g h t o f the waiter sent t o t h r o w h i m o u t t h a t the t w o strike up a relationship and begin to smoke together. A r t h u r recognizes the waiter's g r i m job and the waiter sympathizes w i t h A r t h u r ' s gesture o f defiance i n g e t t i n g d r u n k . B u t the r e l a t i o n ­ ship is q u i c k l y shattered w h e n the p u b l i c a n , w i t h "the slight cast of a u t h o r i t y and teetotalness in his r i g h t eye," enters and enforces the separation between waiter and customer. T h e y o u n g cross-country r u n n e r , w h o b i t t e r l y hates ali wardens and authorities, can trust his story to the boy w h o lives in his terrace. "He's my p a l , " the runner States at the very end of the story in the o n l y statement t h a t does n o t reinforce the runner's b i t t e r re­ sentment against everyone. In another story, " T h e Fishing-Boat P i c t u r e , " an o l d postman holds no resentment against the w i f e w h o left h i m l o n g ago b u t stili returned to visit h i m , b o r r o w money she c o u l d never repay, and p a w n the picture he gave her as a sentimental gesture. She consistently took advantage of h i m , b u t w h e n she is k i l l e d by a l o r r y the postman suddenly realizes that her l i t t l e shoddy deceptions d i d n ' t matter. B o t h of t h e m had to face the same p o v e r t y , the same class war, the same

characters support n o p a r t y o r organization. A t one p o i n t , w h e n t a l k i n g of w h a t he w o u l d do if he w o n a football pool, A r t h u r says: I'd keep it ali mysen, except for seeing my family right. I'd buy 'em a house and set 'em up for life, but anybody else could whistle for it. I've 'eard that blokes as win football pools get thousands o' beggin' letters, but yer know what I'd do if I got 'em? 1*11 teli yer what I'd do: I'd mek a bonfire on 'em. Because I don't believe in share and share alike, Jack. Tek them blokes as spout on boxes outside the factory sometimes. I like to hear 'em talk about Russia, about farms and power-stations they've got, because it's interestin', but when they say that when they get in government everybody's got to share and share alike, then that's another thing. I ain't a communist, I teli you. I like 'em though, because they're different from these big fat Tory bastards in parliament. And them Labour bleeders too. They rob our wage packets every week with insurance and income tax and try to teli us it's ali for our own good. I know what I'd like to do with the government. I'd like ter go round every factory in England with books and books of little numbers and raflle off the 'Ouses o' Parliament. "Sixpence

20

ALAN

SİLLİTOE'S

JUNGLE

a time, lads," I'd say. "A nice big 'ouse for the winner"—and then when I'd made a big packet I'd settle down somewhere with fif­ teen women and fifteen cars, that I would. But did I teli yer, Jack, I voted communist at the last election? I did it because I thought the poor bloke wouldn't get any votes. I allus like to 'elp the losin' side. [P. 3 2 . ]

ALAN Arthur,

in

Saturday

Night

and

SİLLİTOE'S Sunday

JUNGLE

Morning,

21

experiences

fleeting desires to b l o w up Parliament or the W a r M i n i s t r y or the Palace. A t one p o i n t , w h e n w a l k i n g along the Street, he hears a w i n d o w smash on the pavement. " A r t h u r was stirred by the sound of breaking glass: it synthesised ali the anarehism w i t h i n h i m , was the most perfect and suitable noise to accompany the

N o t o n l y p o l i t i c a l organizations are treated w i t h derision,

end o f the w o r l d and h i m s e l f " ( p p . 1 1 3 - 1 1 4 ) . H e follows the

f o r Sillitoe's characters level jeers and catcalls at any social

sound, and finds a wom-an in k h a k i h o l d i n g the feeble c u l p r i t

organization or a n y t h i n g smacking of noble purpose or ideal.

u n t i l the poliçe arrive. He urges the c u l p r i t to break away and

T h e runner mocks the pretense of his warden's attempts to help

escape, b u t the c u l p r i t is afraid. A r t h u r has n o t h i n g b u t scorn

h i m and to see t h a t he becomes a useful member of society. P o l i t ­

f o r the poliçe w h o w o u l d lock u p this feeble l i t t l e m a n j u s t

ical organization is also satirized in the structure of The General,

after his single expression of d a r i n g and defiance. The pol i çe, in

f o r t w o vast sides are s t r u g g l i n g ö v e r Europe, each w i t h no apparent end other t h a n its o w n m o n o l i t h i c power. T h e sides are referred to as "East" and " W e s t , " although efforts to translate the m y t h i c a l direetions i n t o c u r r e n t p o l i t i c a l terms are f u t i l e , for Sillitoe deliberately t h r o w s clues in different direetions. The novel makes no distinctions in larger p o l i t i c a l and social units. Abstractions, causes of any sort, seem o u t of place in this w o r l d where power battles power. T h e leader of the orehestra, humane and aware, leaps to his feet in anger w h e n the general asks h i m i f he does n o t believe any freedom w i l l be left i n the w o r l d . T h e orehestra leader cries o u t : Freedom! Why do you keep on using such a false and stupid word? Freedom, freedom, freedom! Listen to it. Doesn't it have a meaningless sound? It's been twisted, hammered, burned, and dragged inside-out. It's caused so much suffering in the world in these many disguises for tyranny that the sooner people forget that it ever existed the better. [P. 68.]

fact,

frequently

are

villains

in

Sillitoe's

fiction.

In

"Uncle

Ernest," the poliçe prevent a lonely o l d m a n f r o m i n n o c e n t l y feeding and b u y i n g presents f o r t w o poor l i t t l e girls. I n " O n Saturday A f t e r n o o n , " the poliçe t r y t o prevent a m a n , o u t o f w o r k and deserted by his w i f e , f r o m k i l l i n g himself. W h e n the m a n finally succeeds, the narrator comments: " I n one w a y I was sorry he'd done i t , b u t in another I was glad, because he'd proved to the coppers and everybody whether it was his l i f e or

not

ali

right"

(Lonelmess

of

the

Long-Distance

Runner,

p . 1 2 6 ) . T h e poliçe i n v a r i a b l y stifle and restrict the w o r k i n g m a n , b i n d h i m in laws t h a t are cruel and irrelevant. T h e members of the orehestra in The General are anarehists, too, f o r t hey respect no government, least of ali the one t h a t i n a d v e r t e n t l y sent t h e m to be captured. To pose against the a u t h o r i t y of policemen or governments, Sillitoe's characters generally have a strong sense of their o w n w o r t h . T h e long-distance r u n n e r, a l t h o u g h trained i n Borstal to w i n the cross-country race, deliberately loses because he w i l l

T h e vast w o r d , the generalization, deludes m a n and engages h i m

n o t j o i n the system t h a t trained and ordered and jailed h i m .

in something miserable and destruetive. O n l y the direct and the

A l t h o u g h losing means six more months of c a r t i n g dustbins and

tangible—the good meal, the television set, the woman—offer

serubbing floors instead of kindness f r o m the governor, honor,

w h a t they promise.

and easy jobs, the runner feels too p r o u d , too m u c h a p a r t of his

If Sillitoe's characters can be classified as supporters of any

o w n defiance, n o t to lose his race. He suffers f o r his pride, b u t

k i n d of government, they are anarehists. Every n o w and then

not heavily or dramatically, for the w o r l d can do l i t t l e to h i m

22

ALAN

SİLLİTOE'S

ALAN

JUNGLE

t h a t it has n o t done already. S i m i l a r l y , A r t h u r Seaton feels t h a t

SİLLİTOE'S

JUNGLE

23

dies w h o beat A r t h u r up are part of the w o r l d of Saturday Night

he's as good as any other m a n . H i s working-class e n v i r o n m e n t

and Sunday Morning. T h e short stories are f u l l of p e t t y , b r u t a l

and his o w n memories m a y have bred defiance, b u t t hey have

men w h o b u l l y their wives, o f domineering mothcrs w h o pretend

n o t bred h u m i l i t y .

to be superior to ali other w o m e n of the same class, of feeble and

Sometimes

Sillitoe's

characters

respect

people

other

than

themselves; sometimes they value the k i n d , the humane, the sympathetic. A r t h u r , f o r example, holds in great esteem his A u n t A d a , a large w o m a n w h o feeds a dozen c h i l d r e n and assorted guests. He is w i l l i n g to confide in A d a , and he intends h i g h praise w h e n he says: " A t f i f t y she stili had the personality o f a promiscuous barmaid, a kindness to listen to any man's tale and sob l i k e a t w i n - s o u l i n t o his beer, even to b r i n g h i m home to bed

frustrated men w i t h the courage t o attack o n l y ten-year-old girls. In The General, Sillitoe f r e q u e n t l y refers to the illiterate masses on b o t h sides of the struggle. A gang of b r u t i s h soldiers nearly massacres the orchestra w h e n it first arrives in enemy t e r r i t o r y , and the general himself constantly speaks of his m e n as useless, st upid animals w h o live o n l y i n order to k i l i . Even A r m g a r d s o n , one of the members of the orchestra (the m e n of art and i n s i g h t ) , becomes so f u l l o f frustrated and barbaric

if she t h o u g h t it w o u l d make h i m feel better" (Saturday Night

energy t h a t he strangles the cat t h a t wanders about the b a r n in

and Sunday Morning, p. 77). A r t h u r can even sympathize w i t h

w h i c h the orchestra is imprisoned. M a n y men, in Sillitoe's w o r l d ,

others. H i s mistress (the w i f e of Jack, a w o r k e r at the same bicycle f a c t o r y )

becomes pregnant, and A r t h u r watches her

t r y to lose the baby by t a k i n g a scalding b a t h w h i l e d r i n k i n g a p i n t of g i n . For a m o m e n t he understands her pain and her p r i d e ; he can really feel h o w m u c h agony he's caused another person. Sillitoe is careful, however, n o t to d w e l l on the sentim e n t a l side of the revelation. A f t e r his m o m e n t of understanding and after the mistress has collapsed i n t o a miserable insensibility,

are b o t h vicious and stupid. A n x i o u s to get whatever t hey can f o r themselves, they cheat, lie, steal, k i l i , seldom aware t h a t the powers t h a t curdle their energy i n t o violence have also oppressed their v i c t i m s . Sillitoe's w o r l d is a j u n g l e . Governed by unjust and i nhum a ne restrictions, c o n f r o n t e d w i t h the essential c r u e l t y and s t u p i d i t y of h u m a n nature, it resembles the j u n g l e where creature fights creature w i t h o u t order or p r i n c i p l e . F r e q u e n t l y the novelist uses the image of the j u n g le d i r e c t l y . the end of Saturday Night and Sunday

Morning,

A r t h u r goes o u t to a p u b , meets his mistress' sister, and ends

Toward

the evening h a p p i l y i n another i l l i c i t bed. Sillitoe's characters

A r t h u r has suffered a severe beating f o r his sexual adventures

can understand and sympathize, can react honestly and d i r e c t l y ,

w i t h married w o m e n , he realizes w h a t the w o r l d is l i k e :

yet they are never capable, except f o r b r i e f moments, of heroic or even disinterested action. B o r n i n t o a h a r d w o r l d , given l i t t l e , pursued by the forces of an oppressive society, these characters take w h a t t hey can and seldom revel in their emotions. H e r o i s m is either f o l l y or a game

(as in The Loneliness of the Long-Dis­

tance Runner) calculated to delude the poliçe and other g o v e r n mental innocents w h o believe in such nonsense. I n a d d i t i o n , o n l y some o f Sillitoe's characters, like A d a , A r t h u r , or the long-distance runner, evince this honesty, this i n s i g h t , this occasional burst of s y m p a t h y f o r others. Most of the char­ acters in pubs and hovels and offices are cloddish and b r u t a l . T h e malicious gossip at the end of the r o w and the b r u t a l swad-

after

He did not ask whether he was in such a knocked-out state be­ cause he had lost the rights of love över two women, or because the two swaddies represented the raw edge of fang-and-claw on which ali laws were based, law and order against which he had been fîghting ali his life in such a thoughtless and unorganized way that he could not but lose. Such questions came later. The plain fact was that the two swaddies had got him at last—as he had known they would—and had bested him on the common battleground of the jungle. [P. 194.] Despite welfare measures and more or less steady jobs, the w o r k ingman's l i f e is s t i l i n o t saf e or secure:

24

ALAN

SİLLİTOE'S

JUNGLE

ALAN

No place existed in ali the world that could be called safe, and he knew for the first time in his life that there had never been any such thing as safety, and never would be, the difference being that now he knew it as a fact, whereas before it was a natural unconscious state. If you lived in a cave in the middle of a dark wood you weren't safe, not by a long way, he thought, and you had to sleep always with one eye open and a pile of sharp stones by your side, within easy reach of your fist. [P. 197O

SİLLİTOE'S

JUNGLE

25

his " c u n n i n g " in a direct struggle against the " c u n n i n g " of his governors and society. N o t ali the jungles of Sillitoe's w o r l d are simple statements of man's nature. Some jungles are social or i n s t i t u t i o n a l , the codified and established representations of man's nature. T h e bicycle f a c t o r y where A r t h u r w o r k s , a n i n s t i t u t i o n t h a t regularizes man's struggle against his fellows, and pits foreman against manager, w o r k e r against foreman, workers against one another,

T h r o u g h o u t The General, ali the characters refer to m a n as a

is such a representation. T h e organized society becomes, in S i l ­

" p r i m e v a l monster," l i v i n g in a furious and barbaric slime t h a t

litoe's w o r l d , the framevvork in w h i c h man's predatory instincts

no r a t i o n a l means can order or make safe. M a n himself has too

operate. Sillitoe calls his longest published poem " T h e Rats," and

m u c h frustrated force, too m u c h energy, t o s u b m i t himself t o

" r a t s " refers to ali the agents of organized p o l i t i c a l , religious,

any f o r m of sane c o n t r o l . As Starnberg, the sage of the orehes­

and governmental society w h o p r e y u p o n and t r y to devour the

t r a , reflects:

individual. Twice

(once in Saturday Night and Sunday Morning

and again i n a short story called "Noah's A r k " ) , Sillitoe uses a I used to think it would be a good world if ali this energy spent in war was used for peaceful things, . . . but the energy necessary to make a happy and prosperous peace is too small. The only reason there'11 ahvays be wars is that man has too much energy, not that he has too little intelligence. [Pp. 33 34-] _

f a i r g r o u n d amusement p a r k as an image f o r the i n s t i t u t i o n a l i z e d j u n g l e . T h e gaudy lights, the large wheels, the 'fast rides, the shoots, the f r i g h t , ali f o r m a structure t h a t represents man's passion and furious energy. B u t , l i k e the f a c t o r y or the g o v e r n ­ m e n t , the amusement p a r k structure, derived f r o m man's na­

T h e general himself also talks of man's nature, man's excessive

t u r e , does n o t adequately satisfy the i n d i v i d u a l man's energetic

energy, as p a r t of the reason m a n is unable to live in peace.

aims. T h e fierce and predatory i n d i v i d u a l is i n v a r i a b l y smacked

A l t h o u g h the general's estimate of man's intelligence is different

d o w n b y his i n s t i t u t i o n a l i z e d image. T h u s A r t h u r has t o r u n

f r o m Starnberg's estimate, the general expresses a somewhat

f r o m the amusement p a r k to escape the swaddies, let loose by

similar v i e w of w h a t m a n is l i k e :

the w h i r l i n g rides and lights. A n d y o u n g C o l i n , i n "Noah's A r k , " i s maliciously pitched off the m e r r y - g o - r o u n d o n w h i c h ,

Allow me to teli you that I've spent many years deciding what war is. It's the art of decimation. It is also nature's way of filling the empty sack-bag of men's ideals; it puts a machine-gun into their hands when a theory has been pushed to the limits of their intelligence. [P- 6 4 . ]

excited by the sights and the sounds, he t r i e d to ride free. Man's energy is constantly blocked by its o w n massive, corporate exaggeration, by the j u n g l e . Y e t Sillitoe does n o t always use the j u n g l e as the i n d i c a t i o n o f e v i l . I n contrast t o the simple f o r m u l a t i o n , the r a t i o n a l o r

Energetic, f o r c e f u l , and i r r a t i o n a l , Sillitoe's characters are sur-

scientific means of c o n t r o l l i n g the h u m a n , the j u n g l e (the v e r y

rounded by other energetic and f o r c e f u l creatures. T h e y can

apotheosis of the h u m a n ) is valuable. In one story, " T h e D e -

o n l y p i t their s k i l l and power against the skill and power of

cline and F a i l of Frankie B u l l e r , " a narrator recalls his c h i l d -

others, as A r t h u r , w i t h o u t conscience, uses his c h a r m and energy

hood gang, led by a feeble-minded y o u n g m a n of t w e n t y . Years

to w i n other men's wives and the long-distance r u n n e r pits

later the na rra t or returns and finds the feeble-minded m a n ,

26

ALAN

SİLLİTOE'S

JUNGLE

ALAN

Frankie, r u n n i n g his o w n small w o o d business w i t h a p o n y and a cart. Frankie has spent a year in a m e n t a l hospital, b u t , to the narrator, he does n o t seem changed: I realized that Frankie's world was after ali untouchable, that the conscientious-scientific-methodical probers could no doubt reach it, could drive it into hiding, could kili the physical body that housed it, but had no power in the long run really to harm such minds. There is a part of the jungle that the scalpel can never reach. [The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Runner, pp. 174-175.] T h e scalpel, man's rational and scientific i n s t r u m e n t , cannot penetrate i n t o ali the darkness, the v i g o r , the c o m p l e x i t y of the h u m a n jungle o f feeling and desire. I n Sillitoe's w o r l d p a r t o f man's nature remains beyond the reach of science, and if this p a r t , this j u n g l e , is often barbaric and destructive, it is also

SİLLİTOE'S

JUNGLE

27

No more short-time like before the war, or getting the sack if you stood ten minutes in the lavatory reading your Football Post —ıf the gaffer got on to you now you could always teli him where to put the job and go somewhere else. And no more running out at dinnertime for a penny bag of chips to eat with your bread. Now, and about time too, you got fair wages if you worked your backbone to a string of conkers on piece-work, and there was a big canteen where you could get a hot dinner for two-bob. With the wages you got you could save up for a motor-bike or even an old car, or you could go on a ten-day binge and get rid of ali you'd saved. Because it was no use saving your money year after year. A mug's game, since the value of it got less and less and in any ease you never knew when the Yanks were going to do something daft like dropping the H-bomb on Moscow. And if they did then you could say ta-ta to everybody, burn your football coupons and betting-slips, and ring-up Billy Graham. If you believe in God, which I don't, he said to himself. [P. 23.]

h u m a n and v i t a l . Sillitoe's j u n g le w o r l d is u l t i m a t e l y governed by pure chance. Events occur, far beyond the c o n t r o l or comprehension of i n dividuals, w h i c h alter life t h r o u g h the whole w o r l d . In Saturday Night and Sunday

Morning,

Sillitoe

frequently

returns

to

the

theme o f W o r l d W a r I I , the vast event t h a t k i l l e d m a n y i n a cause they l i t t l e understood, b r o u g h t others o u t of the p o v e r t y and starvation they had come to accept as n o r m a l . T i m e , in the novel, is often a large wheel, a huge t u r n i n g force t h a t can crush or elevate m a n , b u t is n o t amenable to h u m a n principles or concerns. T h e wheel of the week blazes b r i g h t l y on Saturday n i g h t , then slows to the weak stomach and cigarette aftertaste of M o n d a y m o r n i n g , w h i l e larger wheels, unchartable and t ı n predictable, raise m a n to the pleasures of good wages and w o m e n and d r i n k , then lower h i m i n t o the misery of war, bad health, and angry husbands. A r t h u r is aware t h a t , given his t i m e and place, he has been on the crest of the wheel most of his adult l i f e . B u t he has no f a i t h t h a t h e ' l l stay there. Even at the beg i n n i n g of the novel, before any event has gone against h i m , he thinks;

T h e possibility of the H - b o m b creates a good deal of the u n ­ c e r t a i n t y in the b a c k g r o u n d of Sillitoe's characters, yet t hey do n o t t r e m b le w h e n they speak o f i t o r j o i n committees t o advocate a sane nuclear p o l i c y . On the c o n t r a r y , A r t h u r rather enjoys t e l l i n g his farmer uncle about the possible efreets of radiation. T h e H - b o m b is less an appalling h o r r o r t h a n f u r t h e r evidence of life's essential u n c e r t a i n t y , another vast and unpredictable pos­ s i b i l i t y t h a t must be lived w i t h . S t i l i , wages are good and no H - b o m b has fallen yet. T h u s A r t h u r is l u c k y and he recognizes i t . In fact, he attributes his good j o b , his success w i t h w o m e n , and his fine clothes to his good l u c k . In the m i d s t of his affair w i t h Jack's w i f e , he f r e q u e n t l y t h i n k s t h a t Jack is just u n l u e k y . Some men, A r t h u r feels, have a force of character t h a t prevents their wives f r o m being u n f a i t h f u l . T h a t Jack lacks this force of character is, to A r t h u r , just bad l u c k , just the w a y Jack happens to be. S i m i l a r l y , A r t h u r does n o t give himself credit w h e n he feels t h a t no w i f e w o u l d be u n f a i t h f u l to h i m ; he's certain t h a t he's just l u c k y w i t h w o m e n . T h e "sIow husband" ( l i k e Jack) and the henpecked one ( l i k e M r . B u l l , the husband of the gossip at the

28

ALAN

SİLLİTOE'S

ALAN

JUNGLE

end o f A r t h u r ' s street) m i g h t d o more, A r t h u r t h i n k s , t o c o n t r o l their wives. Y e t they are n o t the sort of people w h o exercise c o n t r o l and they have l i t t l e responsibility for the sort of people they are. A r t h u r , l i k e Sillitoe, neither pities t h e m nor castigates t h e m ; people either are l u c k y or they're not. S i m i l a r l y , in The General, Sillitoe makes it clear t h a t m a n has l i t t l e c o n t r o l ö v e r w h a t happens to h i m . T h e imprisoned members of the orehestra recognize t h a t t hey have no c o n t r o l ö v e r whether or n o t they w i l l be p e r m i t t e d to live. T h e y m a y hope or n o t hope, reason or n o t reason, as their o w n characters indicate, b u t their hopes or reasons have n o t h i n g to do w i t h w h a t oecurs. As the leader of the orehestra says: " H o p e has n o t h i n g to do w i t h reason, because the impossible can always happen. If and w h c n it does it nearly always t u r n s o u t to be something nobody had t h o u g h t o f " ( p . 1 1 4 ) . Even the general, supposedly in c o n t r o l yet defeated and

SİLLİTOE'S

JUNGLE

29

were away f r o m it a l i , s i t t i n g on the osier-lined banks of a canal w a i t i n g for fish to bite, or l y i n g in bed w i t h a w o m a n y o u l o v e d " ( p . 1 4 0 ) . A l t h o u g h his excursions i n t o bed sometimes become more complicated, and reflect the j u n g le itself, his fishing remains a means of f i n d i n g t e m p o r a r y peace and c o m f o r t . A n d , late in the novel, A r t h u r meets Doreen, the simple g i r l w h o understands, the g i r l he f i n a l l y decides to m a r r y . Doreen, l i k e fishing, is a refuge, and at the end of the novel A r t h u r f i n a l l y takes her fishing w i t h h i m . Doreen and the fish cannot b l o t o u t the f a c t o r y j u n g l e , b u t A r t h u r can recognize his "peace" and keep i t w i t h h i m . I n other words, the sentimental pastoral q u a l i t y o f the end o f the novel is o n l y p a r t i a l ; A r t h u r stili needs to face his j o b and himself. A n d Doreen is n o t just a fish. She is also a w o m a n , a creature w h o forces issues and w h o makes demands on Arthur.

disgraced at the end of the novel, does n o t feel responsible f o r

At one p o i n t Sillitoe projects the pastoral vision i n t o the past,

his o w n disaster. F r o m an exterior p o i n t of v i e w , he allowed his

shifts the perspective so t h a t the j u n g le becomes n o t a permanent

feeling for the captured orehestra, f o r music, to overrule his

p a r t o f man's nature b u t a n o u t g r o w t h o f the I n d u s t r i a l R e v o l u -

m i l i t a r y j u d g m e n t and obedience. Y e t he was unable to c u t off

tion:

his a t t r a c t i o n to music, unable to stop the appeal of a r t : But, he told himself, we've no power to alter the circumstances that are unknowingly shaping our lives. We can only wait, in our happy oblivion, or hopeful suffering, for the results of these unknown movements to affect us. [P. 187.] M a n , the creature of the j u n g l e , is determined by forces stronger t h a n he. A l t h o u g h the j u n g le is constant and man's nature is deter­ m i n e d , Sillitoe's characters search f o r ways o u t of the jungle.

Arthur was happy in the country. He remembered his grandfather who had been a blacksmith, and had a house and forge at Wollaton village. Fred had often taken him there, and its memory was a fixed picture in Arthur's mind. The building—you had drawn your own water from a well, dug your own potatoes out of the garden, taken eggs from the chicken run to fry with bacon off your own side of pig hanging salted from a hook in the pantry —had long ago been destroyed to make room for advancing armies of new pink houses, flowing över the fields like red ink on green blotting-paper. [Pp. 223-224.]

In Saturday Night and Sunday Morning, A r t h u r recognizes w h a t

Y e t Sillitoe does n o t allow A r t h u r to indulge in such revery f o r

the f a c t o r y w o r l d is like and t h a t he cannot really exist outside

v e r y l o n g . If the jungle is specifically a t w e n t i e t h - c e n t u r y

t h a t w o r l d . At the same t i m e he Iongs f o r "peace," longs f o r

phenomenon, A r t h u r is a t w e n t i e t h - c e n t u r y m a n , p a r t of the

an escape f r o m the r e v o l v i n g Ferris wheel of his j o b and his

j u n g le and f u l l y aware of the issues it forces m a n to face.

relationships. W h e n he gets the chance he goes fishing, o u t away

T h e fish, f o r A r t h u r , is a symbol of peace and c o n t e n t m e n t

f r o m the factory and the pub and the t o w n . Midvvay t h r o u g h

in more ways t h a n one. Sometimes, w h e n he cannot get off to

the novel, A r t h u r says: " T h e o n l y peace y o u got was w h e n y o u

the c o u n t r y , A r t h u r likes to spend the evening c a r v i n g a fish

3O

ALAN

SİLLİTOE'S

JUNGLE

f o r his float, shaping it carefully as a means of c a p t u r i n g some of the pleasure of fishing. He paints these carvings in i n t r i c a t e designs and gaudy colors, d u p l i c a t i n g the passion and the energy associated w i t h the amusement p a r k in his image of c o n t e n t m e n t — a n d , for the m o m e n t , the w o r l d he lives in seems to vanish. T h e n , too, he recognizes his o w n i d e n t i t y in the fish: Mostly you were like a fish: you swam about w i t h freedom, thinking how good it was to be left alone, doing anything you wanted to do and caring about no one, when suddenly: S P L U T C H ! — the big hook clapped itself into your mouth and you were caught. [P. 236.] The fish, too, is p a r t of the j u n g l e, t h a t p a r t of m a n w h i c h craves peace and c o n t e n t m e n t , yet is caught by the w o r l d as a whole. A r t h u r comes to recognize t h a t the same jungle holds b o t h fish and predatory, c l a w i n g creatures, t h a t b o t h k i n d s o f v i t a l i t y exist w i t h i n m a n . On the last fishing excursion of the novel he is able to feel his i d e n t i t y w i t h the fish s t r o n g l y enough to t h r o w his catch back i n t o the stream. T h e fish, the representation of escape f r o m the j u n g l e , is really p a r t of the j u n g le after a l i. M a n has no genuine alternatives, o n l y l i m i t e d and t e m p o r a r y choices, and A r t h u r can, at least once, choose to t h r o w a fish back i n t o the stream. Man's possible ways o u t of the j u n g le in The General are more abstract. ( A l t h o u g h this novel avoids any sentimental or pastoral note, it loses some of the immediate power of Saturday Night and Sunday Morning.) In The General, man's possibilities revolve around a conflict between maps and music as t w o abstractions capable o f l i f t i n g h i m f r o m the p r i m e v a l slime o f his o w n nature. E a r l y in the novel Starnberg, the most articulate member of the orchestra, talks of his boyhood desire to be a surveyor. Maps fascinated h i m , b u t he finally decided to study music instead. The p r i n c i p a l conflict between maps and music, the more precise and the more humane abstraction, takes place, however, w i t h i n the general, the central figüre in the novel. At the beginning he is preoccupied w i t h maps:

ALAN

SİLLİTOE'S

JUNGLE

3 I

He closed the door, and the presence of surrounding maps filled him with a sense of poetic veneration. Walking from one wall to another he was shrewdly entranced by the beauty of their design, calculatingly fascinated by the black curving raihvays and the differing geometrical shapes of plain and forest land. Nothing could mar the beauty of topographical maps, he said to himself; they were faultless representations of the earth's surface, w i t h ali the numerous marks of man's and nature's accomplishments set plainly upon them. [P. 4 9 . ] At this p o i n t the general is victorious, at the s u m m i t of his wheel.

H i s maps represent his intellectual

achievement, his

means of a p p l y i n g his reason and his power to experience in order to b r i n g it under his c o n r t o l . So far, like his maps, he has been faultless. B u t w h e n his troops capture the orchestra, the general decides to t a l k to the orchestra leader rather t h a n , in obedience to orders, k i l i ali the captives immediately. The orchestra leader does n o t understand maps, and the general begins to realize the possibility of other forms of abstraction, other arts. T h e general hesitates, and finally asks the orchestra to give a concert f o r h i m i n r e t u r n f o r t w o additional days o f l i f e . D u r i n g the concert h e realizes t h a t music is a more complete, more inclusive, f o r m of art t h a n the m a p ; music manages to capture more relevant and i n t r i n s i c forms of h u m a n experience: The final music caught the General dwelling on one of the mass surprise attacks for which he had become famous; it dragged him like a gust of cannon fire from the pedestal on which he had set himself, and the barbarous loud rhythms flayed his mind and mocked him, showed the wake of an offensive: conventional signs of blooded tree stumps and mounds of rubble, horizontal levels of burning ground, spot heights covered by the representative fractions of dismembered bodies, streams red w i t h blood an hour after sunrise, lanes of fire and roads of smoke, scorched hachuring to mark the heightened elevation of his searching guns. . . . The music illuminated his vision, and its final symphonic beats synchronized his resignation to the slow steps of advancing fate. [Pp. 126-127.]

32

ALAN

SİLLİTOE'S

ALAN

JUNGLE

Maps no longer w o r k f o r the general. He permits the orchestra members to l i v e , and he begins to make tactical and m i l i t a r y mistakes. F i n a l l y he formulates a p l a n f o r the orchestra's escape, an escape t h a t triggers the counterattack t h a t defeats the general. T h e more comprehensive, the more humane, art f o r m has no place i n the j u n g l e w o r l d o f m i l i t a r y achievement, b u t the gen­

SİLLİTOE'S

JUNGLE

33

what honesty means if it's the last thing I do, though I'm sure he'll never understand because if he and ali them like him did it'd mean they'd be on my side which is impossible. By God I'll stick this out like my dad stuck out his pain and kicked them doctors down the stairs. [Loneliness of the Long-Distance Runner, p. $ 1.] In his defiance the y o u n g r u n n e r asserts his o n l y means of trans-

eral neither regrets n o r applauds his choice. T h e development

cending the j u n g l e . He isn't able to escape or to create a r t ; he

was inevitable. Once he apprehended the greater relevance of

can s i m p l y and honestly stick to his o w n class and his o w n

music, he had to abandon maps, even t h o u g h the less coherent

values, no m a t t e r w h a t the consequences m a y be. H i s recognition

f o r m p r o v i d e d a successful chart t h r o u g h the j u n g l e . Man's

of his j u n g l e and his refusal to barter f o r a better position in a

highest achievements, the most comprehensive abstractions of

seheme he never made are the o n l y ways he has of exercising his

h u m a n experience, are, i r o n i c a l l y , of l i t t l e use w i t h i n the terms

force and i m a g i n a t i o n .

of experience itself.

N o t h i n g really changes Sillitoe's jungle w o r l d . A m a n m a y

" T h e Loneliness of the Long-Distance R u n n e r " makes ex-

w i n or lose, depending on the wheel of chance, b u t he cannot

p l i c i t s t i l i another possibility for m a n in his a t t e m pt to f i g h t his

c o n t r o l the wheel or change his position. O f t e n , too, the wheel

w a y o u t o f his j u n g l e . T h e y o u n g r u n n e r , b o r n and bred i n

is rigged, f o r the same numbers keep c o m i n g up as privilege and

p o v e r t y , sent to Borstal at the age of fifteen, has l i t t l e chance

power keep r e i n f o r c i n g themselves. B u t n o t ali of m a n is con-

to w i n in the w o r l d of the j u n g l e . B u t he can be honest; he can

t r o l l e d by the wheel. M a n can i n v e n t escapes, create art, focus

recognize the facts of j u n g l e l i f e , the inevitable warfare between

defiantly on the wheel's essential strueture. A n d the escape, the

those w h o j a i l and those w h o are jailed. As he runs his deliberately

art, and the honesty, unable to alter the w o r l d , are themselves

losing race, the r u n n e r ponders the question of honesty. He feels

a part of man's nature, an i l l u s o ry route o u t of the jungle w h i c h

t h a t the governor, w h o has urged h i m to r u n and has promised

stems f r o m the fertile and v i b r a n t jungle itself. The wheel, the

h i m lenient t r e a t m e n t if he w i n s , is essentially dishonest, f o r the

exterior f o r t u n e , is r i g i d and inflexible; the jungle, the interior,

governor is, on the surface, w o r k i n g against his o w n class, using

is dark and r i c h and alive.

k i n d words and bland promises to cover his basic opposition to the y o u n g r u n n e r . T h e governor is refusing to a d m i t the c o n stant antagonism between the t w o w a r r i n g sides in the j ungl e. T h e r u n n e r has far more respect f o r the policeman w h o captured h i m : at least the policeman, t h o u g h vicious, was honestly antagonistic. T h e r u n n e r f i n a l l y decides to lose: I say, I won't budge, I won't go for that last hundred yards if I have to sit down cross-legged on the grass and have the governor and his chinless wonders pick me up and carry me there, which is against their rules so you can bet they'd never do it because they're not ele ver enough to break the rules—like I would be in their place—even though they are their own. No, I'll show him

KİNGSLEY

AMİS'

FUNNY

NOVELS

3 5

Lewis, the hero of That Uncertain Feeling, also m i m i c s accents and satirically characterizes other people by the words and phrases they use. He supports his objection to Probert's pseudoWelsh play by enumerating its m i s t y abstractions, and he tears apart Probert's use of d i c t i o n : Words like "death" and "life" and "love" and "man" cropped up every few lines, but were never attached to anything concrete or specific. "Death," for example, wasn't my death or your death or his death or her death or our death or their death or my Aunt Fanny's death, but just death, and in the same way "love" wasn't my, ete, love and wasn't love of one person for another or love of God or love of blackcurrant puree either, but just love. There were also bits from the Bible turned back to front ( " I n the word was the beginning" and so on), and bits of daring jargon ("No hawkers, circulars or saints," "Dai Christ"). Dear, dear, the thing was symbolical ali right. [P. 109.]

Kingsley Amis' Funny Novels

Garnet B o w e n , the protagonist of 7 Like It Here, makes f u n of KINGSLEY

Lucky

Jim

(1954),

AMIS

That

HAS

WRITTEN

Uncertain

FOUR

Feeling

(1955),

1

NOVELS:

Like

İt

the w a y his foreign students mispronounce English, as they refer t o authors like " G r i m - G r i n , " " I f f l e n - V o f f , " " Z u m z i t - M u m , " and

( 1 9 6 0 ) . Each of the

"Shem-Shoice," and are fascinated by the popular novel "Sickies

novels is distinguished by a t h i c k verbal texture t h a t is essentially

o f s i c k i n g d o m " b y " E d g e - C r o w n . " A i d e d b y garbled telephone

Here

( 1 9 5 8 ) , and Take a Girl Like You

FUNNY

comic. The novels are f u l l of w o r d play and verbal jokes. A n y

calls and telegrams, this phonetic h u m o r helps to establish the

chance observation is l i k e l y to b r i n g f o r t h a list of vaguely as-

r i c h , comic texture o f A m i s ' w r i t i n g .

sociated comic improbabilities. T h i s verbal texture is often made

A m i s also f r e q u e n t l y uses an incongruous comic image d r a w n

up of lists of specific and contemporary references, s t r u n g t o -

f r o m c o n t e m p o r a r y l i f e . O f t e n such an image serves as an

gether in a comic manner. One character in That Uncertain

introduetion

Feeling need o n l y m e n t i o n the g r o w i n g Welsh i n d u s t r i a l area

John Lewis spots Elizabeth, his f u t u r e mistress, at a p a r t y : "She

for another to expand i m m e d i a t e l y : ". . . like the m o u n t e d t o y

was w e a r i n g an orange-reddish dress w h i c h gave her an air of

to

a

character.

Early

in

That

Uncertain

Feeling,

soldier f a c t o r y near Fforestfawr, they're m a k i n g denture boxes

i g n o r a n t wildness and freedom, like the d r u n k e n daughter of

just on the other side of L l a n t w r c h , and t h e n there's the bicycle

some m a n of l e a r n i n g " ( p . 3 5 ) . P a t r i c k Standish, in Take a Girl

183). In

Like You, first meets the expensive w o m a n w i t h w h o m , as ar-

saddles s t a r t i n g u p n e x t m o n t h a t C w m p a n t "

(p.

a d d i t i on to the comedy of specific reference, A m i s also phonet-

ranged b y a f r i e n d , he w i l l spend the n i g h t : "She looked like a

ically reproduces various forms of speech for comic effect. A l i

b r i l l i a n t l y c a t t y novelist and reviewer w i t h a P h . D . on W i t t g e n -

A m i s ' heroes are m i m i c s : J i m D i x o n parodies the accent of Pro-

stein" ( p . 2 2 0 ) . Frequently the comic image intrudes at some

fessor W e l c h , his p h o n y and genteel professor, in Lucky Jim;

supposedly serious or v i t a l m o m e n t , as, f o r example, w h e n P a t r i c k

P a t r i c k Standish, in Take a Girl Like You, deliberately echoes

makes his first a t t e m p t to seduce y o u n g Jenny B u n n :

the H o l l y w o o d version of the Southern Negro's accent. John

}6

KINGSLEY

AMİS'

FUNNY

KINGSLEY

NOVELS

Before long Patrick slipped his left hand under her dress in the non-important places: back, shoulders, upper arms. It was rather like one of the kids at school getting out of his seat to borrow a pencil-sharpener or pick up a writing-book when you knew that what he really wanted to do was run round the room yelling. [P. 5 8 . ]

AMİS'

FUNNY

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on medieval s h i p b u i l d i n g w h i c h J i m has w r i t t e n , even t h o u g h he has presumably accepted it f o r p u b l i c a t i o n . Near the end of the novel J i m learns i n d i r e c t l y t h a t C a t o n has r u n off to accept an appointment in A r g e n t i n a . In Take a Girl Like You, w h i c h takes place f o u r or five years after Lucky Jim, Patrick's headmaster shows h i m a letter in w h i c h the w r i t e r , recently r e t u r n e d

Later in the novel, w h e n Jenny, upset, d r i n k s too m u c h at a

f r o m A r g e n t i n a , offers to give a t a l k to students on A r g e n t i n e

p a r t y , she " r a n i n t o the b a t h r o o m and was sick, h u r l i n g herself

educational i n s t i t u t i o n s . T h e w r i t e r , sounding as s l i m y as ever,

f o r w a r d l i k e a rugger-player o n T V scoring a t r y " ( p . 3 0 8 ) .

is L. S. C a t o n .

Sometimes the comic image is repeated and becomes a tag t h a t

W i t h i n A m i s ' w o r l d the comic image or comparison is so

identifies the fact t h r o u g h o u t the novel. In Take a Girl Like You,

i m p o r t a n t t h a t it f r e q u e n t l y i n t e r r u p t s a crucial scene or rela-

the c o o k i n g at the Thompsons' boardinghouse, where Jenny

tionship. Digression and irrelevance are c o n t i n u a l l y played

lives, is described in terms of the haddock t h a t tasted as if it

against presumably i m p o r t a n t action or revelation. In Lucky

came f r o m the "lionhouse" at the zoo, the beef t h a t tasted of

Jim, f o r example, J i m is speaking to Christine, the L o n d o n g i r l

" d a m p t e a - t o w e l , " the " r u s t y - k n i v e s steak pie," the "cardboard

w h o becomes his f i n a l r e w a r d . A t this p o i n t i n the novel C h r i s ­

c h i c k e n " and the " d i r t y - d o g m i n c e . " These images go t h r o u g h

tine is s t i l i connected w i t h B e r t r a n d W e l c h , the professor's

the novel l i k e a r e f r a i n , appearing whenever the Thompsons'

son and a pseudo artist. Christine and J i m are first b e g i n n i n g to

cooking is mentioned.

recognize and acknowledge their feeling f o r each other w h e n the

A m i s seems to erect a whole comic w o r l d t h r o u g h the fabric

f o l l o w i n g dialogue takes place:

of his w r i t i n g . The same kinds of lists, of images, of comic specific references figüre in each of the novels. Occasionally comic references are carried ö v e r f r o m one novel to another, r e i n f o r c i n g the n o t i o n of a complete comic w o r l d . For example, one of the characters in That Uncertain Feeling is the dentist's mistress. She appears at every p a r t y in the novel and seems to be available to almost any m a n , yet she does n o t play an i m p o r t a n t p a r t in the action, is never i n d i v i d u a l i z e d , and is always referred to as "the dentist's mistress." T h e n , at one p o i n t in 7 Like It Here,

"Yes, that's right. You talk as if it's the only thing that is. If you can teli me whether you like greengages or not, you can teli me whether you're in love with Bertrand or not, if you want to teli me, that is." "You're stili making it much too simple. Ali I can really say is that I'm pretty sure I was in love with Bertrand a little while ago, and now I'm rather less sure. That up-and-down business doesn't happen with greengages; that's the difference."

horses: auctioneers' wives, solicitors' daughters, dentists' m i s -

"Not with greengages, agreed. But what about rhubarb, eh? What about rhubarb? Ever since my mother stopped forcing me to eat it, rhubarb and I have been conducting a relationship that can swing betvveen love and hatred every time we meet."

tresses, on a bad day even—he supposed dimly—aristocrats w i t h

[P. 147.]

Bowen muses about his wife's interest in r i d i n g : " Y o u never k n e w the sort o f people y o u m i g h t meet i n connection w i t h

t i t l e s " ( p . 1 7 8 ) . A n apparently more deliberate example o f the same k i n d of l i n k between t w o different novels occurs in the

L o v e takes second place to greengages and r h u b a r b . In That

character of D r . L. S. C a t o n . C a t o n is a somewhat shoddy e d i t ö r

Uncertain Feeling, J o h n Lewis' immediate m e m o r y of his eve-

i n Lucky Jim w h o refuses t o say w h e n he w i l l p u b l i s h an article

n i n g on the beach w i t h Elizabeth is far more concerned w i t h

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the meaning and the m a g n i t u d e of his three mosquito bites t h a n w i t h their i n i t i a l l o v e - m a k i n g or the serious argument t h a t followed. A n d Garnet Bowen is kept f r o m i n f i d e l i t y w i t h a lovely Portuguese g i r l o n l y by the u n t i m e l y sting of a wasp. In fact, sexual crises are more apt t h a n any others to be i n t e r r u p t e d by a comic image or an extraneous fact. A l i kisses are comically c o m pared or discussed at some l e n g t h ; ali sex, p a r t i c u l a r l y in Take a Girl Like You, is made a m a t t e r of semicomic maneuver or is i n t e r r u p t e d by an irrelevant t h o u g h t or i nc i de nt. The fabric of the novels, the q u i c k verbal incongruities and the comic i n c i dents, takes precedence ö v e r supposedly significant action. As the action in the novels is f r e q u e n t l y i n t e r r u p t e d f o r a

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the prettiest g i r l , the easiest j o b . A l t h o u g h he

spends a good share of the novel in a k i n d of earthy opposition to the genteel hypocrisy at the p r o v i n c i a l u n i v e r s i t y , he ends by receiving the opportunist's reward. He is offered a new and better job i n L o n d o n f r o m the f a i r y godfather, G o r e - U r q u h a r t , w h o explains: " I t ' s n o t t h a t y o u ' v e got the qualifications, f o r this or any other w o r k , b u t there are p l e n t y w h o have. Y o u haven't got the disqualifications, t h o u g h , and that's m u c h rarer" ( p . 2 3 8 ) . B u t Jim's v i c t o r y i s accomplished o n l y b y a s h i f t i n t o the realm of fantasy. He has lost his j o b , has been beaten by the w o r l d of sham, w h e n he suddenly receives the prizes of the g i r l and the new job in a f a i r y - t a l e ending. T h e ending is a gesture,

comic image or a joke, so the apparent m o r a l issues of the novels

a representation in fantasy of ali t h a t J i m wants, n o t the logical

do n o t f o l l o w a clear or consistent line. A l i A m i s ' heroes t a l k

outcome of the m o r a l issues demonstrated in the novel.

a great deal about honesty and i n t e g r i t y , make f u n of others w h o indulge in pretense or self-delusion, and regard themselves as simple, direct, and honest. To some extent this version of themselves is accurate, f o r they ali share a respect for the w o r k they do. J i m D i x o n m a y have taken up medieval history because it was the easiest subject at his u n i v e r s i t y , b u t he recognizes and respects good teaching and good scholarship. Part of his lack o f ease stems f r o m his difficulty i n s u b s t i t u t i n g the t r i v i a o f academic l i f e f o r genuine knowledge and relevance. S i m i l a r l y , J o h n Lewis is a competent l i b r a r i a n ; Jenny B u n n is w e l l able to deal w i t h the l i t t l e mongrels in her la class; and P a t r i c k Standish, despite his love f o r d r i n k and w o m e n , is a s k i l l f u l , perceptive, and popular teacher.

J o h n Lewis constantly debates and worries about m o r a l issues. Each t i m e Elizabeth carries h i m off f o r the evening, he suffers pangs o f g u i l t for deserting his w i f e , f o r consorting w i t h the " A n g l i c i z e d U p p e r Classes." Y e t he is never honest w i t h E l i z a beth. At one p o i n t he even intends to project his g u i l t by p h o n i n g her and t e l l i n g her off, b u t after a l o n g diatribe he notices t h a t he's f o r g o t t e n to press B u t t o n A; she hasn't heard a w o r d he said. Clearly this g u i l t is part posture, f o r John is s i n g u l a r l y dense about m o r a l issues. He does n o t understand Elizabeth and judges her by the r i g i d n o n c o n f o r m i s t code of his home village. W h e n he maintains that he w i l l give up the better job he gained t h r o u g h his affair w i t h Elizabeth, he is unable to understand his wife's m o r a l position: as he had already violated their marriage,

Y e t occupational i n t e g r i t y , for A m i s , is o n l y a small p a r t

he m i g h t just as w e l l reap the benefits of the v i o l a t i o n . J o h n , in

of a m u c h larger issue. The social and the sexual consume far

the complex w o r l d of A b e r d a r c y , can neither understand and

more t i m e and speculation in ali A m i s ' novels, and here the

f o l l o w a moral line of conduct, nor live w i t h the consequences

characters are less easy, confident, and honest. J i m D i x o n refuses

of his o w n i m m o r a l i t y . He is, therefore, unable to operate suc-

to be caught by academic or a r t y pretense and needs to convince

cessfully in society. At the end he can o n l y recognize his o w n

himself t h a t the neurotic Margaret's h o l d on h i m is deceitful

cowardice and retreat to the m i n i n g t o w n he came f r o m .

before he can h a p p i l y abandon her f o r his prize, Christine. Y e t J i m does leave Margaret, deceit n o t w i t h s t a n d i n g , just w h e n she needs h i m most, and his values have always been those of the

Heroes in the later A m i s novels are able to handle themselves and their worlds more successfully, a l t h o u g h i n t e g r i t y is s t i l i more a matter for debate and comic speculation t h a n an under-

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l y i n g guide for action. In 7 Like It Here, Garnet Bowen is a free-

P a t r i c k t r i c k s her i n t o c a p i t u l a t i o n w h i l e she is d r u n k . A l t h o u g h

Iancc w r i t e r . He takes a holiday in P o r t u g a l , b u t he is also there,

m o r a l issues make Jenny periodically resolve n o t to see P a t r i c k

at the request of a publisher's agent, to discover whether or n o t

again, such resolutions never h o l d , and at the end she is able to

an old novelist is the genuine W u l f s t a n Strether. Garnet's w i f e

say, " W e l l , those o l d Bible-class ideas have certainly t aken a

keeps insisting t h a t the snooping i n v o l v e d is i m m o r a l , and t h a t

k n o c k i n g , haven't t h e y ? " Jenny has learned that, in order to

Bowen must give up the project and assert his o w n convictions.

keep P a t r i c k and to operate successfully in the more sophisticated

Y e t Bowen, m o r a l l y ambivalent, w i t h o u t ever really resolving

t o w n she has moved t o , she must abandon the m o r a l principles

the issues his w i f e presents, persists and makes his discovery ( t h e

she grew up w i t h . Self-interest demands the abrogation of p r i n -

o l d m a n is g e n u i n e ) . For ali the debate, m o r a l i t y and i n t e g r i t y

ciple, and Jenny, l i v i n g in a w o r l d different f r o m her parents',

are n o t the issues of the novel. T h e p o i n t is that B o w e n , u n l i k e

is no f o o l . A g a i n the relevance of m o r a l i t y is pushed back i n t o

John Lewis, has been able to cope succcssfully w i t h the w o r l d

another age, f o r , as P a t r i c k explains d u r i n g one of his earlier

about h i m . M o r a l i t y is u l t i m a t e l y irrelevant. As Bowen muses

arguments w i t h Jenny:

w h e n he visits Fielding's t o m b in L i s b o n : Perhaps it was worth dying in your forties if two hundred years later you were the only non-contemporary novelist who could be read with unaffected and whole-hearted interest, the only one who never had to be apologised for or excused on the grounds of changing taste. And how enviable to live in the world of his novels, where duty was plain, evil arose out of malevolence and a starving wayfarer could be invited indoors without hesitation and without fear. Did that make it a simplified world? Perhaps, but that hardly mattered beside the cxistence of a moral seriousness that could be made apparent without the aid of evangelical puffing and blowing. [P. 185.]

There used to be a third sort, admitted. The sort that could, but didn't—not with the girl he was going to marry, anyway. You'd have liked him ali right, though, and he wouldn't have given you any trouble trying to get you into bed before the day. The snag about him is he's dead. He died in 1914 or thereabouts. He isn't ever going to turn up, Jenny, that bloke with the manners and the respect and the honour and the bunches of flowers and the attraction. Or if he does he's going to turn out to have a wife in Birmingham or a boy friend in Chelsea or a psychiatrist in . . . wherever psychiatrists live. [Pp. 159-160.] These days, people either can or can't. I n A m i s ' contemporary fictional w o r l d , m o r a l i t y i s simply

M o r a l i t y and i n t e g r i t y , as simple and unpretentious issues, are

material—conversational, controversial at times, b u t never the

n o w o n l y echoes f r o m a past w o r l d . A n d A m i s is n o t the sort of

issue along w h i c h the novel is directed. T h e theme of the novels

novelist to spend m a n y of his pages l a m e n t i n g w h a t is past and

is u l t i m a t e l y adjustment, adjustment of the i n d i v i d u a l and his

gone. Similarly, in Take a Girl Like You, m o r a l i t y , specifically scxual

aims to the wi der society in w h i c h he lives. T h e first t w o novels, by demonstrating t h a t the adjustment is either in the realm of

here, is the subject of incessant debate b u t does n o t affect the

fantasy or altogether impossible, at least provide some c o m m e n -

outcome of the story. Jenny B u n n , a y o u n g g i r l f r o m the more

t a r y , some question, on the value of adjustment. B u t the t w o

cloistered n o r t h , is determined to keep her v i r g i n i t y ; P a t r i c k is

more recent novels neglect the c o m m e n t a r y e n t i r e l y ; the i n d i ­

just as determined to take it f r o m her. The argument, often

v i d u a l must adjust to his w o r l d in order to make his w a y suc­

handled in comic terms, runs t h r o u g h o u t the book. Jenny loses

cessfully t h r o u g h i t . T h i s a t t i t u d e fits w i t h the comic imagery,

her v i r g i n i t y , b u t n o t as a result of m o r a l or i m m o r a l suasion;

the i n t e r r u p t i o n , the comic perspective i n A m i s ' w o r l d . I f m a n

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faces a w o r l d where experience is c o n st a n t ly fragmented and incongruous, where no single line of c o n d u c t is invulnerable f r o m the ridicule of another p o i n t of v i e w , his o n l y possibility is to concentrate on his i n d i v i d u a l desires and make his w a y t h r o u g h the w o r l d as best he can. A m i s ' p o i n t of v i ew is u l t i m a t e l y a comic acceptance of the contemporary w o r l d as it is, a recognit i o n o f m u l t i p l e facts o f experience w i t h o u t any c o m m i t m e n t concerning the relative value of those facts. T h a t the first t w o novels seem to p r o v i d e some c o m m e n t a r y , even if it requires extension i n t o fantasy or l i m i t a t i o n to a m i n i n g t o w n , makes t h e m more satisfactory novels. B u t the plethora of m o r a l issues

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categories, for she divides the men she mects i n t o stooges, duds, middles, tops, and smashers, in ascending order of approval. She is p r o u d of her a b i l i t y to spot a stooge instantaneously. T h e t w o early novels also demonstrate an i n v o l v e d comedy of i n c i dent w h i c h is, on the whole, absent f r o m the t w o later books. L o n g , i n v o l v e d episodes, such as Jim's cigarette b u r n i n g the bedclothes at the Welches' and his f r a n t i c efforts to hide his erime, or John Lewis' i n v o l v e d misadventures w h i l e masqueradi n g as a p l u m b e r in Elizabeth's house, do n o t take place in the t w o later books. A m i s ' h u m o r has become increasingly less farcical and more verbal and imagistic.

in the t w o more recent novels makes their abnegation in favor

T h e disappearance of farce f r o m A m i s ' w o r l d is conneeted

of adjustment seem n o t o n l y an example of comic acceptance

w i t h the gradual disappearance of A m i s ' comic t r a d e - m a r k : the

b u t an i n d i c a t i o n of the novelist's t a k i n g too easy a w a y o u t .

b u m b l i n g , self-conscious hero w h o stumbles against the estab-

T h e material itself demands a more c o m m i t t e d resolution.

lished social and c u l t u r a l w o r l d , m a k i n g f u n of b o t h the w o r l d

The difference i n p o i n t o f v i ew between A m i s ' early novels and his more recent ones is also apparent in his use of different comic techniques. In the first t w o novels, f o r example, characters often explain the motives of others in a f a i r l y s t r a i g h t f o r w a r d w a y . J o h n Lewis, at first, attributes Elizabeth's interest in h i m to her money and her desire to parade i t . A n d J i m D i x o n indulges in some f r a n k , and d a m n i n g , accounts of the Welches' motives. Y e t this k i n d of speculation is absent or comically modified in the later books. In Take a Girl Like You, Patrick replaces the direct account of others' motives w i t h generalized, pseudological categories. For example, w h e n he fails to seduce Jenny, he reasons that

and himself in the process. Each successive hero is more c o m petent, less afraid of p e t t y officials, more able to d r i v e a car or seduce a w o m a n , more i n c o n t r o l o f the w o r l d around h i m . A n d , as the hero bumbles less, the opportunities for farce and comic i n c i d e n t decrease. In a d d i t i o n , less of each successive novel is filtered t h r o u g h

the perception of the hero.

Take a Girl Like

You does not even have a single hero, f o r b o t h P a t r i c k and Jenny are equally central. As the heroes become less an essential perspect i v e f o r the novel, as the comedy consequently becomes more direct, the novels themselves become flatter and more l i k e a series of scattered comic images and verbal jokes. W h i l e A m i s retains his a b i l i t y to d r a w q u i c k , scathing portraits of m i n ö r characters and his f a c i l i t y w i t h c o m i c a l l y incongruous specific

he was now in a position to codify as an axiom the fact that willingness to be impressed was inversely correlated with willingness to be assaulted. Another such axiom, perhaps axiom I, said that to have frank lechery inspired in oneself bore no correlation whatever to the lechery coefficient, frank or other, of the inspirer. [Pp. 79-80.]

references, he seems to have lost the essentially comic conception of the antihero b u m b l i n g t h r o u g h society. Take a Girl Like You, w i t h o u t the o p p o r t u n i t y f o r farce and w i t h o u t the c e n t r a l l y comic conception of the antihero, is t w o dimensions less f u n n y than

Lucky

Jim.

Y e t , despite this d i m i n u t i o n o f comic dimension, m u c h o f

Patrick f r e q u e n t l y develops axioms, categories, coefficients, m o c k -

A m i s ' comic w o r l d remains r e m a r k a b l y consistent. A l m o s t every

logical devices in order to explain experience. Jenny also uses

novel contains at least one l o n g conversation between the hero

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and a c h i l d , a conversation f u l l of i m p r o b a b i l i t y and non sequitur, as the one in w h i c h Garnet Bowen is plagued by his son w h o wants t o k n o w whether o r n o t t w o tigers could effectively demolish a whale. M o r e i m p o r t a n t , ali the p r i n c i p a l characters make faces. J i m D i x o n keeps a b a t t e r y of practiced faces ready f o r appropriate occasions: his M a r t i a n - i n v a d e r face, his Eskimo face, his E d i t h S i t w e l l face, his l e m o n - s u c k i n g face, his sex-lifein-ancient-Rome face. J o h n Lewis often copies faces f r o m A m e r ­ ican films and he is p r o u d of his a b i l i t y to look calm and abovei t - a l l or m a t u r e and distinguished or solid and responsible at any given m o m e n t . Jenny B u n n , in Take a Girl Like You, has a whole series of looks, sorted o u t and catalogued, to discourage the wolfish glances she gets f r o m men in restaurants and on buses. P a t r i c k Standish and D i c k T h o m p s o n also make faces to represent the roles they w o u l d l i k e to play. P a t r i c k , w h e n t o l d off by one of his superiors, tries to look " l i k e the k i n d of busc o m p a n y official w h o is k e p t in reserve to announce delays, changes of b o a r d i n g - p o i n t and suspension of services."

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chance you had of playing it again. Doing what you wanted to do was the only training, and the only preliminary, needed for doing more of what you wanted to do. [Lucky Jim, p. 149.] As Jim's favorite role consists in d o i n g w h a t he wants to do, and he is s t u m b l i n g against the w o r l d he lives i n , Lucky Jim ends in fantasy, in an improbable justification of Jim's r o m a n t i c i z e d wishes. B u t the other novels, if less r o m a n t i c , are no less c o n cerned w i t h roles. In That Uncertain Feeling, John Lewis, at the p o i n t where he t h i n k s he can manage to keep Elizabeth and ali she represents, also plays his f a v o r i t e role: I sat there in an easy posture, my arm along the back of the thing some inches from her shoulders, my head lolling comfortably. I was now being the man used to the company of attractive women, the man who accepts without dramatics whatever experience may come his way, but who never strives for anything beyond the bounds of expediency or of self-possession. [P. 115-] B u t J o h n cannot sustain his role; he soon trembles and t h e n

A l o n g w i t h the faces, A m i s ' characters also deliberately play

moves away. In Take a Girl Like You, A n n a le Page has mas-

roles in a k i n d of comic masquerade. John Lewis parodies E l i z a -

queraded as French t h r o u g h o u t the novel as a means of e x p l a i n -

beth's manner and talks of his whole set of roles, ready at any

i n g her all-consuming interest in sex, her objections to English

given time. In Take a Girl Like You, Pa t r i ck exuberantly plays

society, her worship of art. F i n a l l y revealed as English, A n n a

the role of an e x p o r t - i m p o r t m a n in order to impress his expen-

explains: " P l a y i n g a part's the o n l y t h i n g l e f t these days, it shows

sive w o m a n i n L o n d o n :

y o u w o n ' t deal w i t h society i n the w a y i t wants y o u t o " ( p . 3 0 2 ) . A n d A n n a , unable t o deal w i t h society a t ali outside her

"No," he said, preparing to enjoy himself. "I'm to do with export and import. Chemical fertilisers. Disinfectants. Pest sprays. Sheep dip. Cattle dip. Goat dip. Horse dip. Pig dip. Donkey dip. Mule dip. Camel dip. Elephant dip. Llama dip. Buffalo dip." [Pp. 221-222.]

role, m u s t move somewhere else at the end of the novel. T h e role is, on one hand, a comic game; at the same t i m e , as a semicomic f a b r i c a t i o n , it is the o n l y means t h r o u g h w h i c h the i n d i v i d u a l , t h a t ill-assorted mess of chaotic impulses, can represent himself, deal w i t h his w o r l d , and get the most he can f r o m i t .

B u t the roles are more t h a n material f o r parody. T h e y illustrate

In A m i s ' novels no i n d i v i d u a l is free f r o m the incessant aware-

the perspective, the v i ew of man's position in the w o r l d , t h a t

ness of disparate and incongruous experience, as no experience

runs t h r o u g h ali A m i s ' novels. J i m D i x o n , w i t h his a r m around

itself is free f r o m verbal i n t e r r u p t i o n or c o n t r a d i c t i o n . In order

Christine, is able to say: More than ever he felt secure: here he was, quite able to fulfil his role, and, as with other roles, the longer you played it the better

to t r y to s i m p l i f y and manage the experience, m a n needs to establish roles, to i n v e n t disguises. T h e roles are more or less successful, depending u p o n h o w f u l l y they can account f o r the

46

K I N G S L E Y

AMIS'

F U N N Y

KıNGSLEY

N O V E L S

m u l t i p l e facts of experience, h o w w e l l they can aid the char­ acter in g e t t i n g w h a t he wants. T h e value of the role is judged p r a g m a t i c a l l y . B u t the role, by its v e r y nature, by the i n c o n -

AMIS'

F U N N Y

NOVELS

47

back round the room, cali for a toast to the North Korean Foreign Minister or Comrade Malenkov? [That Uncertain Feeling, p. 4 7 . ]

g r u i t y between role and whatever chaotic i n d i v i d u a l t h a t role is designed to represent, cannot become an abstraction or a t r u t h

In the t w o most recent novels, adherence to the L a b o u r p a r t y

in itself. Roles must change; they must c o n t i n u a l l y be k n o c k e d

gradually becomes more respectable. P a t r i c k has no need either

d o w n and set up again. M a n , in his pragmatic alternation of

to conceal or parade his L a b o u r sympathies, b u t he does object

roles, is existential, f o r the sane m a n does n o t allow any of his

to the lack of u r b a n i t y and assurance in some of the "stooges,"

roles to become abstract manifestations of general t r u t h or

like D i c k Thompson, w h o j o i n h i m at the local Labour club.

guides to conduct. Existence is the o n l y necessary c o n d i t i o n ,

T h e role of using Labour sympathies as a weapon against genteel

and the o p p o r t u n i s t i c hero plays any role he can in any w o r l d

society changes as the pragmatic value of the role declines.

he can (the fantastic, the l i m i t e d , or the deceitful) in order to

A l i A m i s ' heroes, however, are iconoclastic. A s J i m D i x o n

get w h a t he simply happens to w a n t . A m i s does n o t f u n d a m e n -

punctures the f o l l y of recorder revivals and m y t h s about " M e r r i e

t a l l y c o m m i t himself in his novels. He does n o t choose among

E n g l a n d , " so John Lewis is scathing about p h o n y revivals of

roles, even on the l i m i t e d and existential basis used by m a n y of

Welsh poetry and about a r t y , self-conscious attempts to live in

his contemporaries f o r p a r t i a l choices. H i s failure to choose, his

another society. Garnet Bowen in I Like İt Here, mocks the k i n d

willingness to provide something close to equal stature f o r ali

of reviewer w h o demonstrates his cosmopolitan knowledge by

experience,

w r i t i n g phrases l i k e : " M r . Shagbag has caught to perfection the

indicates b o t h a central acceptance of the w o r l d around h i m and

atmosphere of those precipitous l i t t l e streets t h a t r u n up f r o m

a p u r e l y comic perspective.

the Rua L a t r i n a to the Palazzo del . . . A l l e g r o n o n T r o p p o "

the

separate

facts

of

incongruous

contemporary

T h e central acceptance of the w o r l d and the p u r e l y comic perspective m a y also be demonstrated by A m i s ' t r e a t m e nt of social and p o l i t i c a l issues. Specific references to contemporary issues c r o w d ali the novels and provide m a n y of the comic and incongruous details. A l i the heroes, for example, support the L a b o u r p a r t y and the W e l f a r e State. Y e t this support is less a consistent p o l i t i c a l or social allegiance t h a n an i n s t r u m e n t used to p u n c t u r e the pretense and g e n t i l i t y of others or to conceal the hero's o w n social embarrassment. J i m D i x o n , John Lewis, and Garnet Bowen equate their support of the L a b o u r p a r t y w i t h behaving badly, shocking others, and m a k i n g nuisances of t h e m ­ selves at c o c k t a i l parties. John Lewis, surveying the r o o m at a p a r t y , wonders: Should I break in in a renewed effort to be marked down as "im­ possible," bawl a defence of the Welfare State, start undressing myself or the dentist's mistress, give the dentist a lovely piggy-

( p p . 3 0 - 3 1 ) . P a t r i c k Standish derides the woman's magazine side of Jenny: her domesticity, her interest in neat flower arrangements, her enthusiasm for intercsting Yugoslav recipes. Behind ali these iconoclastic comments is the i m p l i c i t and simple statement t h a t " L i f e isn't like t h a t . " A m i s ' heroes deride the f o r e i g n , the complex, the pretentious, b u t n o t f r o m any p a r t i c ular p o l i t i c a l or social p o i n t of v i e w . Even the Standard of the simple m a n of c o m m o n sense is never allowed to become an articulate p o i n t of view. Garnet Bowen mocks the possibility of this in / Like İt Here: " I t w o u l d be unendurable if they ali t u r n e d o u t to be f u l l of instinctive wisdom and natural good manners and unself-conscious grace and

a deep, inarticulate

u n d e r s t a n d i ng o f death" ( p p . 6 1 - 6 2 ) . T h i s iconoclasm i s e v i dence of the incongruities of the comic perspective, rather t h a n an i n s t r u m e n t s t e m m i n g f r o m a pa rt i cul ar social or p o l i t i c a l theme.

48

KINGSLEY

AMİS'

FUNNY

NOVELS

O t h e r social and p o l i t i c a l issues f r e q u e n t l y appear in A m i s ' books. O f t e n the satire against the a r t y and the forei gn develops

KINGSLEY

AMİS'

FUNNY

NOVELS

49

middle classes. Feelings about nationalism, one w a y or another, also provide material f o r A m i s ' comic debates.

f r o m a k i n d of English nationalism, n o t the nationalism of fifes

The aristocrat, in A m i s ' w o r l d , is seldom deceitful, pretentious,

and drums along the I r r a w a d d y i n the K i p l i n g t r a d i t i o n , b u t

or c o r r u p t . G o r e - U r q u h a r t , the hyphenated f a i r y godfather of

t h a t of someone s t i c k i n g to w h a t he k n o w s and feels c o m f o r t -

Lucky Jim; W u l f s t a n Strether, the craggy novelist in I Like It

able about. On these grounds, J o h n Lewis berates p h o n y Welsh

Here; and L o r d and L a d y Edgerstoune, the honest and admirable

poets and Garnet B o w e n is apprehensive about travel abroad.

couple in Take a Girl Like You, are ali representatives of a vener-

B o w e n , even w h e n he returns f r o m P o r t u g a l , says:

able aristocracy, above the n i g g l i n g pettiness of the lives around

it's a very nice-looking place ali round and if you exclude the Government and the upper classes the people are as decent as you'd find anywhere. it's just that the place is located abroad and the people are foreigners, which for the purposes of this discussion means that they and I belong to different nations, so we can't understand each other or get to know each other as well as chaps from the same nation can. I ' m ali for international co-operation and friendship and the rest of i t , but let's be clear what we mean by i t . [I Like It Here, pp. 205-206.] A n d he later adds:

t h e m . T h e y never need roles or subterfuge in order to operate successfully in their tvorlds. L u c k i e r t h a n most people, these characters also demonstrate a k i n d of respect for the aristocracy w h i c h helps to counterbalance the socialist and leveling attitudes often exhibited by A m i s ' heroes. The Labour p a r t y , as p a r t y , m a y be preferable to the T o r y , b u t the social and p o l i t i c a l attitudes of A m i s ' characters are essentially conservative, essentially a comic and tolerant acceptance of the power structure of the contemporary w o r l d . T h e comic acceptance of the contemporary scene, along w i t h the verbal texture of incongruous image and reference, provides

London was looking f u l l of good stuff. Admittedly i t , together w i t h most of the rest of the United Kingdom, was the land of Sorry-sir (sorry sir bar's closed sir, sorry sir no change sir, sorry sir too late for lunch sir, sorry sir residents only si r), but one couldn't expect to w i n ali the time. [P. 207.]

whatever u n i t y exists i n A m i s ' f i c t i o n . Social and m o r a l references abound because m a n deals w i t h social and m o r a l facts c o n t i n u o u s l y , b u t the facts, assiduously k e p t apart whenever too vast a generalization or abstraction threatens, remain separate and incongruous. Comedy w e l l conveys the m u l t i p l e facts, the

Y e t , despite ali this modified veneration f o r E n g l a n d , Bowen does

l a ck o f order o r system, w h i c h c o n f r o n t c o n t e m p o r a r y m a n .

learn a good deal in P o r t u g a l . He realizes t h a t t r i p s abroad c o n -

A m i s ' novels reflect this c o n d i t i o n , b u t too o f t e n t hey provide

t a i n more t h a n p h o n y searches f o r atmosphere, and he greatly

no c o m m e n t on i t . T h e y t h r u s t ali possible c o m m e n t, by the

extends the range of the w o r l d he can c o n t r o l . John Lewis m a y

i n t e r r u p t i o n of incongruous image, back i n t o the mass of separate

berate the Welsh f r o m a contemporary English p o i n t of v i e w ,

facts t h a t f o r m the comic perspective. In the t w o most recent

b u t he also, and just as v o l u b l y , blasts the casual materialism in

novels, m a n simply makes his w a y as best he can; ali c o m m e n t

contemporary English society. J i m D i x o n tries t o p u n c t u r e

or j u d g m e n t is scrupulously avoided. T h e purest comedy, the

nationalistic m y t h s wherever he finds t h e m . A n d even simple,

complete insistence on the separate q u a l i t y of ali facts and ex-

unpretentious nationalism becomes a silly and h i g h l y vulnerable

periences, is also irresponsibility. A n d this pure comedy, unshaped

provincialism in Take a Girl Like You, for Jenny B u n n is made

and u n c o m m i t t e d , s i m p l y reflects w h a t is, a simple reflection

to look ridiculous w h e n she repeats her l i t t l e English saws about

t h a t explains a certain flatness in I Like It Here and Take a Girl

the French, or foreigners in general, or the virtues of the English

Like You. In Lucky Jim and That

Uncertain Feeling, novels w i t h

5o

K I N G S L E Y

AMIS'

F U N N Y

N O V E L S

some h i n t of a central force of c o m m e n t about the w o r l d , the comedy is b o t h more r i c h and less pure. T h e farce and the cent r a l concept add comic dimensions. B o t h novels center on a hero, n o t an embodiment of ali value, b u t a protagonist whose perceptions and experience shape a m e a n i n g f u l k i n d of statement. J i m D i x o n blunders against a w o r l d of pretense and cannot make his w a y t h r o u g h i t . T h a t the issues are resolved in a r o m a n t i c fantasy falsifies the representation of the w o r l d b u t preserves the energy and the meaning of Jim's c o m m e n t a r y . John Lewis is n o t so l u c k y as J i m . John tries to c o n t r o l experience in a w o r l d larger and more complex t h a n the one he came f r o m . He fails and retreats; he wa n t ed success among the m u l t i p l e levels of jobs and art and allegiances in A b e r d a r c y , b u t he can o n l y operate within

the

rigid

nonconformism

of

the

mining

town.

Anger as AfTirmalion

Yet,

despite his failure, he provides a prismatic comment on the w o r l d around h i m . T h i s central c o m m e n t, t h o u g h vulnerable itself, provides a perspective against w h i c h ali the i n c o n g r u i t y of experience can be seen. A n d the e n d i n g of the novel, l i m i t e d , c onstricted, adequately represents John's

failure. That

Uncertain

Feeling is A m i s ' best, and least consoling, novel.

T H E ASSUMPTION T H A T O N E C A N N O T F U L L Y APPRECI-

ate the plays of Osborne, Wesker,

and other c o n t e m p o r a r y

B r i t i s h dramatists unless he has been p a r t of or has i n t i m a t e l y

Y e t A m i s ' enormous verbal f a c i l i t y marks ali f o u r novels.

k n o w n the specific society they present has f r e q u e n t l y appeared

The comic image, the specific and irrelevant reference, the

in reviews, criticisms, and comments about the plays. A l t h o u g h

frequent iconoclastic i n t e r r u p t i o n , and the verbal t e x t u re ali

the w o r k of Osborne and Wesker has been praised as an energetic

give each of the novels a certain a m ount of d i s t i n c t i o n . In addi-

antidote to a theater long dominated by ingenious productions

t i o n , the process of k n o c k i n g d o w n and setting up roles, of con-

of the classics or insipid l i t t l e comedies assuming t h a t manners

stantly showing the i n c o n g r u i t y between the role and the vague

have really n o t changed since 1 9 1 4 , the praise has centered on

and disparate reality it is supposed to reprcsent, is surely f u n n y .

the n o t i o n t h a t these new plays are sociological statements,

As A m i s himself has so often claimed, his p r i m a r y i n t e n t i o n is

presentations of h o w a heretofore neglected p a r t of B r i t i s h

to w r i t e f u n n y books. B u t this is n o t really enough. Good comedy

society lives and t h i n k s . B o t h Osborne and Wesker do set their

also requires the richness and the force t h a t derive f r o m some

plays in contemporary societies u n f a m i l i a r to M a y f a i r , b u t the

f o r m of c o m m i t m e n t or c o m m e n t a r y . The flatness of the pure

plays are essentially emotional and dramatic statements t h a t

and u n c o m m i t t e d comedy, its satisfaction w i t h simple reflection,

apply far beyond the realm of a p a r t i c u l a r t i m e and place. Os-

m a y often become repetitious and d u l l .

borne's

first

play to be produced, Look Back in Anger

(1956;

this date, and ali other dates given f o r plays in this chapter, are those of the first p r o d u c t i o n ) , is less a play about the rebellion of the educated y o u n g m a n of the lower classes against c u r r e n t society t h a n a play about w h a t it means to give and receive love.

52

ANGER

AS

ANGER

AFFIRMATION

AS

53

AFFIRMATION

J i m m y Porter does r a n t against bishops and " p o s h " Sunday

his shabby allegiance to and his cheapening of the old p a t r i o t i c

papers, against any f o r m of aristocratic g e n t i l i t y or pretense,

songs. H i s o l d father, a more genuine version of the t r a d i t i o n

b u t his invective is p a r t of a plea for h u m a n honesty and v i t a l i t y ,

w h o never has had to seli himself to the daughters of the nouveau

for people to live e m o t i o n a l l y as f u l l y and as deeply as they

riche f r o m B i r m i n g h a m in order to get money for a n e w p r o -

can. He m a y berate his w i f e f o r the genteel b a c k g r o u n d she

d u c t i o n , is n o w a greedy o l d m a n e m o t i o n a l l y insulated f r o m

cannot help; b u t he is really h u r t by her emotional n u l l i t y w h e n

everyone around h i m . Archie's talented son has spent six months

she ignores the illness of the o l d w o m a n w h o established t h e m

in j a i l as a conscientious objector; his untalented son, in the

in the sweet stall. W h e n Helena, J i m m y ' s mistress, leaves h i m

course of the play, dies a useless hero's death in the Suez c a m -

because his w i f e A l i s o n has ret urned, J i m m y , in his f r u s t r a t i o n ,

paign. Y e t these indications o f the passing o f o l d E n g l a n d , i m -

voices w h a t is b o t h the play's m a j ö r theme and its p r i n c i p a l

p o r t a n t as they are, are n o t the central stuff of the play. Rather,

i n d i c t m e n t o f society:

the play's center emerges in scenes such as the one in w h i c h Archie's battered w i f e spends the last of her t i n y savings to b u y

They ali want to escape from the pain of being alive. A n d , most of ali, from love. I always knew something like this would t u r n up—some problem, like an i l i wife—and it would be too much for those delicate, hot-house feelings of yours. It's no good trying to fool yourself about love. You can't fail into it like a soft job, without dirtying up your hands. It takes muscle and guts. A n d if you can't bear the thought of messing up your nice, clean soul, you'd better give up the whole idea of life, and become a saint. Because you'll never make it as a human being. It's either this world or the next. [Pp. 9 3 - 9 4 . ]

an ornate cake f o r her son's welcome home f r o m Suez

(she

doesn't yet k n o w t h a t he's been k i l l e d ) . W h i l e the cake is in the k i t c h e n , Archie's old father wanders in and, quite g r a t u itously and absent-mindedly, eats a large piece of i t . Archie's w i f e explodes in frustrated rage, w h i l e the o l d father o n l y d i m l y and u n c e r t a i n l y comprehends w h a t he has done. T h e scene, apart f r o m its sociological flavor, demonstrates h o w b l i n d people are, even those l i v i n g together in the same house for years, to w h a t matters to others. No one is to blame, ali the motives can be understood, b u t people just casually destroy one another day

B o t h Helena and A l i s o n understand w h a t J i m m y is saying, and

by day. T h e whole play is a fabric of similar emotional destruc-

they are able to love h i m , n o t because they agree w i t h his attacks

tions: A r c h i e and his w i f e , A r c h i e and his father, the father and

on religion or other forms of hardened and genteel abstractions

Archie's w i f e . C e r t a i n l y , ali these destructions are made more

in society, b u t because they recognize and u l t i m a t e l y respond to

m e a n i n g f u l and more poignant w i t h i n the terms of a dissolving

his h u m a n energy. T h e game of squirrels and bears w h i c h J i m m y

sociological e n t i t y . B u t the emotional destructions themselves

and A l i s o n play seems, at first, a t r i v i a l evasion of the c o m p l e x i -

f o r m the center of a play w i t h r a m i f î c a t i o n s far beyond the

ties f o u n d in any marriage. B u t at the end of the play the game

traditions o f music-hall comedy o r o f o l d E n g l a n d .

becomes a statement of the nature of h u m a n love—the w i l l i n g ness to immerse oneself completely in creatureness, to share the pain and the pleasure of the l i m i t e d animal. Osborne's The Entertainer ( 1 9 5 7 ) is also more a dramatic and

A r n o l d Wesker, another y o u n g dramatist, has w r i t e n a t r i l o g y (Chicken

Soup

with

Barley,

about Jerusalem, 1 9 6 0 )

1958;

Roots,

1959;

I'm

Talking

dealing w i t h a f a m i l y of Jewish-Com-

m u n i s t intellectuals and t r a c i n g their occupations and attitudes

emotional statement t h a n an analysis of the decline of the English

f r o m 1 9 3 6 t h r o u g h 1 9 5 9 . The plays are, i n p a r t , sociological

music-hall t r a d i t i o n . A r c h i e Rice, the f a d i n g and shoddy music -

documents, and scenes f r e q u e n t ly begin w i t h references to some

h a l l comic, does, in a w a y , represent the decline of E n g l a n d by

external historical fact relevant to the action: the 1 9 3 6 m a r c h i n g

ANGER

AS

AFFIRMATION

55

J4 A N G E R AS A F F I R M A T I O N o f Mosley's Fascists, the L a b o u r v i c t o r y o f 1 9 4 5 , G r o u p Captain

Ronnie seems his mother's son. Y e t , i r o n i c a l l y , Ronnie, o f t e n

Townsend's d i g n i f i e d exile in 1 9 5 5 , the Conservative sweep of

jobless and disillusioned, experiences his o n l y t r i u m p h , t h a t of

1 9 5 9 . Y e t the f a m i l y itself, the Kahns, and their relationships

Beatie Bryant's discovering herself

are even more significant t h a n are any of the social and p o l i t i c a l

witnesses or k n o w s a b o u t ) , when he follows his f ather's d i c t u m ,

(a t r i u m p h t h a t he never

definitions. T h e whole t r i l o g y is polarized by the opposing values

" Y o u can o n l y give t h e m some love and hope they'11 take i t . "

of the m o t h e r and the father. T h e mother, strong, active, a

Wesker never resolves the conflict between m i l i t a n t and l i m i t e d

m i l i t a n t leftist w i t h a v i t a l concern f o r others, keeps repeating,

h u m a n a c t i v i t y , as D o r i s Lessing never really resolves the c o n -

" Y o u ' v e got to care or y o u ' l l d i e . " T h e father, on the other hand,

flict between the p o l i t i c a l attitudes of t w o different generations

weaker, more bookish, a supposed r e v o l u t i o n a r y w h o sneaks off

which

to the movies or to his mother's f o r tea whenever any f o r m of

T h e conflicts s i m p l y m o t i v a t e the significant h u m a n action of

violence threatens, f r e q u e n t l y says, " Y o u can't alter people. Y o u

the plays.

underlies her

play,

Each

His

Own

Wilderness

(1958).

can o n l y give t h e m some love and hope they'11 take i t . " T h i s

Roots, the m i d d l e play of Wesker's t r i l o g y , does n o t deal d i -

contrast between the m i l i t a n t activist and the more passively

rectly w i t h the K a h n f a m i l y o r w i t h leftist politics a t a l i . I n

l i m i t e d applies to h u m a n relationships as w e l l as to politics. T h e

this play Beatie B r y a n t , engaged to Ronnie, returns for a visit

c h i l d r e n , a daughter A d a and a son Ronnie, neither as s i m p l y

to her

active or passive as their parents, shuttle f r o m one pole to the

Ronnie, t r y i n g to engage her l i m i t e d and complacent f a m i l y in

other. A d a begins as a y o u n g admirer of the gallant anti-Fascist

her n e w - f o u n d awareness of a w i d e r w o r l d of politics, art, and

forces i n Spain, b u t , after W o r l d W a r I I , l i m i t s her socialism t o

sensitivity. H e r efforts make l i t t l e impression on her f a m i l y ,

a personal a t t e m p t , along w i t h her husband, to make f u r n i t u r e

caught up in crops, losing jobs, f a m i l y feuds, and bad digestion.

family

of

Norfolk

farmers.

She

persistently

quotes

i n a f a r m i n g c o m m u n i t y i n N o r f o l k . Y e t the a t t e m p t i s n o t

In the last act, however, w h e n Ronnie j i l t s Beatie by letter and

entirely personal. I t carries a k i n d o f W i l l i a m M o r r i s attitude o f

does n o t arrive for his expected visit, the g i r l , i n a r g u i n g w i t h

social r e f o r m , and A d a o f t e n s t i l i feels the necessity to defend

her f a m i l y , suddenly discovers herself. In the m i d s t of a tirade

herself, to explain her position in terms of a larger w o r l d . Ronnie,

about w h y people l i k e her f a m i l y are an easy m a r k e t f o r the

less consistent t h a n his sister, alternates more f r e q u e n t l y between

t h i r d - r a t e and the commercial, Beatie suddenly realizes t h a t she

an a t t e m p t to convert others, to argue t h e m i n t o the realization

is no longer q u o t i n g Ronnie's convictions. She has become a

of a significantly w i d e r w o r l d , and an awareness t h a t h u m a n

person on her o w n , and yet Ronnie is, in p a r t , responsible. As

beings have o n l y l i t t l e and l i m i t e d i m p a c t on others. W h e n A d a

Beatie cares and fights and becomes more of a h u m a n being, the

and her husband are f i n a l l y defeated

l i t t l e b i t of love has taken.

( m o d e r n commerce has

made i t impossible f o r t h e m t o continue m a k i n g a l i v i n g b y

In Wesker's w o r k , as in Osborne's, the social or the p o l i t i c a l ,

t u r n i n g o u t f u r n i t u r e by h a n d at the N o r f o l k f a r m , and, besides,

the N o r f o l k f a r m or the r a l l y in T r a f a l g a r Square, is the vehicle

t h e y have made some serious mistakes), Ronnie is dejected. He

t h r o u g h w h i c h the emotionally

feels that a vision of something i m p o r t a n t , something better, is

effectively t r a n s m i t t e d .

and p e r m a n e n t l y h u m a n is

U n l i k e the proletarian plays of the

lost. W h e n Ada's husband b i t t e r l y replies t h a t visions never w o r k ,

' t h i r t i e s , in w h i c h the i n d i v i d u a l dramatized illustrated some

Ronnie answers: " T h e y d o w o r k ! A n d even i f they d o n ' t w o r k

general social or p o l i t i c a l t r u t h , these plays s i m p l y use p o l i t i c a l

then f o r God's sake let's t r y and behave as t h o u g h they d o —

or social details to illustrate points about individuals. I'm Talking

(I'm Talking about Jerusalem, p . 7 6 ) .

about Jerusalem, the last play in Wesker's t r i l o g y , does n o t depict

or else n o t h i n g w i l l w o r k "

56

ANGER

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ANGER

the failure of a social ideal. Rather, the p l a y presents the failure

AS

AFFIRMATION

57

a g r i m y Manchester flat w i t h a shared b a t h r o o m and an excellent

of t w o i n d i v i d u a l s , of A d a and her husband, to shape t h e i r lives

v i e w of the gasworks. Jo, an adolescent g i r l , and her mother have

i n terms o f the W i l l i a m M o r r i s k i n d o f ideal. T h e abstract t r u t h

just moved i n t o the flat. Jo's mother, w h o has made a career o u t

or falsity of the ideal is irrelevant. Social ideals are s i m p l y one

o f the various m e n i n her life, goes off t o m a r r y a brassy,

of the ways t h r o u g h w h i c h people find or lose, discover or betray,

d r u n k e n , loutish m a n , the o n l y one she can get. Jo, left alone,

themselves.

falls in love w i t h a colored sailor w h o is on leave, sleeps w i t h

And

Ada

and

her husband,

though

apparently

defeated, have discovered w h a t they care about and w h a t they

h i m , becomes pregnant, and then is helped t h r o u g h her p r e g -

can do. Even J i m m y Porter's famous statement about causes, in

n a n c y by a y o u n g homosexual art student. T h e mother belatedly

Look Back in Anger, is as personally revealing as it is p o l i t i c a l l y

returns to help Jo, gets the art student to leave the flat, and is

pointed:

shocked to f i n d t h a t her g r a n d c h i l d m a y be black. T h e play

I suppose people of our generation aren't able to die for good causes any longer. Wc had ali that done for us, in the thirties and the forties, when we were stili kids. There aren't any good, brave causes left. If the big bang does come, and we ali get killed off, it won't be in aid of the old-fashioned, grand design. I t ' U just be for the Brave New-nothing-very-much-thank-you. About as pointless and inglorious as stepping in front of a bus. N o , there's nothing left for i t , me boy, but to let yourself be butchered by the women. [Pp. 8 4 - 8 $ . ] T h e statement expresses b o t h p o l i t i c a l skepticism and personal f r u s t r a t i o n . It is b o t h a comment on society and a w a y f o r J i m m y to express the anger c h u r n i n g w i t h i n h i m , an anger t h a t o r i g i nates i n his i n a b i l i t y to communicate w i t h others as f u l l y and m e a n i n g f u l l y as he feels. A n d , in a d d i t i o n , the last sentence of the passage defines the o n l y realm, as the whole p l a y illustrates, i n w h i c h c o m m u n i c a t i o n can b e m e a n i n g f u l o r i m p o r t a n t . I n part, a vast and complex w o r l d has made specific and l i m i t e d c o m m u n i c a t i o n the o n l y k i n d possible f o r m a n . B u t , i n p a r t also, J i m m y Porter is the k i n d of person w h o needs the specific anchor

contains elements of u r b a n p o v e r t y , the color bar, the ease of m o v i n g in and o u t of bed among the lower classes. Y e t a l i these are carefully understated; they are made to seem quite an o r d i n a r y p a r t of h u m a n experience rather than a b u r n i n g issue or a sociological observation. T h e play is really about love, about Jo's experience w i t h sevcral different kinds of love: the feeling, created p r i m a r i l y o u t of loneliness, f o r the colored boy she sleeps w i t h ; the comfortable domestic love and concern the art student gives her; the f i n a l awareness t h a t , despite her mother's i n c o n sistency and irresponsibility w h i c h have led to a t h o r o u g h skepticism about the virtues o f f a m i l y life, Jo w i l l n o w have a c h i l d w h o m she can genuinely care for. The play is almost e n t i r e ly free f r o m s e n t i m e n t a l i t y ; Jo's search for love and security is conveyed t h r o u g h a series of direct and simple observations of w h a t goes on around her. T h e social e n v i r o n m e n t provides the material f o r most of the observations, the terms t h r o u g h w h i c h Jo discovers something about people and about love. B u t any note of strident social consciousness, or any cali f o r the amelior a t i o n of the social evils t h a t f o r m the b a c k g r o u n d of the play,

and the intensity t h a t o n l y a relationship w i t h an i n d i v i d u a l can

is completely absent f r o m the theme and the texture of A Taste

provide. Causes are, and always were, too abstract f o r people

of Honey. Jo, l i k e m a n y others in e n t i r e ly different situations,

l i k e J i m m y . A n d one need n o t k n o w the Midlands o r the history of the I n t e r n a t i o n a l Brigade in Spain to recognize t h a t .

finds experience beset w i t h difficult problems, and f i n a l l y w o r k s things o u t w i t h help f r o m u n l i k e l y and unpredictable sources.

A n o t h e r contemporary play t h a t uses social terms in order

C o n t e m p o r a r y B r i t i s h dramatists do n o t seem to be fashioning,

to p o r t r a y a more personal and universal theme is Shelagh

either i m p l i c i t l y or e x p l i c i t l y , any c r y for r e f o r m . Miss Delaney

( 1 9 5 8 ) . A Taste of Honey is set i n

never protests, as such, against the conditions t h a t have landed

Delaney's A Taste of Honey

58

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ANGER

AS

AFFIRMATION

59

Jo in the spot she is i n . Even J i m m y Porter indulges in a few

and commonplace as these people are, George takes advantage

sentimental reveries about the sunshine of E d w a r d i a n England,

of t h e m . He sponges money and food, seduces their silly daughter,

k n o w i n g t h a t it's gone and t h a t it was p a r t l y p h o n y , b u t strongly

plays upon the mother's feeling for their son w h o was k i l l e d in

attracted to it nonetheless. B o t h Helena and A l i s o n feel that he

the war. F i n a l l y , h a v i n g been unable to finish his great w o r k of

was b o r n o u t of his t i m e , t h a t he belongs to an earlier and more

art, George selis o u t . He begins to w r i t e trash to f o r m u l a f o r

heroic age. A n d Osborne himself creates a h i g h l y sympathetic

weekly repertory theaters and makes a good deal of money. T h e

p o r t r a i t of Alison's father, the I n d i a a r m y officer w h o was forced

f a m i l y , insensitive to his artistic betrayal, are delighted that

out of his f u n c t i o n and his w o r l d w h e n I n d i a became independ-

ali their notions of an artist and a gentleman have been so g r a n d l y

ent i n 1 9 4 7 . H e provides another version o f J i m m y ' s p r o b l e m ,

reinforced. Y e t George's success and the fact that the daughter

another m a n w i t h feelings and attachments and loyalties w h o

of the house has become pregnant force George i n t o m a r r y i n g

has trouble f i n d i n g a place to fasten t h e m . The retired I n d i a

the g i r l and becoming a permanent part of the f a m i l y . T h e artist,

officer, h u m a n as w e l l , deserves almost as m u c h sym pat hy as does

sullied by the material w o r l d , is locked together w i t h the d u l l

the displaced y o u n g man.

Si m i l a rl y, The Entertainer, izt

from

and the commonplace. Osborne's sym pat hy is about equally

advocating r e f o r m , expresses a good deal of s y m p a t h y f o r A r c h i e

d i v i d e d between the t w o . Respectable members of the lower

Rice's shoddy and i m p o t e n t B r i t a n n i a . At the end of the play

m i d d l e class, people w h o have always paid their o w n w a y , are

A r c h i e and his f a m i l y are offered a chance to make a new start

saddled w i t h a dishonest parasite they can o n l y d i m l y see t h r o u g h ;

in the hotel business in Canada. B u t A r c h i e is too m u c h a part

the artist is squelched by the u n i m a g i n a t i v e l i f e around h i m .

of E n g l a n d ever to leave, a feeling he can o n l y express in t i r ed

So people w o r k themselves i n t o relationships t h a t are essentially

cliches or in deliberately t r i v i a l statements like "one can't get

alien to w h a t they feel.

d r a u g h t Bass in Canada." It is left to his daughter Jean, the clear-sighted commentator t h r o u g h o u t the entire play, to make the final statement showing w h y E n g l a n d cannot desert itself: Here we are, we're alone in the universe, there's no God, it just seems that it ali began by something as simple as sunlight striking on a piece of rock. And here we are. We've only got ourselves. Somehow, we've just got to make a go of it. Wc've only ourselves. [P. 85.]

In some contemporary drama, the relationships and the structures man builds for himself do n o t provide satisfactory sanctuary f o r h u m a n emotions and impulses. A r c h i e Rice's music-hall E n g l a n d breaks d o w n , leaving h i m a t r i v i a l and defeatcd m a n . A n d George D i l l o n , n o w part o f the E l l i o t f a m i l y o f caricatures, has no longer any r o o m to express the genuine artisjfc impulses he began w i t h . Y e t other contemporary plays leave a wider area f o r amrmative h u m a n c o m m u n i c a t i o n . Bernard Kops, f o r example, has w r i t t e n t w o fantasies t h a t affirm the importance and

(1958;

the value of h u m a n existence. H i s first, The Hamlet of Stepney

this play was w r i t t e n some years earlier in collaboration w i t h

Green ( 1 9 5 8 ) , applies the H a m l e t legend t o the f a m i l y o f Sam

A n t h o n y C r e i g h t o n ) , also displays a good deal of sym pat hy for

L e v y , a p i c k l e d - h e r r i n g seller w h o lives in Stepney Green. The

the English life it satirizes. A y o u n g man, George D i l l o n , w h o

H a m l e t legend is reversed, for the ghost of Sam L e v y , after his

Another

Osborne

play,

Epitaph

for

George

Dillon

wishes to w r i t e great plays, is taken in by a lower middle-class

death, does n o t w a n t his son to avenge his k i l l i n g : " O h , well—•

f a m i l y . U n g r a t e f u l , George t h i n k s of the f a m i l y as a series of

listen—even if I was k i l l e d , I d o n ' t w a n t revenge for that,

caricatures, a group of people w h o speak o n l y in terms of ac-

whether I was poisoned, gassed, b u r n e d, or struck by l i g h t n i n g .

ç o u n t s and fads and the latest programs on television. Y e t , d u l l

I w a n t revenge f o r the w a y I l i v e d — f o r the self-deception,

6o

ANGER

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AFFIRMATION

the p e t t y lies and sdly quarrels" ( p . 1 3 0 ) . L e v y / H a m l e t ' s father's ghost rejoices in the marriage of Solly Segal/Claudius to Bessie / G c r t r u d e , enjoys his ghostlike travels around the historical L o n d o n t h a t he never had the chance to see d u r i n g his l i f e t i m e , and persuades his son to m a r r y the local Ophelia. A l t h o u g h the

AS

AFFIRMATION

t h a n the Ibsen w h o carefully probed

6l

sociological problems

c u r r e n t in his society. T h e fantasy is the dramatic vehicle, similar to other nonfantastic vehicles in the w o r k of Wesker, Osborne, and Shelagh Delaney, by w h i c h the dramatist c o m municates his affirmations to his audience.

play is i n c i d e n t a l l y f u l l of topical satire directed against c o n ­

The theme of c o m m u n i c a t i o n is d i r e c t l y relevant to the w o r k

t e m p o r a r y commerce, the reversal of the H a m l e t legend carries

o f H a r o l d Pinter. I n The Caretaker ( 1 9 6 0 ) , an o l d t r a m p lives

the m a j ö r theme. T h e ghost is f i n a l l y liberated because his

w i t h t w o strange brothers i n a b r o k e n - d o w n r o o m i n a n old

descendants have discovered h o w to enjoy and value l i f e , an

L o n d o n slum. The three characters rarely connect w i t h one an­

enjoyment t h a t Sam L e v y / H a m l e t ' s father never recognized while he l i v e d .

A n o t h e r play by Kops,

The Dreanı

of Yeter

other, in a manner somewhat reminiscent of Beckett's Waiting for Godot; they h o l d conversations as disjointed and incoherent

( 1 9 6 0 ) , is also dependent on a fantastic structure. T h e

as are the various impediments, a gas stove t h a t isn't connected,

play begins in a L o n d o n m a r k e t place, b u t Peter Mann's dream

a toaster t h a t doesn't w o r k , odd blankets and shoes and wooden

Mann

changes the m a r k e t place i n t o a shroud f a c t o r y w i t h a huge

planks t h a t c l u t t e r the r o o m itself. Each of the three characters

concrete shelter f r o m atomic weapons, and the people in the

is locked in his o w n w o r l d , surrounded by his o w n impediments,

dream become savages w h o w o u l d k i l i any outsider. The dream

and finds a great deal of d i f f i c u l t y in breaking t h r o u g h to any

is the result of Peter's desire to escape the m a r k e t place and make

other. The old t r a m p must t u r n sycophant, play each brother

a great deal of money prospecting f o r u r a n i u m . B u t , w h e n he

off against the other, in order to t r y to keep a roof, however

awakens f r o m this n i g h t m a r e , he recognizes the value and the

leaky, ö v e r his head. O n e brother had to have a l o b o t o m y , a

v i t a l i t y of the m a r k e t place itself. He also finds his t r u e love ( i n

deliberate p a r i n g d o w n of his m i n d and emotions, in order to be

the dream, he had t h o u g h t he loved an unresponsive p h a n t o m of

able to accept the f r a g m e n t a r y and incoherent w o r l d he f o u n d

a g i r l ) . At the end Peter recognizes t h a t one must b o t h live

around h i m . H e i s n o w content t o t a l k o f w o r k i n g w i t h his

and f i n d pleasure and emotional meaning w i t h i n his o w n e n v i -

hands, of decorating, of b u i l d i n g a shed, b u t he never completes

r o n m e n t . Kops does not, however, sentimentalize the people

any of the projects he so constantly talks about. The other

w h o r u n the m a r k e t stalls, f o r even at the end most of t h e m are

brother, w h o owns the r u n - d o w n house, kceps t a l k i n g of his

s t i l i p r i m a r i l y concerned w i t h chasing the phantoms o f wealth

ambitious plans as an entrepreneur, b u t he never does a n y t h i n g

and power, the phantoms that led Peter i n t o his dream in the

either. A l i three are locked togcther in m u t u a l f r u s t r a t i o n and

first place. T h i s play, like The Hamlet of Stepney Green, is f u l l

impotence. N o t h i n g they say is really m e a n i n g f u l or i m p o r t a n t ,

of songs and chants, and embroiders the fantasy w i t h touches

as even the E l e c t r o l u x does n o t produce any order or coherence

o f B r i t i s h musical comedy. A n d a l t h o u g h b o t h plays contain

in the r o o m . Y e t something of the private w o r l d of each does

satirical comments on c u r r e n t society ( m a n y of the songs, f o r

get across to the others by the end of the p l a y ; a few l i t t l e bits

example, parody l i t t l e materialistic cliches like ' T v e got to make

and pieces seem more m e a n i n g f u l than others in the midst of

a l i v i n g " or " M o n e y is t i m e and t i m e is m o n e y " ) , the fantasy

the f r a g m e n t a t i on of the whole dramatic w o r l d . T h e old t r a m p

t h a t directs a t t e n t i o n t o w a r d the value, no matter h o w l i m i t e d ,

finally asserts his desperate need for a place to stay.

of l i f e is the center of the play. These plays seem to show some influence of Ibsen's w o r k , b u t it is the Ibsen of Peer Gynt rather

I n another play b y Pinter, The Dııınb Waitcr

( 1 9 6 0 ) , two

thugs are w a i t i n g in a basement, c u t off f r o m the rest of the

62

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ANGER

w o r l d , for orders concerning the next k i l l i n g they're to c o m m i t . In the boredom of w a i t i n g one repeats ali the isolated facts in a

AS

AFFIRMATION

6}

t i o n w i t h a new French play, Tchin-Tchin, by F r a n ç o i s B i l l e t doux:

newspaper he's reading, w h i l e the other reminisces about f o o t -

dumb-waiter

The curtain falls on a note of true, hard-earned optimism, which I prefer to the facile pessimism of so much Left Bank writing. . . . M. Billetdoux is in his early thirties, and has plenty of time to lure the younger French playwrights out of the blind alley into which the Messrs. Beckett and Ionesco have beguiled them. To assert that ali communication between human beings is impossible is rather like putting on a strait jacket and then complaining about the impossibility of shaking hands. If I understand him rightly, M. Billetdoux is saying that communication is desperate and rare, always difficult and seldom total; but possible, with whatever qualifications; possible, ali the same.

shuttles back and f o r t h on ropes t h a t cannot accurately connect

[The New Yorker, Aug. i, 1959.]

ball games and happy crowds. No conversation ever really takes place between the t w o ; in fact, at times they simply go t h r o u g h a verbal r o u t i n e of question and answer w i t h o u t meaning. B u t characters in Pinter's w o r k , u n l i k e those in Beckett's, are never really completely isolated f r o m the w o r l d around t h e m . T h e basement contains a d u m b - w a i t e r leading up to an abandoned restaurant. A f t e r the thugs discover i t , they receive requests f o r various dishes and send back the few cakes or chocolate bars they happen to have. C o m m u n i c a t i o n exists in a w a y , b u t it is misunderstanding,

useless

and

impotent.

The

request and reply. In the same w a y , as the thugs w a i t f o r an order to beat up someone else, one of the thugs is himself beaten up. T h e lines that should connect things w i t h i n the w o r l d are somehow crossed. In b o t h plays the f r a g m e n t a ry details, the bits and pieces, are details f r o m lower-class L o n d o n l i f e . Y e t , as in the w o r k of other contemporary p l a y w r i g h t s , the k i n d of detail is far less significant t h a n is the lack of c o m m u n i c a t i o n the details illustrate.

T h i s passage m i g h t serve, in v a r y i n g degrees, for ali contemporary B r i t i s h p l a y w r i g h t s . A l t h o u g h c o m m u n i c a t i o n i n the plays of H a r o l d Pinter is far more rare and difficult that in the plays of A r n o l d Wesker, it is s t i l i sometimes possible; and, f u r thermore, i n d i v i d u a l and l i m i t e d c o m m u n i c a t i o n is the o n l y thing w o r t h having. T h e theme of c o m m u n i c a t i o n — i t s l i m i t a t i o n s and its i m p o r tance—is a constant h u m a n p r o b l e m . B u t contemporary B r i t i s h

Few c o n t e m p o r a ry B r i t i s h dramatists l i m i t c o m m u n i c a t i o n so

dramatists have given the p r o b l e m new force and strength, new

t h o r o u g h l y and severely as Pinter does. T h e i m p a c t of Ronnie

terms. T h e use of Jewish c u l t u r e in the w o r k of Wesker and

on Beatie B r y a n t in Koots, the k i n d of emotional force in a

Kops, Osborne's use of the English music-hall t r a d i t i o n , the

relationship w i t h a w o m a n t h a t J i m m y Porter is capable of, the

details spelling o u t the attitudes of the lower classes in the w o r k

relationship between the f ather's ghost and the son in The Hamlet

of Shelagh Delaney, Pinter, Osborne, and Wesker, are ali new

of Stepney Green, ali indicate f o r c e f u l l y that a l i m i t e d amount

terms f o r the B r i t i s h theater. T h e terms themselves do n o t f o r m

of m e a n i n g f u l c o m m u n i c a t i o n between h u m a n beings is possible.

the centers of the plays; these plays are n o t simply interesting

T h e t i m e , the place, the sociological e n v i r o n m e n t often help

sociological reports. B u t the newness and the sharpness of the

to define the l i m i t a t i o n , b u t the c o m m u n i c a t i o n , something gen-

terms do give the plays a sense of force and immediacy. In addi-

u i n e ly h u m a n in ali times and places, makes these plays active

t i o n , the p l a y w r i g h t s avoid the f a m i l i a r terms of the recent

and

the

past in the B r i t i s h theater, the genteel reticence of the M a y f a i r

drama c r i t i c w h o has so frequently praised the w o r k of Osborne,

significant

theatrical

experiences.

Kenneth

Tynan,

set, because the f a m i l i a r terms, by their very f a m i l i a r i t y , may

Wesker, Shelagh Delaney, and others, made the p o i n t in connec-

b l o c k the v i t a l c o m m u n i c a t i o n the p l a y w r i g h t wants to achieve.

64

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A s t o r m i n g J i m m y Porter or a p o l i t i c a l l y and personally baffled Ronnie K a h n m a y , by his theatrical uniqueness, illustrate a h u m a n i n t e n s i t y w h i c h a more t r a d i t i o n a l l y conceived character m i g h t f a i l to do. T h e play, an art f o r m more immediate and more emotional t h a n the novel, requires sharply incisive i l l u s t r a t i v e terms. T h e play also has less time t h a n the novel to

5

define issues cautiously, to shade qualifications, to deliver discursive essays. G i v e n the l i m i t a t i o n of t i m e and the necessity for immediate emotional contact w i t h an audience, the play needs the energy and the excitement of new terms, terms n o t saddled w i t h the vague preconceptions t h a t accrue w i t h constant repeti-

Doris Lessings Intense Commilment

t i o n . B u t the presentation of the terms, fascinating as they are, cannot be regarded as the p l a y w r i g h t ' s final aim. T h r o u g h the terms of the lower-class intellectual or the adolescent g i r l f r o m Manchester or the L o n d o n t r a m p , each of these w r i t e r s is dealing w i t h the perplexities of the h u m a n being, the creature not strong enough to stand alone and stronger than he needs to

AMONG

YOUNG

CONTEMPORARY

ENGLISH

WRITERS,

be t o f o l l o w mindlessly whatever mass rampage he sees around

D o r i s Lessing is the most intensely c o m m i t t e d to active persuasion

h i m . T h e i n d i v i d u a l needs to find out w h a t he is and where or

to r e f o r m society. In a series of loosely connected essays, e n t i t l e d

h o w he can connect w i t h w h a t is going on about h i m .

Going Home ( 1 9 5 7 ) , published after she had r e t u r n e d to her early home in B r i t i s h colonial A f r i c a f o r a v i s i t , Miss Lessing f r e q u e n t l y advocates direct p a r t i c i p a t i o n in p o l i t i c a l

action.

She talks o f the "sense o f d u t y " t h a t makes her j o i n organizations, defends ( o n biographical rather t h a n u l t i m a t e grounds) her o w n support of c o m m u n i s m , and ends her essays by u n f u r l i n g a qualified banner: In this book I have made various statements about the possibility of Communism becoming democratic. Since writing it the Soviet intervention in Hungary has occurred. It is hard to ma'ke adequate political assessments on notes added hastily to galley proofs as a book goes to press. But it seems to me that during the last three years the great words liberty, freedom and t r u t h have again become banners for men to fîght under—in ali the countries of the world. It seems to me wrong that so many people should be saddened and discouraged by this sudden violent crisis we are ali living through: it is a crisis in the battle of t r u t h against lies, of

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stories and novels. F r e q u e n t l y the theme of the w o r k is whether

nesses and never getting an answer back. That's socialism. I suppose it's progress. Why not? To every man his wife and two children and a chicken in the pot on Sundays. A beautif ul picture—I'd die for it. To every man his front door and his front door key. To each his own wilderness. [Pp. 50-51.]

or n o t , despite a hostile or indifferent society, strong c o m m i t -

The conflict between generations is n o t o n l y p o l i t i c a l , for T o n y ,

honesty against corruption, of respect for the goodness of people against cynicism. [Pp. 252—253.] Miss Lessing's interest in the battle permeates most of her short

m e n t to a p a r t i c u l a r cause or political doctrine is justifiable.

a h i g h l y Oedipal y o u n g m a n of t w e n t y - t w o , becomes furious

The issue of c o m m i t m e n t is most tersely stated in Miss Lessing's

whenever his liberated mother mentions one of her love affairs.

1 9 5 8 ) . The

He shrieks t h a t she lives " l i k e a p i g , " yet he w o u l d rather live

play, Each His Own Wilderness

(first presented i n

play presents a v i o l e n t conflict between mother and son. T h e

in her house t h a n find a flat on his o w n . S i m i l a r l y , the mother

son, T o n y B o l t o n , just discharged f r o m the a r m y , returns to his

finds T o n y a bore, a stupid "insufferable p r i g , " yet she is w i l l i n g

mother's L o n d o n home w h i l e she is preparing f o r one of her

to seli ali her possessions to provide h i m w i t h an allowance for

frequent rallies to champion w o r t h y causes. T o n y , whose first

self-discovery. T h e final exchange of the play summarizes b o t h

m e m o r y i s the b o m b that k i l l e d his father i n W o r l d W a r I I , i s

the p o l i t i c a l and the personal conflict, focuses on the issue of the

skeptical about causes and rallies, b i t t e r t h a t so m u c h of his

sort of c o m m i t m e n t a person o u g h t to make. T o n y ' s mother

mother's energy has been given to Spain and H u n g a r y and other

speaks

first:

w o r l d problems. In one argument he rails at his m o t h e r : " Y o u ' r e so d e l i g h t f u l l y old-fashioned. G e t t i n g k i l l e d for something y o u believe in is surely a b i t of a l u x u r y these days? Something y o u r generation enjoyed. N o w one just—gets k i l l e d " ( p . 1 5 ) . H i s contemporary, Rosemary, talks of six big men somewhere w h o could b l o w up the w o r l d any t i m e they wished, a concept t h a t renders ali protest against the H - b o m b useless. T o n y is no closer to his mother on the subject of domestic politics: Why are you sitting there looking so tortured? You've got what you wanted, haven't you? Well? You've spent your life fighting for socialism. There it is, socialism. You said you wanted material progress for the masses. God knows there is material progress. Hundreds of millions of people progressing in leaps and bounds towards a materially-progressive heaven. . . . Do you know what it is you've created, you and your lot? What a vision it is! A house for every family. Just imagine—two hundred million families— or is it four hundred million families? To every family a front door. Behind every front door, a family. A house full of clean, well-fed people, and not one of them ever understands one word anybody else says. Everybody a kind of wilderness surrounded by barbed wire shouting across the defences into the other wilder-

I'm nearly 50—and it's true there's nothing much to show for it. Except that I've never been afraid to take chances and make mistakes. I've never wanted security and safety and the walls of respectability—you damned little petty-bourgeois. My God, the irony of it—-that we should have given birth to a generation of little office boys and clerks and . . . little people who count their pensions before they're out of school . . . little petty bourgeois. [P-

94-]

A f t e r his mother leaves, T o n y turns to Rosemary to deliver the final lines of the p l a y : Rosemary, listen—never in the whole history of the world have people made a battle-cry out of being ordinary. Never. Supposing we ali said to the politicians—we refuse to be heroic. We refuse to be brave. We are bored with ali the noble gestures—what then, Rosemary? . . . Leave us alone, we'll say. Leave us alone to live. Just leave us alone. [P. 95.] Even t h o u g h T o n y is given the last speech, his p o i n t of v i ew is n o t t h a t of the author. T o n y is made too childish, too petulant, to represent a n y t h i n g more t h a n a contemporary phenomenon.

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Rather, the p l a y s i m p l y states, w i t h o u t resolving, different a t t i ­

minable b i c k e r i n g and its anxiety to remain a force w i t h i n a

tudes t o w a r d p o l i t i c a l and social c o m m i t m e n t .

hostile society, unable to do a n y t h i n g about colonial A f r i c a ' s

Some of Miss Lessing's novels, however, develop these issues

p r i n c i p a l p r o b l e m , the division between w h i t e and black. Y e t ,

a good deal f u r t h e r . T h e series of novels that deals w i t h M a r t h a

despite her m a n y mistakes, M a r t h a never retreats i n t o the i n d i f f e r -

Quest's g r o w i n g - u p (a sequence, as yet unfinished, w h i c h i n -

ent complacency or the assumption of eternal rightness w h i c h

cludes Martha Quest,

1952;

A Propcr Marriage,

Ripple from the Storm, 1 9 5 8 )

1954;

and

A

demonstrates a strong endorse-

she sees ali around her in colonial society. M a r t h a searches f o r herself and battles f o r w h a t she believes.

ment of the heroine w h o is anxious to change society, to w o r k

Julia Barr, the y o u n g heroine in Retreat t o Innocence ( 1 9 5 6 ) ,

actively for a more humane and just w o r l d . M a r t h a , the heroine,

represents a more complex treatment of Miss Lessing's k i n d of

encounters d i f f i c u l t y in a t t e m p t i n g , w i t h i n the severely restric-

c o m m i t m e n t . In ways, Julia, w h o frequents espresso coffeehouses

t i v e society of colonial A f r i c a , to define herself b o t h personally

and wears black sweaters, is l i k e T o n y B o l t o n . B o t h are products

and p o l i t i c a l l y . T h e books by H a v e l o c k Ellis she has read as an

of the new generation, b o r n in the m i d - ' t h i r t i e s to liberal and

adolescent do n o t square w i t h the attitudes t o w a r d sex she finds

aristocratic parents, handed educations

around her; the books about socialism and economics have l i t t l e

fight for, w a n t i n g o n l y to find some personal meaning to hang

their

mothers had

to

to do w i t h the p r o b l e m o f the color bar she sees every day. M a r -

on to. Julia, too, fights the parents she cannot break f r o m and

tha's books, her associations, her k i n d of perception, have ali

b i t t e r l y opposes w h a t she calls her parents' "messiness" about

helped to make her v e r y different f r o m her mother, the repre-

politics and sex. H e r desire f o r s t a b i l i t y and her wish to dis-

sentative of conventional colonial society. T h e conflict between mother and daughter begins early, and,

associate herself f r o m p o l i t i c a l issues seem priggish and selfish to her concerned father: "A more self-centred, selfish, m a t e r i -

l i k e the conflict between mother and son in Each His Own

alistic generation has never been b o r n i n t o this u n f o r t u n a t e o l d

Wildcrness, covers b o t h p o l i t i c a l and sexual issues. M a r t h a is

c o u n t r y . A H y o u w a n t i s t o c u l t i v a t e y o u r o w n gardens. Y o u

disgusted w i t h her mother's c o m b i n a t i o n of p u r i t y and calcula-

really d o n ' t give a d a m n f o r anyone b u t yourselves, do y o u ? "

t i o n about sex, her mother's V i c t o r i a n p r o p r i e t y and constant

( p . 1 9 5 ) . Julia, w h o offers less childish defenses for her attitudes

assumptions concerning the laziness and the dishonesty of ali

t h a n T o n y B o l t o n does, feels t h a t her parents' p o l i t i c a l concerns

A f r i c a n natives. H e r mother, on the other hand, finds M a r t h a

have kept t h e m f r o m understanding and appreciating h u m a n

blasphemous and i m m o r a l . B u t the t w o , like T o n y and his

beings. She recalls t h a t on a t r i p t h r o u g h Spain w i t h her mother,

mother, cannot s i m p l y ignore each other. Mrs. Quest, t h o u g h

after a peasant had mended a p u n c t u r e in their t i r e and they had

c o n t i n u a l l y rebuffed, keeps r e t u r n i n g to her daughter, t r y i n g

spent several hours t a l k i n g w i t h the peasant's f a m i l y , ali her

to help M a r t h a and give her unvvanted advice, as if the b i t t e r

m o t h e r could speak of was the need f o r "a sensible English t o w n

quarrels had never occurred. A n d M a r t h a , w h e n seriously i l i ,

C o u n c i l and a b i r t h c o n t r o l centre."

wonders w h y her mother has never really loved her. H e r emo­

Julia, u n l i k e T o n y B o l t o n , develops as the novel progresses.

t i o n a l attachment to her mother is deeper than t h a t to either

She falls in love w i t h a C o m m u n i s t refugee w r i t e r , Jan B r o d ,

of the t w o husbands she marries in unsuccessful attempts to

a m a n more than twice her age, l o n g since defined by p o l i t i c a l

discover herself.

forces Julia can barely comprehend. Julia, the p r o d u c t of a

M a r t h a , in her quest f o r values, joins the C o m m u n i s t p a r t y

w h o l l y different time and place, cannot share Jan's deep i n v o l v e -

early i n W o r l d W a r I I , b u t f i n d s the p a r t y , w i t h ali its i n t e r -

m e n t i n politics. B u t this i n v o l v e m e n t , this o v e r w h e l m i n g con-

yo

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71

cern, gives h i m an energy, a force, an a t t r a c t i o n t h a t Julia can-

spy service directed against radicals w h i c h belies his pose of

n o t f i n d in any of the agreeable and socially acceptable y o u n g

sardonic intelligence; more d i r e c t l y , he lies about Martha's close

men she knows. Julia argues w i t h Jan about politics, and makes

f r i e n d in order to cover up his failure to persuade her to lose

h i m acknowledge his awareness of ali the purges and iniquities

by abortion the c h i l d fathered by Maynard's dissolute son. Julia,

the Communists have created. Y e t she can also understand and

too, is betrayed by her father, the benevolent liberal and p a t r o n

feel the emotional force of Jan's u l t i m a t e defense of the C o m -

of the arts, l i v i n g on the income earned in the f a m i l y business

munists:

n o w managed by a "competent commercial person f r o m the

But don't you see, when people formed themselves together in the Party, for the first time in history, without God, without excuses, relying on themselves, saying: We accept the responsibility for what we do, we accept ali the good and the evil of the past, we reject nothing—then for the first time in history man became free; he became free because he rejected nothing. [Pp. 228-229.]

M i d l a n d s . " Julia asks her father to help secure B r i t i s h citizenship for Jan. H e r father promises b u t , after m a k i n g a casual i n q u i r y , refuses to push the m a t t e r f u r t h e r and retreats i n t o the shell of upper-class complacency, sure t h a t the government must k n o w w h a t it's doing, confident o f the j u d g m e n t o f the B r i t i s h H o m e Office. Julia's father's liberalism is h o l l o w , despite the appearance he gives of genuine concern. Even T o n y Bolton's mother, w h o had seemed fine and elegant and t r u l y solicitous of others,

Jan's defense stands as the a f ü r m a t i v e battle c r y in the novel.

s t u p i d l y wounds another person and betrays T o n y by selling

Jan himself, however, cannot remain in England, for the estab-

their house, his symbol of security and permanence. The liberals,

lished hypocrisy w i l l n o t g r a n t h i m citizenship. Julia i s n o t

the people w h o apparently manifest concern about social and

sufficiently converted to f o l l o w h i m back to central Europe, f o r

p o l i t i c a l problems w i t h o u t objecting to the fundamental society

the affair w i t h Jan is p a r t of her means of self-discovery. B u t

itself, and the aristocrats, those sustained and honored by the

she is able to realize t h a t her shelter and c o m f o r t have some-

society, stand revealed h o l d i n g shoddy or dishonest poses.

t h i n g h o l l o w about t h e m and t h a t in losing Jan she has lost more than she has gained. Julia, being herself, has no genuine alternat i v e . S t i l i , Miss Lessing makes it clear that Julia and her generat i o n are lesser beings t h a n their predecessors because they lack the energy and the purpose of a Jan B r o d . Miss Lessing's c o m m i t m e n t usually involves opposition to the r e i g n i n g precepts of English or A n g l o - c o l o n i a l society. B o t h Julia and M a r t h a Quest, despite their different p o l i t i c a l attitudes, are enormously attracted to an aristocrat, a representation of the society's model. M a r t h a is fascinated by M r . M a y n a r d , the magistrate w h o , although reactionary, maintains a steady and b i t i n g w i s d o m about A f r i c a . Julia is strongly d r a w n to her father, t h a t liberal, tolerant, stable representative of the basic English v i r t u e of fair play. Y e t , in b o t h instances, the aristocrat betrays the f a i t h placed in h i m . M r . M a y n a r d runs a v i g i l a n t

Y e t m a n y of Miss Lessing's heroines, disillusioned by their o w n societies, can find themselves t h r o u g h an older person denigrated by most of society. M a r t h a Quest, for example, has her first affair w i t h a Jewish orchestra leader m u c h older than herself, w h o is patronized w i t h sneers by most of her colonial friends. H i s very difference, the fact t h a t he cannot be defined in terms of the society, is p a r t of his a t t r a c t i o n for M a r t h a . S i m i l a r l y , the y o u n g actress in " T h e H a b i t of L o v i n g " (a story in a volume of the same t i t l e , published in 1 9 5 7 ) marries a m u c h older actor w h o cannot understand the contemporary q u a l i t y of her lostg a m i n r o u t i n e , w h o believes the theater should contain violent, bombastic gestures. T h e y o u n g actress requires d e f i n i t i o n o u t side the w o r l d by w h i c h she has been conditioned. Julia Barr, too, in l o v i n g Jan, has reached outside the society established for her, embraced the alien and the unexpected. W o m e n define

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LESSİNG'S

themselves t h r o u g h the sexual relationship, and Julia, M a r t h a , and others ali demonstrate their p a r t i a l or essential rejection of their o w n societies by affairs w i t h the ineligible and the u n e x pected. A n d conversely, in Miss Lessing's f i c t i o n , the aristocrats and the halfhearted liberals, those endorsed by the society, are apt to be w o r t h l i t t l e as men. D o r i s Lessing has consciously sought the socially rejected. W h e n she moved to E n g l a n d in 1 9 4 9 , her sense of social respons i b i l i t y and her distrust of those w h o sanction and are sanctioned

INTENSE

COMMITMENT

73

Two houses down on the opposite side lived an old man on the old-age pension, who was reading for the first time in his life. He was educating himself on the Thinker's Library. He had been a bricklayer, his wife was dead and he was now half-crazed w i t h loneliness and the necessity to communicate what he had so slowly and belatedly learned. He lingered on the pavement at the time people were coming home from work, made a few routine remarks about the weather, and then whispered confidentially: "There's no God. We aren't anything but apes. They don't teli the workingman in case we get out of hand." [P. 138.]

by the r e i g n i n g society led her to search for her values and f o r her l i t e r a r y material among the w o r k i n g classes in L o n d o n . As

B u t few of the Londoners described w o u l d provide so fertile

(In

material f o r a p o t e n t i al u p r i s i n g among the proletariat. In fact,

she herself explains in a recently published d o c u m e n t a r y Pursuit

of

the

English,

most of them become capitalists themselves vvhenever they get

1960):

the o p p o r t u n i t y . D a n , the head of the household, first began to I propose to admit, and voluntarily at that, that I have been thinking for some time of w r i t i n g a piece called: In Pursuit of the Working-Class. My life has been spent in pursuit. So has everyone's, of course. I chase love and fame ali the time. I have chased, off and on, and w i t h much greater deviousness of approach, the working-class and the English. The pursuit of the working-class is shared by everyone w i t h the faintest tint of social responsibility: some of the most indefatigable pursuers are working-class people. [Pp- ı 3-] 2

_

ı

acquire extra cash in the w a r w h e n he was personal servant to a surgeon commander and received tips f o r s q u i r i n g the c o m mander's mistress in and o u t of quarters. R i g h t after the w a r he stripped washbasins and baths f r o m bombed houses and sold t h e m . W i t h these t w o sources of income, he was able to b u y and f u r n i s h the house he n o w owns. An enterprising capitalist, D a n has solid hopes of increasing his holdings and becoming a f a i r l y w e a l t h y l a n d l o r d . T h o u g h able w i t h his hands and s k i l l f u l at remodeling f u r n i t u r e , D a n has no t h o u g h t whatever of e m u -

B u t the pursui t, as Miss Lessing describes it in her doc um e nt a ry,

lating W i l l i a m Morris.

d i d n o t uncover any u n a n i m i t y of repressed n o b i l i t y among the

Miss Lessing also shows the i n s u l a r i t y of these people. T h e y often hate the French and hate the Jews, and are aware of l i t t l e outside their o w n corners of L o n d o n :

L o n d o n proletariat. Miss Lessing reports her difficulties in f i n d i n g a place to l i v e , her encounters w i t h sharp operators and grasping landlords among the w o r k i n g classes. A poor clerk, Rose, f i n a l l y helps her get settled, and the landlords, D a n and Flo, i n v i t e her to vast spaghetti suppers and r o u n d up the f u r n i t u r e she needs. S t i l i , the same landlords are cruel t o an o l d couple in the house, w h o m they w a n t to evict, and neglect their o w n y o u n g daughter so badly t h a t authorities threaten to take the c h i l d to a state home. Some of the people Miss Lessing encounters do reinforce conventional ideas of a concerned and humane w o r k i n g class:

Flo's London did not even include the West End, since she had left the restaurant in Holborn. It was the basement she lived i n ; the shops she was registered at; and the cinema five minutes' walk away. She had never been inside a picture gallery, a theatre or a concert hail. Flo would say: "Let's go to the River one fine afternoon and take Oar." She had not seen the Thames, she said, since before the war. Rose had never been on the other side of the river. Once, when I took my son on a trip by river bus, Rose played w i t h the idea of coming too for a whole week. Finally she said:

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"I don't think I'd like those parts, not really. I like what I'm used to. But you go and teli me about it after." [İn Pursuit of the English, p. 104.]

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that her y o u n g m a n has been m a r r i e d before, and his attentions soon begin to wander t o w a r d a t h i r d w o m a n . T h e g i r l and the y o u n g man's fîrst w i f e , accepting the male's i n f î d e l i t y w i t h o u t scenes or recriminations, f i n a l l y agree to start a cakeshop in

These people have l i t t l e respect f o r B r i t i s h institutions and the

another basement and leave the y o u n g m a n to his newest m i s ­

justice of the l a w courts. In one of the funniest episodes in the

tress. T h e heroine does n o t search f o r romance or f o r passion;

book, the f a m i l y goes to c o u r t to evict the o l d tenants f r o m

she simply accepts conditions around her and tries to w o r k things

their house. In the antechamber their lawyer coaches t h e m to

o u t as safely and securely as she possibly can.

lie consistently, to make a coherent ease o u t of a l o n g history of

Rose, one of the central figures in İn Pursuit of the English,

m u t u a l grudges, c r u e l t y , and complaints about d i r t y bathrooms.

is m u c h the same k i n d of person. A h a r d l i fe has t a u g h t her to

T h e y w i n the ease o n l y because the o l d couple are even more

fend f o r herself, to value her d a i ly r o u n d , her d r o p of tea, her

incoherent and gratuitously f o u l - m o u t h e d t h a n they. B u t the

security. She, too, is skeptical about and indifferent to p o l i t i c a l

p o i n t of the scene is t h a t ali the parties—the f a m i l y , the o l d

parties or slogans. H e r view of p o l i t i c a l personalities has l i t t l e

couple, the lawyer, even the judge himself—make the whole

to do w i t h the polici?s or the programs the personalities sup-

n o t i o n of the supposed fair play of B r i t i s h courts seem ludicrous.

posedly represent:

T h e people f r o m the w o r k i n g class are simply less v e r b a l l y s k i l l f u l , less proficient in h a n d l i n g the forms, less sophisticated versions of their counterparts w h o compose the Establishment. No one is adequate to carry the banner f o r the r e v o l u t i o n . In p o r t r a y i n g the w o r k i n g class, Miss Lessing often uses w o m e n to present the argument in favor of r e s t r i c t i n g one's a c t i v i t y to the comfortable, the sheltered, the safe. In the short novel called " T h e O t h e r V o m a n " (one of a series of short novels p u b lished as Five i n 1 9 5 3 ) , a y o u n g working-class g i r l chooses t o break her engagenient w h e n her m o t h e r is k i l l e d by a l o r r y just before W o r l d W a r I I . She decides t o stay w i t h her father i n the basement they have always k n o w n , rejeeting any outside i n f l u ­ ence. She chides her father for w a s t i n g his t i m e at p o l i t i c a l meetings where n o t h i n g is ever accomplished, berates Parliament

Rose would listen to Churchill talk with a look of devotion I entirely misunderstood. She would emerge at the end of half an hour's fiery peroration with a dreamy and reminiscent smile, and say: "He makes me laugh. He's just a jealous fat man, I don't take any notice of him. Just like a girl he is, saying to a friend: No dear, you don't look nice in that dress, and the next thing is, he's wearing it himself." "Then why do you listen to him?" "Why should I care? He makes me remember the war, for one thing. I don't care what he says about Labour. I don't care who gets ın, I'll get a smack in the eye either way. When they come in saying Vote for Me, Vote for Me, I just laugh. But I like to hear Churchill speak, with his dirty V-Sign and everything, he enjoys himself, say what you like." [P. 1 2 1 . ]

periodically, and lumps H i t l e r , C h u r c h i l l , A t t l e e , Stalin, and

Rose also objects to the false film versions o f the C o c k n e y and

Roosevelt together as people w h o make her sick. H e r small

to any k i n d of slogan concerning brotherhood. Y e t she senti-

security is b l o w n up w h e n her father is k i l l e d in a b o m b i n g in

m e n t a l l y misses the w a r m t h and the comradeship of the war

the w a r . She elings to the demolished basement as l o n g as she

w h e n the usual class barriers were d o w n and people ali felt

can, u n t i l a k i n d y o u n g man almost carries her o u t by force.

eloser to one another. Rose's a t t i t u d e t o w a r d politics, l i k e t h a t

Once o u t of the basement, she can live w i t h the m a n quite easily,

of the heroine in " T h e O t h e r W o m a n , " is handled somewhat

e l i n g i n g to t h a t w h i c h is most readily available. She discovers

sympathetically because she's had a hard life, she's a w o m a n , and

j6

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LESSING'S

she's a member of the w o r k i n g class. Because of these, Miss Lessing can make Rose's insistence on her o w n n a r r o w w o r l d and her rejection of ali p o l i t i c a l questions b o t h f a i n t l y comic and sympathetic.

I N T E N S E

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77

or those nasty, bigoted, lonely colonial w o m e n on f a r m i n g o u t posts i n A f r i c a . Miss Lessing's c o m m i t m e n t to a sense of social responsibility and to a p u r s u i t of those oppressed by society also infuses her

People w i t h o u t Rose's w a r r a n t w h o s t i l i h o l d the same a t t i ­

fiction about colonial A f r i c a , where she spent most of her first

tudes receive m u c h more b i t i n g treatment. T h e younger genera­

t h i r t y years. I n A f r i c a the p u r s u i t centers o n the color bar, and,

t i o n has had a m u c h easier t i m e , and their choice in favor of

in ali Miss Lessing's fi c t i on dealing w i t h A f r i c a — h e r fi rst novel,

l i m i t i n g experience to the secure is made m u c h more selfish and

The Grass Is Singing

materialistic. In Retreat to Innocence, Julia is f r e q u e n t l y labeled

M a r t h a Quest; a v o l u m e of short stories called This W as the

as selfish, and the y o u n g C o c k n e y lad w h o tends the coffee bar

Old

is made to say:

collected as Five—the division between w h i t e and black is cen-

Chief's

Country

( ı ^ j o ) ; the three novels dealing w i t h (1951);

and

four

of

the

short

novels

t r a l . O f t e n , in Miss Lessing's fiction, the w h i t e m a n is an i n t e r -

My old man, he was a proper old Bolshie he was. I don't hold it against him, mind. They had it tough when he was young. And he was on to me when I was a nipper, giving me the Herald and ali that. I've been raised on William Morris and Keir Hardie and ali that lot. And I wouldn't say a word against them—grand old boys they were. But I says to my dad, I says, what's in it for me?

heavy oak V i c t o r i a n f u r n i t u r e , and brings up his c h i l d r e n as he

[P. m . ]

w o u l d i n E n g l a n d . T h e c h i l d , f r o m whose p o i n t o f v i e w the story

loper, a t t e m p t i n g to wrest independence or security f r o m the A f r i c a n soil or asserting himself in a colonial office established to govern the alien c o u n t r y . T h e w h i t e m a n carries his European c u l t u r e and attitudes w i t h h i m , preserves his religion and his

" T h e O l d C h i e f Mshlanga" i s t o l d , i s l i v i n g i n B r i t i s h A f r i c a : Y e t Miss Lessing treats the middle-class w o m a n of l i m i t e d and n o n p o l i t i c a l interests w i t h even more sharpness. W o r k i n g - c l a ss people have, at least, the excuse of a certain amount of economic and educational d e p r i v a t i o n . B u t the m i d d l e classes o f t e n receive no s y m p a t h y

whatsoever.

A middle-class

couple

spending

a

holiday abroad appear in "Pleasure" (another story in the v o l u m e called The Habit of Loving). T h e y o u n g couple are interested o n l y i n spear fishing, i n impressing their neighbors w i t h the fact t h a t they've been abroad, in j u s t i f y i n g e v c r y t h i n g English to themselves and to anyone else they happen to meet. N o t a shred of s y m p a t h y enters the one-dimensional characterization of the e m p t y couple in "Pleasure," and the w o m a n seems singled o u t to bear the b r u n t of Miss Lessing's disapproval. T h i s c o m ­ monplace middle-class w o m a n is treated w i t h a fierce c o n t e m p t , an a t t i t u d e far more s h r i l l t h a n any leveled against s t u p i d , materialistic Cockneys or p a t r o n i z i n g and deceptive aristocrats

This child could not see a msasa tree, or the thorn, for what they were. Her books held tales of alien fairies, her rivers ran slow and peaceful, and she knew the shape of the leaves of an ash or an oak, the names of the little creatures that lived in English streams, when the words "the veld" meant strangeness, though she could remcmber nothing else. Because of this, for many years, it was the veld that seemed unreal; the sun was a foreign sun, and the wind spoke a strange language. [This W as the Old Chief's Country, p. 8.] In m a n y of the stories the w h i t e settler's assertion of his i n h e r i t e d c u l t u r e is, in this new l a n d , his means of establishing his difference f r o m the black m e n ali a r o u n d h i m . Some of the w h i t e settlers, l i k e D i c k T u r n e r in The Grass Is Singing, have been failures in English society and have come to A f r i c a in order to reestablish themselves; others, l i k e the o l d farmer in " T h e De

yS

LESSING'S

I N T E N S E

C O M M I T M E N T

LESSING'S

ı N T E N S E

C O M M ı T M E N T

79

Wets Come to K l o o f Grange," are m o t i v a t e d by an urge to b r i n g

her sanity by discharging the boy, b u t she has been unable to

new l a n d i n t o c u l t i v a t i o n .

handle servants before and her husband insists t h a t she keep this

Most of Miss Lessing's alien w h i t e settlers, and their more

one. T h e conflict w i t h i n M a r y , the alternating love and hate

s h r i l l and insistent wives, regard themselves as sensitive, aware,

t o w a r d the N e g r o , the f r i g h t e n i n g awareness t h a t she possesses

and reponsible, and look at the blacks as happy, amoral, and

the one emotion her society most v i o l e n t l y condemns, leads to

irresponsible. In one story in This Was the Old Chief's Country,

her m u r d e r . She is destroyed by her i n a b i l i t y to reconcile a

a black w o m a n is missing and the clues s u r r o u n d i n g her disap­

h u m a n emotion w i t h her o w n deep c o m m i t m e n t t o the r i g i d

pearance p o i n t t o w a r d possible suicide. B u t the whites hesitate

line her society maintains between w h i t e and black.

to endorse this supposition: " L a t e r , we talked about the t h i n g ,

L i k e M a r y T u r n e r , m a n y of the colonials feel a deep fear,

saying h o w odd i t was t h a t natives should c o m m i t suicide; i t

a constant emotional apprehension about l i v i n g in A f r i c a . T h e y

seemed almost l i ke an impertinence, as if they were c l a i m i n g to

are aware t h a t they are interlopers, w h i t e aliens in a black w o r l d .

have the same delicate feelings as ours"

The l i t t l e g i r l i n " T h e O l d C h i e f M s h l a n g a " fears the isolation

( p . 7 3 ) . Farmers and

businessmen g r u m b l e about the useless and i g n o r a n t blacks as

of her whiteness as she walks t h r o u g h the brush to the native

re gul a rly as they discuss the crops, the weather, or the prospects

village. H e r w e a l t h y father can force the natives to move, b u t

of business; the w o m e n c o m p l a i n t h a t the household blacks are

he cannot c o n t r o l the mounds of m u d , the r o t t i n g t h a t c h , the

lazy, dishonest, f u l l y deserving of the cuffs they get, and then

tangled g r o w t h of p u m p k i n s , and the hordes of w h i t e ants w h i c h

wonde r w h y the blacks are n o t more grateful for their c i v i l i z ed

the natives leave behind them. A n d the g i r l is f r i g h t e n e d. Most

servants' jobs. In The Grass Is Singing, a successful n e i g h b o r i n g

often it is the w o m a n , l i ke the poor farmer's w i f e in " T h e Sec-

farmer helps D i c k T u r n e r , f o r w h o m he has l i t t l e love and less

o n d H u t , " o r the w e a l t h y farmer's w i f e i n " T h e D e Wets Come

respect: " H e was obeying the dictate of the first l a w of w h i t e

to K l o o f Grange," w h o feels this fear, this i n a b i l i t y of the w h i t e

South A f r i c a , w h i c h is: ' T h o u shalt n o t let y o u r f e l l o w whites

m a n t o c o n t r o l the black, lush g r o w t h around h i m , yet men,

sink lower t h a n a certain p o i n t ; because if y o u do, the nigger

too, sometimes have these moments of perception.

w i l l see he is as good as y o u are' " ( p . 2 2 1 ) . A n y k i n d of h u m a n

farmer in " 'Leopard' George," a m a n w h o has never m a r r i e d

The

able

relationship between w h i t e and black, w i t h i n the strictures of

because he t h o u g h t himself in perfect c o n t r o l ö v e r his native

this e n v i r o n m e n t , is impossible.

mistresses, is surprised w h e n a y o u n g , h i t h e r t o discreet mistress

The Grass Is Singing traces the h o r r o r t h a t can result f r o m a subterranean relationship between w h i t e and black w i t h i n colonial A f r i c a n society. M a r y , a t h i r t y i s h office w o r k e r in an A f r i c a n t o w n , marries as her last chance D i c k T u r n e r , the inept and inefficient farmer. G r a d u a l l y M a r y shrivels in the m i d s t of their f u t i l e battle to achieve security f r o m the l a n d . O n l y the N e g r o houseboy has the energy and the s k i l l to force Mary's a t t r a c t i o n , yet she, h a v i n g ahvays l i v e d in A f r i c a , is also repelled by the sight of h i m . She cannot bear to look h i m in the eye, fears even t a l k i n g to h i m , w h i l e she unconsciously reveres his competence, strength, and grace. M a r y w o u l d l i ke to preserve

embarrasses h i m i n f r o n t o f w h i t e guests: In that moment, while he stood following the direction of his servant's eyes w i t h his own, a change took place in h i m ; he was gazing at a towering tumbling heap of boulders that stood sharp and black against a high fresh blue, the young blue of an African morning, and it was as if that familiar and loved shaped moved back from him, reared menacingly like an animal and admitted danger—a sharp danger, capable of striking from a dark place that was a place of fear. Fear moved in George; it was something he had not before known. [This Was the Old Chief's Country, p.

209.]

8o

LESSİNG'S

INTENSE

LESSİNG' S

COMMITMENT

INTENSE

COMMITMENT

8l

T h e apprehension t h a t the sensitive w h i t e feels in A f r i c a is the

N e w e r settlers, in contrast, are l i k e l y to be more dedicated to

m a r k of his failure to impose himself and his standards c o m -

hard cash or to redeeming previous failures. The comparison

pletely on the dark, f e r t i l e c o n t i n e n t he inhabits. T h e fear is

between generations is n o t , however, always so one-sided. In

also, simultaneously, the sign of his o w n awareness in contrast to

" T h e De Wets Come to K l o o f Grange," the older generation m a y

his denser, more complacent f e l l o w colonials. M a r t h a Quest, the

have established a more comfortable and peaceful settlement,

perceptive heroine of A Proper Marriage, w h o has made a bad,

b u t the younger generation is more w i l l i n g to t r y to meet A f r i c a

hasty first marriage w i t h a y o u n g colonial, uses the black o f the

on its o w n grounds, to s w i m in its streams and t a l k to its natives. In another story, " O l d John's Place," the newer generation is

native as the image of her o w n awareness:

rootless, an example of those w h o use A f r i c a to f i n d a security There were moments that she felt she was strenuously held together by nothing more than an act of will. She was beginnıng to feel that this view of herself was an offence against what was deepest and most real in her. And again she thought of the simple women of the country, who might be women in peace, according to their instincts, without being made to think and disintegrate themselves into fragments. During those first few weeks of her marriage Martha was ahvays accompanied by that other black woman, like an invisible sister, simpler and wiser than herself; for no matter how much she reminded herself of statistics and prog[P. 8 5 . ] ress, she envied her from the bottom of her heart.

they have been unable to f i n d in Europe. Y e t in this story the older c o m m u n i t y , dogmatic, sure of itself and its m o r a l standards, can f i n d neither r o o m nor s y m p a t h y f o r the new, more m o r a l l y flexible i m m i g r a t i o n . In a few isolated instances the new"generat i o n can even, personally and t e m p o r a r i l y , break d o w n the color bar. In " T h e A n t h e a p , " one of the short novels in Five, a w h i t e boy and a black boy, b o r n on the same f a r m , manage to remain close friends despite the older generation's constant attempts to r e m i n d each t h a t he owes allegiance o n l y to his o w n color. T h e t w o boys finally w i n and go off to the u n i v e r s i t y together. M a r ­ tha Quest herself, b r o u g h t up in A f r i c a , tries to break t h r o u g h

For Miss Lessing, the r e c o g n i t i on of the black's s i m p l i c i t y and

the color bar, an aim t h a t appalls her parents. B u t M a r t h a does

value is the admission of the w h i t e settler's failure to civilize

n o t represent the m a j o r i t y of her generation. H e r contemporaries rebel against their parents, b u t in a v e r y different w a y . T h e y

Africa. N o t ali the w h i t e settlers are identical in Miss Lessing's f i c t i o n .

build a club,

A s i n her w o r k dealing w i t h the English, her f i c t i o n about A f r i c a f r e q u e n t l y relies on a conflict of attitudes between different generations. In Going Home, Miss Lessing praises the motives of the older generation of w h i t e colonials: It seems to me that this story of the man who preferred to die alone rather than return to the cities of his own people expresses what is best in the older type of white men who have come to Africa. He did not come to take what he could get from the country. This man loved Africa for its own sake, and for what is best in it: its emptiness, its promise. It is stili uncreated. [Pp. 14-15.]

and inside it, nothing could happen, nothing threatened, for some tacit law made it impossible to discuss politics here, and Europe was a long way off. In fact, it might be said that this club had come into existence, simply as a protest against everything Europe stood for. There were no divisions here, no barriers, or at least none that could be put into words; the most junior clerk from the raihvays, the youngest typist, were on Christian-name terms with their bosses, and mingled easily with the sons of Cabinet ministers; the harshest adjective in use was "toffee-nosed," which meant snobbish, or exclusive; and even the black waiters who served them were likely to find themselves clapped across the

82

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I N T E N S E

C O M M I T M E N T

shoulders by an intoxicated wolf at the end of the dance: "Good old Tickey," or "There's a good chap, Shilling," and perhaps even their impassive, sardonic faces might relax in an unwilling smile, under pressure from this irresistible flood of universal goodwill. [Martha Quest, pp. 183-184.] B u t clapping the waiters on the back is o n l y p a r t of the story. At a later p a r t y some of these d r u n k e n colonials t r y to force a N e g r o waiter to p e r f o r m a " w a r dance," m a k i n g rather m a l i cious sport of h i m . T h e i r parents engage in a different sort of c r u e l t y , a more t i g h t - l i p p e d and m o r a l l y defended w h i t e superio r i t y . The younger generation never bothers to defend w h i t e superiority; the y o u n g c l u b members simply, and casually, assume i t . Miss Lessing's A f r i c a n f i c t i o n , l i k e her other f i c t i o n , often shows her scorn f o r the halfhearted liberal, the aristocratic do-

LESSING'S

I N T E N S E

C O M M I T M E N T

83

endorses those more systematically c o m m i t t e d to w o r k i n g f o r the socially oppressed. In " H u n g e r " (another of the short novels in Five), a y o u n g N e g r o leaves his native village f o r the jobs and the lights of the large c i t y . He is sent to some C o m m u n i s t whit.es w h o t r y to help h i m . B u t he neglects their advice; he lies, steals, falls in w i t h prostitutes and professional thieves, and is f i n a l l y carted off to j a i l for t r y i n g to rob the Communists' home. Y e t the Communists stick w i t h h i m and send h i m a letter, t e l l i n g h i m so. F r o m prison, the N e g r o returns the f o l l o w i n g message: Teli him I have read it w i t h ali my understanding, and that I thank him and w i l l do what he says and he may trust me. Teli him I am no longer a child, but a man, and that his judgement is just, and it is right I should be punished. [P. 364.] T h e attempts of the person f u l l y c o m m i t t e d are apt to have i m p a c t and meaning.

gooder w h o does n o t really c o m m i t himself to the d o w n t r o d d e n .

N o t ali Miss Lessing's Communists are si m i l a r ly effective. In

T h e n e w l y arrived colonial w o m a n i n " A H o m e for the H i g h -

A Ripple from the Storm, the t h i r d novel in the series dealing

l a n d C a t t l e " (one of the short novels in Five) is anxious to treat

w i t h M a r t h a Quest, Martha's C o m m u n i s t s, whose interminable

her native houseboy w i t h justice and h u m a n i t y . She is even w i l l -

debates take up about h a l f the novel, are severely split ö v e r

i n g to steal her landlady's huge picture of prize h i g h l a n d cattle

whether to f o l l o w their sympathies and f i g h t the color bar or

so t h a t the houseboy can legitimize his mistress by b u y i n g her

a t t e m p t to gain acceptance among the w h i t e p o p u l a t i o n . W h a t

as a w i f e . The w h i t e w o m a n tries to understand the w a y black

should be the crucial question f o r A f r i c a n reformers is abandoned

society operates, and the boy genuinely appreciates her efforts,

as the p a r t y attempts to w o r k its w a y i n t o colonial society. T h e

b u t s t i l i , at the end of the story, the w h i t e w o m a n , n o w no

C o m m u n i s t s ' failure here is an example of the w a y history oper-

longer l i v i n g in the rented flat, fails to recognize her former

ates: the forces of t i m e and place prevented the Communists

houseboy as she watches the p o l i ç e m a r c h i n g h i m off to ja.il. She

f r o m reconciling their beliefs w i t h their possibilities. T h e same

is too busy b u y i n g a table for her new house, although her gifts

doctrine, c a r r y i n g f o r Miss Lessing the same i n t r i n s i c w o r t h ,

have led to his prison sentence. In " L i t t l e T e m b i , " a w h i t e w o m -

m i g h t w e l l have succeeded somewhere else, at some other t i m e ,

an's special fondness f o r a black boy whose life she once saved

under different circumstances.

t u r n s the boy i n t o a wheedling t h i e f . T h e boy is unable to accept his position in the black society and yet he is not, despite the special favors, allowed f u l l equality w i t h the whites. H i s a m b i v alent position destroys h i m , w h i l e the kindhearted w h i t e w o m a n sits b y w o n d e r i n g w h a t has happened. B o t h these w o m e n u l t i mately betray those they t r i e d to help. B u t Miss Lessing strongly

Miss Lessing maintains a consistent interest in t i m e and place. B o t h the use of the social class as a significant part of the i d e n t i t y of the i n d i v i d u a l , and the fact t h a t conflicts are so f r e q u e n t l y depicted as conflicts between generations, between the products of one t i m e and another, indicate Miss Lessing's addiction to historical categories. Frequent parenthetical historical references

84

LESSING'S

I N T E N S E

LESSING'S

C O M M I T M E N T

I N T E N S E

C O M M I T M E N T

85

A n a t t i t u d e stemming f r o m the 'twenties or

f u n e t i o n in the p l o t , f o r he stumbles on a scene in w h i c h the

f r o m W o r l d W a r I is accurately p i n n e d d o w n and labeled.

N e g r o is dressing a strangely transfixed and h y p n o t i z e d M a r y .

fiil ali the

fiction.

M a r t h a Quest is characterized in terms of details relevant to her t i m e and place; she categorizes herself, and is categorized by others, as a socialist and an atheist, labels t h a t stick w i t h her t h r o u g h o u t the novels. E a r l y in the first novel, Martha Quest, Miss Lessing fixes M a r t h a :

S i m i l a r l y , early in Retreat to Innocence, Julia is fixed as a y o u n g L o n d o n g i r l o f 1 9 5 5 i n terms o f black sweaters, frequent attendat

espresso

coffee

bars,

the N e g r o , and this i n c i d e nt precipitates her destruction. Y e t T o n y himself reacts exactly as a y o u n g Englishman w i t h vaguely progressive ideas, the p r o d u e t of his place and generation, m i g h t be expected to react: he falls r i g h t in w i t h ali the usual w h i t e cliches, sanetioned by the wisdom of experience, about m a i n -

She was adolescent, and therefore bound to be unhappy; British, and therefore uneasy and defensive; in the fourth decade of the twentieth century, and therefore inescapably beset with problems of race and class; female, and obliged to repudiate the shackled women of the past. [P. 2 0 . ]

ance

M a r y cannot bear the w h i t e discovery of her fascination w i t h

and

constant

objection

to

the

t a i n i n g the color bar. W h a t m i g h t have been a device to extend the p o i n t of v i e w , to provide additional insight t o w a r d the events of the novel, t u r ns instead, because of the interest in fixing T o n y , i n t o the dullness o f another ease history. H i s t o r i c a l accuracy, in this novel, cuts off a possible dimension of h u m a n perception. Frequently, Miss Lessing's journalistic essays do n o t deal w i t h specific characters b u t rather f u r n i s h sociological deseriptions

" p h o n y . " M i n ö r characters are also defined by t i m e and place,

of w h a t it was l i k e to be in a specific place at a specific t i m e.

often in an i n t r o d u e t o r y biography t h a t leaves l i t t l e f o r the

T h e M a r t h a Quest series is f u l l o f such deseriptions: the A f r i c a n

character to do or say once he appears on the scene. W i l l i , the

legal office in the ' t h i r t i e s ; the change in the colonials' c l u b at

haunted r e v o l u t i o n a r y in Retreat to Innocence, is f u l l y explained

the b e g i n n i n g o f W o r l d W a r I I ; the c o m i n g o f B r i t i s h airmen t o

as soon as he m o m e n t a r i l y appears. T h e ease history of Miss

A f r i c a n bases, and the difference this creates in the t o w n ; the

Privet's career as a prostitute is documented in İn Pursuit of the

C o m m u n i s t s ' t r y i n g to seli their paper in the native quarter; the

English to an extent h a r d l y m e r i t e d by a m i n ö r character. T h i s

predietable seediness and irrelevance of the L e f t Book Club's

extensive detailing of character detracts f r o m Miss Lessing's

meeting. A few of the short stories are entirely dependent u p o n

effectiveness in t w o ways: it sometimes breaks the fiction i n t o a

this k i n d o f sociological deseription. " T h e Eye o f G o d i n Para-

series o f journalistic essays or ease histories, and i t l i m i t s the

dise" (a story in The Habit of Loving)

author to the view t h a t ali people are almost completely c o n d i -

f r o m the p o i n t of v i e w of a pair of B r i t i s h doctors, of the

tioned by time and place, by historical e n v i r o n m e n t.

various forms and echoes o f N a z i s m stili evident i n Germany i n

is an i l l u s t r a t i o n , seen

T h e historically conditioned character sometimes suggcsts the

1 9 5 1 . Some of the sociological essays in Going Home, l i ke the one

cause of an aesthetic shorteoming in Miss Lessing's novels. ( T h e

defending the character of the A f r i k a n d e r or the one p o i n t i n g

short stories, on the other hand, emphasizing a single relationship,

o u t t h a t the U n i o n of South A f r i c a is no more d i s e r i m i n a t o r y

a single c o n d i t i o n i n g , or the i m p a c t of a particular c o m m i t m e n t ,

and at least more honest than is the B r i t i s h government of

are often m u c h more effective.) For example, The Grass İs Sing­

Southern Rhodesia, are b o t h intelligent and unconventional. B u t

ing, the novel concerning M a r y T u r n e r ' s destruction, begins and

essays are one t h i n g and fiction is another. T o o often Miss Les­

ends w i t h an account of T o n y M a r s t o n , a y o u n g Englishman

sing's fiction is dissolved in a l o n g sociological or journalistic

w i t h the usual progressive ideas w h o has just come to A f r i c a

insertion, l i ke the accounts of communistic tactics and wrangles

and finds his first job on the T u r n e r f a r m . T o n y serves a v a l i d

in A Ripple from the Storm or the l o n g , d u l l , clinical study of

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discovering t h a t one is pregnant w h i c h takes up about seventy pages of A Proper Marriage. H e r politics are one-sided, her characters are l i m i t e d in conception, and her w o r l d revolves in a simple p a t t e r n . T h e same flaw is evident in the first novel of another y o u n g author. M a r g o t H e i n e m a n n , i n The Adventurers

( 1 9 6 0 ) , care-

6

f u l l y documents a good deal of h i s t o r y concerning the Welsh miners after W o r l d W a r I I . M u c h o f the sociological description carries enormous interest, b u t the character become s i m p l y socio­ logical representations: the y o u n g miner's son w h o rises as a journalist and betrays his o l d t r i b a l loyalties; the y o u n g miner, f o r w h o m force of character takes the place of education, w h o

Education and the Contemporary Class Structure

remains loyal to his fellows; the upper-class sympathizers w h o stick to a C o m m u n i s t ideal t h a t is no longer relevant to c onditions among the w o r k i n g class. A l i these characters are c o m pletely

determined

by

the

forces

that

have

molded

them,

completely predictable once the b a c k g r o u n d has been established. T h e n , the course set, the novel s i m p l y reports, w i t h journalistic accuracy, w h a t the conference or the strike or the i n d u s t r i a l campaign was l i k e . Miss Heinemann's novel, l i k e some of Miss Lessing's, is n o t o n l y rooted in the social scene b u t becomes, completely and merely, the reflection of t h a t scene. D o r i s Lessing's intense feeling of political and social respon-

T H E I D E A O F CLASS, T H E D I V I S I O N S I N T O W H I C H M A N

carves his society by means of b a c k g r o u n d , geography, occupat i o n , and money, has always received a great deal of a t t e n t i o n in the English novel. H e n r y Fielding, in Tom Jones, established his hero as the n a t u r a l m a n , the f o u n d l i n g , and c o n f r o n t e d h i m w i t h the r u r a l w o r k e r , the c o u n t r y squire, the beginnings of an u r b a n proletariat, and the L o n d o n sophisticate. A n d , in the

s i b i l i t y is carefully w o r k e d i n t o specific historical situations.

nineteenth c e n t u r y , novelists such as Dickens, George E l i o t , and

B u t the positive convictions can become heavy-handed, and the

T r o l l o p e f r e q u e n t l y dealt w i t h class divisions and w i t h the

specific situations journalistic, w h i l e the strict allegiance to time

problems of a t t e m p t i n g to move f r o m one class to another. A l i

and place can l i m i t the range of perception about h u m a n beings.

these w r i t e r s , in defining society in terms of class, w o r k e d on

Miss Lessing's k i n d of i n t e n s i t y is simultaneously her greatest

the assumption that man's social e n v i r o n m e n t , to a large extent,

d i s t i n c t i o n and her p r i n c i p a l defect. She produces an enormously

conditions his attitudes and his responses to the w o r l d . T h e y d i d

l u c i d sociological j o u r n a l i s m , honest and c o m m i t t e d , b u t i n

n o t , however, rule o u t the possibility of the unique and i n d i ­

m u c h of her w o r k she lacks a m u l t i p l e awareness, a sense of

v i d u a l hero, the m a n of insight or v i r t u e t h a t was n o t dependent

comedy, a perception t h a t parts of h u m a n experience cannot

u p o n t i m e or place. At the same t i m e , the terms of the social

be categorized or precisely located, a h u m a n and intellectual

novel demanded that, for the m a j o r i t y of the people i n v o l v e d ,

depth. intense c o m m i t m e n t can c u t off a whole dimension of

t i m e , place, f a m i l y , and occupation b o t h molded and explained

h u m a n experience.

the i n d i v i d u a l . Frequently, in nineteenth-century f i c t i o n , as in the w o r k of Dickens, the hero, unique and i n d i v i d u a l , was set

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against a society in w h i c h a l i other forces were explained and

t h a t he can survive at a l i . A n d the social designation, in his voice

categorized as r i g i d class forms. T h e hero represented v i r t u e ; the

or on his lapel, bccomes a less m e a n i n g f u l d e f i n i t i o n f o r h i m .

others represented vice or s t e r i l i t y or benevolent mindlessness.

At the same t i m e t h a t the changing c u l t u r e and the problems of a

Y e t class became, t h r o u g h the development of the novel, a c o n -

s h r i n k i n g w o r l d have tended to make the class structure b o t h

venient w a y o f e x p l a i n i n g the frequency w i t h w h i c h social

less r i g i d and less relevant, other social and intellectual forces

e n v i r o n m e n t defines the i n d i v i d u a l .

have made class issues an even more notable component of fiction.

I f novels p r o v i d e a n accurate social h i s t o r y o f the past t w o h u n d r e d years, the class structure in E n g l a n d has n o t been c o m ­

First of a l i , m a n , in the t w e n t i e t h c e n t u r y , has less f a i t h in h i m - f self and in the p o l i t i c a l or metaphysical systems he creates t h a n he

pletely r i g i d . I n d i v i d u a l s of energy and talent have always been

d i d d u r i n g the eighteenth and nineteenth ccnturies. He is less

able to consider m o v i n g f r o m one social designation to another.

sure of progress, v i r t u e , G o d , and the independent uniqueness /

T h e process of m o v i n g has n o t been either easy or always suc-

of his o w n soul. He is far more w i l l i n g to acknowledge his o w n

cessful and the price of m o v i n g has, in one f o r m or another,

l i m i t a t i o n s , to recognize h o w l i t t l e of himself is n o t dependent

been h i g h , b u t the possibility has existed. T h e serious w r i t e r , the

u p o n his parents, his social e n v i r o n m e n t , his education, and his

intellectual, o f t e n emphasizes this possibility because he is i n t e r -

class. T h e n i n e t e e n t h - c e n t u ry intellectual f r c q u e n t l y asserted a

ested in e x a m i n i n g the society at its most complicated and

heroic q u a l i t y t h a t was innate, t h o u g h sometimes ineffable, as

ambivalent points. He tends to neglect the mass of m e n f o r w h o m

a p r i m a r y h u m a n value and regardcd society and class as restric-

class has usually been an accepted designation, even a support, in

t i v e barriers; the t w e n t i e t h - c e n t u r y intellectual, on the other

f a v o r of the unique m a n f o r w h o m class is a p r o b l e m or a per-

h a n d, often feels t h a t the heroic and the unique are m y t h s , w h i l e

p l e x i n g issue. T h u s the novelist has s l i g h t l y f alsified social history

he regards society and class as forces t h a t have had a great deal

in exaggerating a f l u i d i t y about and a concern w i t h a class struc­

to do w i t h w h a t he has become. Class then becomes, f o r the

t u r e t h a t m a n y people never consider.

c o n t e m p o r a r y w r i t e r , something to be treated, analyzed, disbecome

sected, w o r k e d w i t h , rather t h a n an image of the barrier the

m a r k e d l y more f l u i d and individuals have m o v e d f r o m one

i n d i v i d u a l faces. Class is also, f o r the contemporary, more dis-

In

the t w e n t i e t h c e n t u r y the class structure has

designation t o another w i t h somewhat greater ease and r a p i d i t y .

cussable, more controllable, t h a n are statements about saving the

A far larger literate p u b l i c and a far greater o p p o r t u n i t y f o r

w o r l d or the destiny of m a n k i n d . As we live in an age w i t h o u t

education have p e r m i t t e d m a n y people to acquire b o t h the neces-

w o r l d - w i d e p o l i t i c a l or metaphysical assurances, the intellectual

sary s k i l l and the necessary interest to consider c h a n g i n g class

f r e q u e n t l y l i m i t s the range of his discussion, talks of the specific

identities. T h e radio, and more recently television, have p u b l i c i z ed

social p r o b l e m because he can make more sense o u t of it t h a n

accents, once the d i s t i n c t marks of class, so w i d e l y t h a t the accent

he can o u t of the problems of nuclear warfare or the existence

has become, f o r m a n y people, the means of p l a y f u l and dramatic

of G o d . Class, f o r the contemporary intellectual, o f t e n serves as

pose rather t h a n a single i d e n t i f y i n g m a r k . In a d d i t i o n , the

a l i m i t e d and sensible substitute f o r far greater and more over-

o v e r w h e l m i n g problems of B r i t i s h society, p a r t i c u l a r l y since

w h e l m i n g issues, a l i m i t e d topic t h r o u g h w h i c h he can express

W o r l d W a r I I , are n o t class problems, f o r the horrors o f mass

some perception and some c o n t r o l . In a d d i t i o n , the increasing

b o m b i n g and the c o m m o n apprehension about nuclear warfare

f l u i d i t y of the class structure, and the increasing numbers of

are n o t attitudes t h a t can be organized or explained along c o n -

people changing or i g n o r i n g designations, have b r o u g h t the

v e n t i o n a l class lines. M a n is, in the t w e n t i e t h c e n t u r y , less sure

problems of class more sharply under focus. As more sons of

)

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the w o r k i n g class leave the u n i v e r s i t y , more of the stresses

AND

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91

of the central issues of the changing society. In earlier ages, w h e n

between o r i g i n and destination become apparent, significant, and

social values seemed more fixed, the w r i t e r c o u l d d w e l l on the

material f o r the social novel or play.

energy and the exceptional q u a l i t y of the hero, characterizing the

T h e hero in a large p a r t of contemporary l i t e r a t ü r e illustrates

society, in a somewhat peripheral manner, by the fixed alterna-

these changing attitudes t o w a r d class. In the w o r k of A m i s ,

tives the hero faced. B u t , in the m i d d l e of the t w e n t i e t h c e n t u r y ,

W a i n , P h i l i p L a r k i n , and others, the hero is f r e q u e n t l y depicted

the fixed a l t e n ı a t i v e s seem far less fixed and the hero, neither

at a p o i n t between t w o classes, between the lower or lower m i d d l e

exceptional nor exceptionally v i r t u o u s , is himself b o t h a p r o d u c t

class of his o r i g i n and the higher class to w h i c h his cducation and

and a p r o b l e m of the society. C e r t a i n l y the unheroic hero is n o t

his a b i l i t y have b r o u g h t h i m . These w r i t e r s are n o t themselves

e n t i r e ly a creation of the last decade, for earlier in the t w e n t i e t h

c h i l d r e n of the lower classes, b u t the c o n t e m p o r a ry w r i t e r , sig-

c e n t u r y writers l i k e A r n o l d Bennett characterized a social w o r l d

n i f i c a n t l y , often places his hero in a social position lower t h a n

w i t h o u t heroism o r any p r i n c i p l e o f v i r t u e . Y e t , i n B r i t a i n , since

his o w n . T h i s position creates the central p r o b l e m of a m a n ,

the end o f W o r l d W a r I I , the unheroic f i g ü re has become the

conditioned by one e n v i r o n m e n t , a t t e m p t i n g to operate w i t h i n

Standard

the terms of another: J i m m y Porter, w i t h his education and his

class structure enabling h i m to display his v i r t u e by r o m a n t i c

elegant w i f e , r u n n i n g a sweet stall in a M i d l a n d s t o w n ; J i m

opposition, w i t h o u t even any p u b l i c l y f i x e d d e f i n i t i o n o f v i r t u e

D i x o n , w i t h his preference f o r beer and v u l g a r practical jokes,

at ali, the w o u l d - b e exceptional and heroic figüre has become the

fictional

representation of the age. W i t h o u t a r i g i d

c o n f r o n t i n g the genteel u n i v e r s i t y . Products of an age in w h i c h

f o o l , the m a n l i v i n g in terms of an o u t m o d e d ideal or a h o l l o w

people can move between classes more easily, these heroes d e m -

pretense.

onstrate b o t h the comparative ease and the more intense strains of a r a p i d i l y changing society. T h e p r o b l e m is n o t simply t h a t of the Dickensian hero s t r u g g l i n g to find himself w i t h i n a higher society. T h e c o n t e m p o r a ry hero, l i k e J i m D i x o n , has had to struggle less and is considerably less the hero. No innate v i r t u e or exceptional energy has fired h i m to make the unique a t t e m p t to break t h r o u g h social categories, nor is he nearly so w i l l i n g as his nineteenth-century counterpart was to trade one class i d e n t i t y f o r another. Rather, the contemporary hero, the John K e m p or the Charles L u m l e y , is s t i l i in some ways p a r t of the class he comes f r o m , and is u n w i l l i n g and unable to abandon ali the attitudes of t h a t class, p a r t i c u l a r l y w h e n he is n o t at ali certain w h a t he is abandoning t h e m f o r . U n l i k e the heroes in the w o r k of Dickens or F i e l d i n g , the

Because, in c o n t e m p o r a ry fiction and drama, m e n are to a great extent products of the time and the place in w h i c h they were b o r n and educated, w r i t e r s spend a good deal of time o u t l i n i n g , describing, and accounting f o r t i m e and place. In the w o r k o f A m i s , W a i n , D o r i s Lessing, and others, changing a t t i ­ tudes t o w a r d class and society are f r e q u e n t l y illustrated by a conflict between generations. Parents are often used as examples of older and more r i g i d attitudes, firmer allegiances, in contrast to the more flexible social attitudes of the c h i l d r e n . D a v i d Storey, another y o u n g novelist f o r w h o m class issues are centrally sig­ nificant and whose w o r k illustrates a f a i r l y t y p i c a l approach to the problems of class, also uses parents to demonstrate older social attitudes t h a t no longer fit the facts of experience. In Storey's first novel, This Sporting Life

( 1 9 6 0 ) , the hero, A r t h u r

contemporary hero is n o t the rare s p i r i t w h o is inexplicable in

M a c h i n , a poor boy f r o m the lower m i d d l e classes, attempts to

terms t h a t account f o r the mundane m a j o r i t y , l i n k e d to the

w o r k his w a y t o money and d i g n i t y b y p l a y i n g professional

rest of us o n l y as an image of w h a t we w o u l d like to represent.

R u g b y in a n o r t h e r n c i t y . As he plays R u g b y , he acquires money,

T h e contemporary hero is rather himself the i l l u s t r a t i o n of one

a mistress, flashy suits, and a high-powered Jaguar. H i s parents

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are q u i e t l y dismayed, f o r , a l t h o u g h they had always t a u g h t h i m t h a t money was a necessary means to a l i things w o r t h w h i l e , t hey retain a class-bred distaste f o r any f o r m of ostentatious l i v i n g . As members of a certain class, t hey advocate an uneasy synthesis of materialism and g e n t i l i t y , a synthesis t h a t A r t h u r , as he actually begins to earn money, fînds impossible to w o r k o u t . T h e y do n o t see t h a t t hey have helped to create this p r o b l e m f o r A r t h u r ; as good, poor, genteel, religious people, they are convinced t h a t whatever happens to an i n d i v i d u a l is e n t i r e l y his o w n responsibility. Storey's second novel, Flight into Caniden ( 1 9 6 0 ) , deals more extensively w i t h the problems o f the older generation. T h e heroine, Margaret T h o r p e , is the educated c h i l d of a h a r d - w o r k i n g m i n e r . A l t h o u g h the m i n e r has struggled to educate his c h i l d r e n and f i r m l y believes in education as the entree to a l i f e better t h a n the pits, he is upset w h e n his c h i l d r e n f o l l o w codes different f r o m his o w n : his educated son, n o w a lecturer at a r e d - b r i c k u n i v e r s i t y , does n o t w a n t to m a r r y in c h u r c h and argues against the importance of the f a m i l y ; his daughter Margaret moves t o L o n d o n t o live w i t h a m a r r i e d m a n . T h e father, physically i l i because of Margaret's affair, blames it a l i on education, and fîercely regrets t h a t he had ever educated his c h i l d r e n . Ideally, he w o u l d have granted t h e m an education on c o n d i t i o n t h a t , t h o u g h i t k e p t t h e m away f r o m the pits, the process w o u l d n o t have changed any of their social or m o r a l attitudes. He wishes, ö v e r and ö v e r again, t h a t his c h i l d r e n had stuck w i t h their class and had never learned the attitudes appropriate to other segments of society. Storey's depictions of parents serve as good examples, f o r there is n o t h i n g malicious or i l l - i n t e n t i o n e d about the parents in either n o v e l . T h e y s i m p l y preach vague values l i k e " m o n e y " or " e d u c a t i o n " to their c h i l d r e n , never realizing t h a t the acquisition of real money or real education w i l l lead to the means and the power t o get away f r o m the firmly held values of the lower m i d d l e class. John Kemp's parents, in P h i l i p L a r k i n ' s / / / / , are s i m i l a r l y unaware t h a t education w i l l ever produce a fundamental change i n John's attitudes. T h e y encourage J o h n t o t r y f o r a scholarship t o O x -

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f o r d , b u t , to t h e m , w o r k i n g h a r d f o r a scholarship is exactly l i k e w o r k i n g one's w a y up in a shop or a f a c t o r y . E d u c a t i o n is a magic w o r d t h a t w i l l assure John's f u t u r e . Storey and L a r k i n are objecting, n o t to education itself, b u t to the aura of value w h i c h accrues about the t e r m f o r people w h o have never experienced the fact. T h e y are objecting, as other contemporary w r i t e r s object, to vague ideals, vague aspirations, notions of something higher or finer t h a t vaguely c l i n g to cert a i n terms f o r the older generation. T h e parents, in the w o r k s of b o t h novelists, believe in slogans, remnants of another era in w h i c h the vague appeal m i g h t have had a stronger connection to the facts of experience t h a n it does today. T h e younger generat i o n , on the other hand, sees t h r o u g h the slogans and the vague ideals, attempts to deal w i t h experience as d i r e c t l y and as i n d i v i d u a l l y as it possibly can. E d u c a t i o n , in fact, acts to break d o w n the vague ideal, to demonstrate the m u l t i p l e facts of i n d i v i d u a l and social experience w h i c h cannot easily or accurately be summarized by a slogan or an ideal. To a great extent, education has helped to underline the conflict between the generations. A r e c u r r i n g hero in c o n t e m p o r a r y fiction and drama is the y o u n g m a n whose education has helped to make h i m something different f r o m his father. Recipients of u n i v e r s i t y grants, the heroes in A m i s , W a i n , Osborne, L a r k i n , and others, have m oved f r o m their l o w e r - or lower middle-class origins, t h r o u g h the u n i v e r s i t y , and o u t i n t o a society in w h i c h they have no clear f u n c t i o n or class designation. E d u c a t i o n has become b o t h the i n s t r u m e n t f o r h e l p i n g to break d o w n the class structure and the focal p o i n t of conflict between the o l d allegiances and the new skepticism. D e a l i n g w i t h the hero at the most difficult and bew i l d e r i n g p o i n t , m a n y c o n t e m p o r a r y novels and plays focus on the student in the u n i v e r s i t y or d u r i n g the first few years after he leaves. Kingsley A m i s ' first t w o novels concern recent u n i v e r sity graduates facing a society they c o u l d have k n o w n o n l y d i m l y had they n o t studied o n u n i v e r s i t y grants; P h i l i p L a r k i n ' s Jill takes place almost e n t i r e l y at O x f o r d ; J o h n W a i n ' s Hurry On Down is a statement of the possibilities open to a y o u n g g r a d -

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uate c o m m i t t e d to n o t h i n g b u t a rejection of the society he k n e w

handle any p r o b l e m or relationship. Peter, on the other hand,

before he entered the u n i v e r s i t y . For a l i the central characters

less a part of a r i g i d l y defined a t t i t u d e , can better understand

education is the i n s t r u m e n t of the o r i g i n a l separation f r o m

the facts of the experience he faces. The u n i v e r s i t y has n o t given

parents and f r o m the attitudes parents represent, the necessary

h i m a f o r m u l a f o r operating w i t h i n society, b u t it has enabled

means f o r a t t e m p t i n g to face society w i t h o u t preconception.

h i m to reject the simple formulas t h a t no longer fit experience.

A l t h o u g h the hero eventually finds t h a t he is less free t h a n he

S i m i l a r l y , another of Thomas Hinde's heroes, the y o u n g m a n in

t h o u g h t he was, his education has at least given h i m an illusion

For the Good of the Company ( 1 9 6 1 ) , discovers t h a t his simple

of freedom sufficient to initiate the action of the novel. In

dedication to w o r k i n g hard, pleasing people, and assuming a

a d d i t i o n to this illusion of freedom, education provides learning,

sophisticated air does n o t ensure success i n the vast Corporation

ease, and a pleasant holiday f r o m the most r i g i d social and class

he w o r k s f o r . B u t this y o u n g m a n , M a r t i n Mason, is n o t the

c o m m i t m e n t s . B u t i n most contemporary w o r k s i t provides n o

p r o d u c t of a u n i v e r s i t y ; he is a t t e m p t i n g to redeem his father's

convictions or attitudes t h a t can be carried o u t i n t o society.

clouded career i n the same firm his father once w o r k e d f o r .

Rather, the u n i v e r s i t y , by the v e r y nature of the intellectual and

As education so often breaks d o w n belief in the sanctity of

c r i t i c a l examination it represents, w o r k s against the f o r m a t i o n of

class and the sanctity of the ideal, m a n y of the u n i v e r s i t y g r a d -

simplified social convictions or vague and happy ideals.

uates in contemporary B r i t i s h fiction are w i l l i n g to investigate

N o t o n l y the boy w i t h origins in the lower or lower middle

ali levels of society. L i k e J i m m y Porter or l i k e Charles L u m l e y

classes finds t h a t his attitudes change at the u n i v e r s i t y . Peter

in Hurry On Doıvn, they examine the attitudes and the reactions

Nicholas, the hero of Thomas Hinde's first novel, M r . Nicholas

of the urbanized w o r k i n g classes. T h i s is n o t a k i n d of sentimen-

( 1 9 5 2 ) , is a fifth-generation O x f o r d student at home d u r i n g the

t a l O r w e l l i a n disguise and immersion in the w o r k i n g classes.

l o n g vacation. T h r o u g h o u t the novel Peter is in conflict w i t h his

Rather, f o r most contemporary writers, the w o r k i n g classes are

demanding and domineering father. Part of this is a simple c o n ­

w o r t h examination for their responses, w i t h o u t ideals, to a w o r l d

flict of wills between the a u t h o r i t y of the father and the power

t hey have f o u n d as perplexing and chaotic as the w o r l d the

of the emerging y o u n g m a n . B u t the generations are also defined

u n i v e r s i t y graduate finds. Some contemporary w r i t e r s ,

in social terms. Peter's father, representative of his generation,

D o r i s Lessing, seek a k i n d of p o l i t i c al u n i t y w i t h the w o r k i n g

feels that the y o u n g m a n home f r o m O x f o r d should organize

classes. B u t for most contemporaries, whatever their o w n o r i g i n ,

like

cricket matches, show allegiance to the local Conservative p a r t y ,

the interest in the w o r k i n g classes is n o t p o l i t i c a l . W r i t e r s as

and entertain the proper people f o r tennis matches and cocktails

different f r o m one another in b o t h o r i g i n and p o i n t of v i ew as

before l u n c h . Peter w o u l d rather stay in his r o o m and read or

Osborne, W a i n , Shelagh Delaney, Storey, and K e i t h Waterhouse

draw. He resists ali his father's efforts to engage h i m in the

have ali examined the t r a d i t i o n a l attitudes of the w o r k i n g classes,

accepted pastimes of their supposed class. Despite ali his assurance,

n o t f r o m any allegiance to t h e m as such, b u t in an a t t e m p t to

however, Peter's father is inept in t r y i n g to extricate a younger

w o r k o u t , for their heroes, the sanest and most effective w a y to

son f r o m an a t t r a c t i o n to an older, rather unsavory m a n . M r .

survive in contemporary society.

Nicholas storms and blunders, repeats, to no avail, ali the m a n l y and f o r t h r i g h t slogans of his generation. T h e more he blusters the more psychotic he becomes u n t i l , at the end of the novel, he breaks his o w n r i g i d code and is then completely unable to

H i s t o r i c a l l y , most of the urbanized B r i t i s h w o r k i n g classes have n o t aspired t o w a r d the vague ideal of education or the even vaguer one of g e n t i l i t y , ideals that b o t h the u n i v e r s i t y and the history o f the past fifty years have helped to p u n c t u r e . T h e

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w o r k i n g classes have, on the whole, f o u n d it sufficiently difficult

ing-class m a n must keep himself alive w i t h i n the jungle w i t h o u t

to m a i n t a i n themselves w i t h o u t the additional b u r d e n of aspiring

hope of r e f o r m or t r a n s f o r m a t i o n .

t o w a r d some unreachable ideal. As R i c h a r d H o g g a r t points o u t in The

Uses

of

Literacy

(1957),

the

working

classes

generally

I n a t t e m p t i n g t o defend his o w n position w h i l e accepting the fact t h a t he cannot change the w o r l d about h i m , the w o r k -

guard their o w n attitudes and their o w n positions jealously, and

ing-class m a n is seldom a p a t r i o t or a booster. He does n o t t e n d

have a deep suspicion o f c i v i l servants or officials or people o f

to support systems or t a l k about allegiances beyond those on a

higher economic or social status, " T h e m , " a g r o u p t o t a l l y distinct

v e r y direct and personal level. He is skeptical about the pos-

f r o m " U s . " Generations o f economic i n e q u i t y , f o l l o w e d b y nearly

s i b i l i t y of change, about p o l i t i c a l causes, about the efficacy of

ten years o n the dole before W o r l d W a r I I , have given the w o r k -

general ideas. He has l i t t l e f a i t h in the f u t u r e , and feels, p a r t i c -

i n g classes a constant a n t i p a t h y t o w a r d the rulers or the estab-

u l a r l y in these days of comparative peace and prosperity, t h a t he

lished people in society, an a n t i p a t h y s t i l i f u n d a m e n t a l despite

had best get w h a t he can f o r himself w h i l e it lasts. A r t h u r

the economic prosperity general i n B r i t a i n since W o r l d W a r I I .

M a c h i n and his R u g b y mates keep r e f e r r i n g to this u n c e r t a i n t y

A u t o m a t i c a l l y , almost i n s t i n c t i v e l y , m a n y members o f the w o r k -

about the f u t u r e , to the necessity of g e t t i n g and spending n o w

i n g classes feel antagonistic t o w a r d the poliçe, t o w a r d the leaders

because n e x t year they m i g h t be at w a r , v i c t i m s of radiation, or

of society, or t o w a r d any expression of p o l i t i c a l or governmental

•vvorking in labor camps in Siberia. The feeling t h a t so l i t t l e comes

a u t h o r i t y . Opposed to a society t h a t he cannot conquer or defeat,

under their c o n t r o l makes the w o r k i n g classes eager to do w h a t

the working-class m a n must often settle f o r preserving himself,

they can w h i l e they have the power and the energy. R i c h a r d

keeping himself f r o m k n u c k l i n g under to the power of officials

H o g g a r t maintains t h a t they have always been l i k e this:

and c i v i l servants. He views the w o r l d as a chaotic jungle, w o r k i n g f o r the benefit of those w h o already have money and position, and feels t h a t the best he can do is preserve himself in the m i d s t of the jungle. A r t h u r M a c h i n , in This Sporting Life, essentially working-class despite his parents' hopes, plays R u g b y p r i m a r i l y t o retain his o w n i d e n t i t y : I was stili kneeling, absorbed in an odd resigned feeling. My back teeth chattered as I pulled myself up, my hands shook w i t h cold, and I despised myself for not feeling hate for the man who'd torn my nostril. I was used to everything now. Ten years of this, ten years of the crowd—I could make one mistake, one slight mistake only, and the whole tragedy of living, of being alive, would come into the crowd's throat and roar its pain like a maimed animal. The cry, the rage of the crowd echoed över and filled the valley—a shape came towards me in the gloom. [P. 2 J J - ]

There are many t h r i f t y working-class people today, as there have always been. But in general the immediate and present nature of working-class life puts a premium on the taking of pleasures now, discourages planning for some future goal, or in the light of some ideal. "Life is no bed of roses," they assume; but "tomorrow will take care of itself": on this side the working-classes have been cheerful existentialists for ages. [The Uses of Literacy, Pelican ed., p. 105.] A n d , because no system or allegiance can assure the f u t u r e , the w o r k i n g classes are apt to a t t r i b u t e a good deal to l u c k . L i k e A l a n Sillitoe's hero w h o w o r k s on the capstan lathe, m e n are prone to conclude t h a t pure chance has the largest share in d e t e r m i n i n g w h a t happens to a m a n or to a society. T h e m a n w h o feels he has l i t t l e c o n t r o l is n o t l i k e l y to ascribe good f o r t u n e to his o w n v i r t u e or make bad f o r t u n e his o w n responsibility.

A r t h u r must subordinate the l u x u r y o f personal e m o t i o n t o the

T h e working-class man's lack of f a i t h in the f u t u r e , his

p r o b l e m of keeping his head above the m u d . A l a n Sillitoe, in

insistence on preserving his o w n i d e n t i t y , and his refusal to

Saturday Night and Sunday Morning, also feels t h a t the w o r k -

t r u s t governments or ideals are ali essentially defensive measures

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in the midst of a society in w h i c h he has never had the upper

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99

order. T h a t her classless lover leaves her at the end of the novel,

hand. H i s ethos is f r e q u e n t l y the preservation of a rear-guard

t h a t he is the one w h o is u l t i m a t e l y unable to sustain the a d u l t -

action, stolid, t i g h t - l i p p e d , refusing to give up a morsel of

erous relationship, indicates that, in Storey's terms, Margaret has

i d e n t i t y or position. Society has, for so l o n g , left the w o r k i n g

good reason f o r her defensive hesitation. She has been b a d l y h u r t

class so few alternatives t h a t , even in the midst of a more liberal

by going outside the realm of her protective home, a l t h o u g h her

or tolerant society, it holds itself to itself w i t h intensity. D a v i d Storey presents this defensive i n t e n s i t y b r i l l i a n t l y in

break has t a u g h t her a great deal. She can never s i m p l y adhere to or s i m p l y rebel against home and class again.

b o t h of his novels. He uses the working-class w o m a n , apparently

John Kemp's defense takes a different f o r m in L a r k i n ' s Jill.

cold and sardonic, unable to demonstrate the love she feels, as

Rejected by his cosmopolitan roommate at O x f o r d and unable

an i n d i c a t i o n of the defensive intensity t h a t permeates the w o r k -

to feel at ease among the casual students w h o c r o w d the pubs,

i n g classes. A r t h u r M a c h i n falls in love w i t h a y o u n g w o r k i n g -

he retreats i n t o fantasy. He invents, at first for his roommate's

class w i d o w at whose g r u b b y house he has rented a r o o m . As he

benefît, a c h a r m i n g and precocious sister named J i l l . The i n v e n -

gathers in large checks f r o m the R u g b y c l u b , he buys her clothes

t i o n grows as J o h n becomes more u n h a p p y at O x f o r d , for he

and a television set, takes her o u t to dinner in his elegant Jaguar.

supplies his sister w i t h a f u l l diary, a small b u t elegant public

She becomes his mistress, b u t she never really yields to h i m , i n -

school, and holidays in Wales. He f i c t i o n a l l y gives his sister the

sisting coldly and r i g i d l y on retaining her o w n shabby i d e n t i t y .

upper middle-class b a c k g r o u n d he has never had. E v e n t u a l l y the

T h e experience of h a v i n g g r o w n up in a class t h a t expected

fantasy breaks d o w n : its compensations are inadequate for John

n o t h i n g , added to the sudden and accidental death of her hus-

and he makes another, even more disastrously unsuccessful at-

band, has created such a sardonic shell t h a t she is unable to show

t e m p t to j o i n his roommate's sophisticated circle by p u r s u i n g an

love. A t one p o i n t , A r t h u r , n o w successful, berates her w i t h the

actual g i r l named J i l l . Y e t the fantasy, for a time so d o m i n a n t ,

middle-class charge of i n g r a t i t u d e . B u t the w o r k i n g classes can-

provides the o n l y moments of ease and c o m f o r t f o r the Lanca-

n o t allow g r a t i t u de f o r morsels to dissolve their position, and the

shire boy at O x f o r d .

w o m a n , M r s . H a m m o n d , o n l y retreats f u r t h e r and f u r t h e r i n t o

Fantasy is, however, a sign of c r e a t i v i t y , a response to u n h a p -

her defense. A r t h u r himself, despite his success, is often defensive.

piness possible f o r the w r i t e r or the incipient intellectual. It is

He knows he must conceal his feelings in order to play R u g b y

n o t the usual defense of the member of the w o r k i n g class. H e ,

w e l l , and he deliberately ignores his perceptions in relation to

u n l i k e John K e m p , has neither the interest nor the leisure f o r

others in order n o t to be d r a w n too closely to t h e m . Even M a r g a -

fantasy, and keeps to his p r o t e c t i o n of himself, his assertion of

ret, the supposedly liberated miner's daughter in Flight into

his person, as his p r i m a r y defense. The defense is o f t e n physical

Camden, has difficulty breaking sufficiently f r o m her class-bred

as w e l l as personal. As Cl a ncy Sigal points o u t in his book

feelings of convention and g u i l t to respond f u l l y to her lover.

Weekend in Dinlock

She feels t h a t it is degrading to show strong feeling, b u t she

A m e r i c a n author spent in a small m i n i n g c o m m u n i t y in the

f i n a l l y does abandon home and parents to j o i n her lover in L o n -

n o r t h of E n g l a n d , the miner's greatest pride is his physical

( 1 9 6 0 ) , an account o f t w o weekends the

d o n . H e r lover constantly calls her a p u r i t a n , t h o u g h her defen-

a b i l i t y to stick to the difficult job he loathes. Weaker workers,

sive self-discipline is n o t p a r t of an adherence to any abstract

w h o stay above g r o u n d , feel h u m b l e and unc e rt a i n. Physical

code or ideal. She is s i m p l y enough the p r o d u c t of her home and

violence, under circumstances that do n o t allow the m a n to be

her class so t h a t she cannot easily break out of a r i g i d , defensive

labeled as a b u l l y , is the i n d i c a t i o n of a m a n of power and talent,

ıOO

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E D U C A T I O N

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I O I

asserting himself in one of the few ways his society leaves open

brother takes her to a f a c u l t y reception at the u n i v e r s i t y .

to h i m . SigaPs miners also f o l l o w no cause or creed or c h u r c h ,

Margaret's brother, despite his status as lecturer, never loses the

expect l i t t l e f r o m the government or the N a t i o n a l Coal B o a r d ;

i d e n t i f y i n g m a r k s : he uses his w o r k to make personal claims,

the physical, in one f o r m or another, is the o n l y means for the

as any w o r k m a n does, and, according to Margaret's classless

i n d i v i d u a l to record his presence and his i m p a c t u p o n others.

lover, he is b o t h " e x t r e m e l y s e n t i m e n t a l " and " i n c o r r i g i b l y

Margaret T h o r p e , in Flight into Camden, also talks about the

h a r d " t o w a r d any discussion of class. Success, even success by

miner's extreme p h y s i c a l i t y. P a r t i a l l y ambivalent about class

middle-class standards, does n o t alleviace the defense of m a k i n g

because she has been educated, she sometimes loathes the fact t h a t

an issue of oneself, of resolving things in terms of the personal,

her father responds physically to every emotion, t h r o w s up his

as Margaret's brother does t h r o u g h o u t the novel. J o h n K e m p ,

food w h e n he is upset, lashes o u t w h e n he v i o l e n t l y disagrees.

despite ali his efforts to become as casual and as sophisticated as

She feels t h a t his p h y s i c a l i t y destroys his d i g n i t y , yet she also

his roommate, is also unable to t h r o w off his b a c k g r o u n d . He is

understands t h a t the m a n has no other w a y , no q u i c k l y fashioned

p r o u d of his china and his neat f i l i n g system, and he can never

phrases or learned arguments, in w h i c h to express his fierce

adopt the casual h a b i t of h e l p i n g himself to the beer or the tea

resentment. T h e intensely personal, or even the crudely physical,

in another's r o o m . H i s f r i e n d W h i t b r e a d , another poor scholar

becomes the o r d i n a r y means of expression f o r the w o r k i n g class.

f r o m the n o r t h , is even more insistent about his o r i g i n t h a n John

Adherence t o the strictures o f g e n t i l i t y w o u l d deny t h e m any

is. A h a r d - w o r k i n g drudge, W h i t b r e a d makes his b a c k g r o u n d a

o u t l e t whatsoever.

p o i n t o f pride, constantly c l a i m i n g t h a t i t has t a u g h t h i m the

T h e heroes and the heroines of novels such as those by Storey

virtues o f h a r d w o r k , o f the careful accumulation o f knowledge,

and L a r k i n are f r e q u e n t l y y o u n g people a t t e m p t i n g to get

and of Spartan l i v i n g . Sometimes the new e n v i r o n m e n t , even the

beyond the simple class designation i n t o w h i c h they were b o r n .

u n i v e r s i t y , doesn't seem to change the class-bred being at a l i .

T h e y begin by refusing to be l i m i t e d by class or b a c k g r o u n d ,

I n some situations, i n the w o r k o f b o t h Storey and L a r k i n ,

h o p i n g to f i n d a w o r l d w i t h fewer fetters, fewer distinguishing

the insistence on lower-class i d e n t i t y seems p e t t y and c h u r l i s h .

marks. As educated people in the m i d d l e of the t w e n t i e t h cen­

Characters cannot always govern their outlets or their defenses

t u r y , they are w i l l i n g to start by i g n o r i n g their parents' sound

as gracefully as they m i g h t wish to. J o h n r u d e l y asks his r o o m ­

precepts and t r y i n g to look at experience w i t h o u t preconception.

mate to r e t u r n some b o r r o w e d money in the m i d d l e of a tea

Y e t ali of t h e m , to some extent, c a r r y the attitudes of the class

p a r t y , just as he is t r y i n g hardest to impress his roommate's ele-

they come f r o m . Margaret T h o r p e cannot look at a g r o u p of

gant friends. A r t h u r M a c h i n goes i n t o a tirade at w o m e n s m o k i n g

m e n w i t h o u t w o n d e r i n g w h o is a w o r k m a n and w h o is n o t ;

in the strect, and one of his R u g b y - p l a y i n g friends, a m a n w h o

J o h n K e m p automatically notices the clothes of every y o u n g

has married i n t o the m i d d l e classes, writhes whenever his w i f e

m a n at O x f o r d and is able to t e l i , in his mother's terms, whether

mentions " m u m m y and d a d d y . " Margaret's brother, the u n i v e r ­

the y o u n g m a n is l i k e himself or n o t . Class is, f o r those people,

sity lecturer, in a m o m e n t of anger, even asks Margaret to be care­

a constant and unconscious p o i n t of v i e w , a f r a m e w o r k , whether

f u l of w h o m she is seen w i t h because of his position at the u n i v e r ­

they e x p l i c i t l y object to it or n o t , underneath ali their percep-

s i t y . On one hand, this behavior often seems t r i v i a l and boorish.

tions. T h e y become p a r t i c u l a r l y self-conscious and aware of

Y e t , on the other hand, in ali these novels, the y o u n g person f r o m

class whenever they a t t e m p t to engage in the larger society.

the lower classes is often i n e x p l i c a b l y rejected, made u n c o m f o r t -

Margaret is most keenly aware of her o w n origins w h e n her

able s i m p l y because of his b a c k g r o u n d . John K e m p really is mis-

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treated at O x f o r d , simultaneously snubbed and taken advantage

W a i n assert values in terms t h a t have been t r a d i t i o n a l l y associ-

of by his roommate and his roommate's friends. A n d w h e n John,

ated w i t h the values of the w o r k i n g classes.

d r u n k , f i n a l l y gets the courage to kiss the actual J i l l

(the

I n the middle o f the t w e n t i e t h c e n t u r y , B r i t i s h w r i t e r s have

cosmopolitan group has egged h i m o n ) , he is c r u e l l y t h r o w n i n t o

come increasingly to recognize the a p p l i c a b i l i t y of t r a d i t i o n a l

the college f o u n t a i n on a cold December n i g h t . S i m i l a r l y , the

working-class attitudes. T h e skepticism about a u t h o r i t y and

w e a l t h y people w h o o w n the f o o t b a l l team t h a t A r t h u r M a c h i n

leadership, the sense t h a t m a n controls so l i t t l e o f his destiny,

plays f o r seem t o t o y w i t h A r t h u r . T h e y i n v i t e h i m t o parties,

and the realization t h a t w h a t m a n can achieve is l i m i t e d and

lead h i m o n , t h e n w i t h d r a w their favor and their interest just

personal have ali been s t r o n g l y reinforced by the history of the

w h e n he has come to expect i t . T r i v i a l i t y m a y sometimes become

last f i f t y years. T h e sensitive and concerned m a n has t u r n e d

the o n l y plausible defense for the y o u n g m a n operating in a

t o w a r d values t h a t are simultaneously defenses, attitudes t h a t

new and insecure sphere. I n the w o r k o f D a v i d Storey, a s i n the w o r k o f numerous

allow m a n to live w i t h o u t pretense or falsification in the midst of a chaotic w o r l d . T h e i n d i v i d u a l , p a r t i c u l a r l y

the B r i t i s h

other contemporaries, the identification w i t h class, t r i v i a l and

i n d i v i d u a l , w h o is in conflict w i t h the reigning society around

difficult as it often is, emerges as a solid value. T h e heroes and the

h i m can no longer dash off to conquer a new empire w i t h o u t

heroines do n o t completely r e t u r n to the ways of their parents,

heavy space suits, c a r e f u l ly c o n t r o l l e d oxygen intake valves,

f o r they have seen the m o d e r n w o r l d more clearly, b u t they do

and constant electronic c o m m u n i c a t i o n w i t h the master g o v e r n -

recognize t h a t they cannot abandon w h a t they've been b o r n

m e n t back home. T h e i n d i v i d u a l must s i m p l y t r y t o survive

and b r o u g h t up w i t h . A r t h u r M a c h i n recognizes the false g l a m -

as best he can in the u n c e r t a i n and unsatisfactory place where

o u r of the R u g b y prestige and the R u g b y pay check, and realizes

he began, as the working-class m a n has always had to do. At one

t h a t o n l y M r s . H a m m o n d , t h w a r t e d , sardonic, b i t t e r l y a member

p o i n t in This Sporting Life, A r t h u r M a c h i n

of the lower classes, has really engaged his emotions. He can

pressed w i t h his R u g b y , his mistress, and his new, elegant friends.

reject his parents' homely maxims and their theoretical praise of

He t h i n k s of an A m e r i c a n novel in w h i c h the hero, a detective

aspiration, b u t at the end he does revere his parents f o r h a v i n g

called S t u l t o n , s i m i l a r l y fed u p , just gets i n t o his car and drives

is

thoroughly

de-

been able to f o r m u l a t e their lives w i t h r o o m f o r their personal

across vast A m e r i c a n miles and o u t of his problems. A r t h u r

emotional expressions. He has, in a r o u n d a b o ut w a y , subscribed

admires h i m :

to an old working-cIass value: the insistence on the importance of the personal emotion. S i m i l a r l y , Margaret T h o r p e , despite her p u r i t a n i s m and her various hesitations, remains f a i t h f u l to her lover. T h e lover, on the other hand, an art teacher, ahvays described as classless and rootless, is weak and undependable. He leaves Margaret, aware t h a t he is n o t strong enough to create a l i f e o u t of a personal allegiance. Storey suggests that his classlessness is his lack of strength. He has no defenses, no personal i d e n t i t y , so t h a t he is forced to f o l l o w the simplest m a x i m of middle-class c o n v e n t i o n and r e t u r n , w i t h o u t hope or meaning, to his w i f e . L i k e Storey, writers such as A l a n Sillitoe and John

That touched me. I thought if only I could break things up like this Stulton, and get on to the next place and leave ali these wrecks behind. I even tried driving out of town fast. But the roads were crammed. They twisted and ducked about. And I'd only go a couple of miles, hardly leaving town behind, before I was in the next bloody place. One town started where the other left off. There was no place to feel free. I was on a chain, and wherever I went I had to come back the same way. [P. 192.] T h e m a n f r o m the w o r k i n g class has never had a car or the r o o m to d r i v e , and he has never had m a n y alternatives; and n o w

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he has come to represent a m u c h wider segment of society. At

AND

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IOJ

act means a n y t h i n g . A n d Katherine, w h o had fabricated uneasy

the same t i m e , as class lines loosen, m a n y more people of w o r k -

and elaborate fantasies about her r e u n i o n w i t h R o b i n , accepts

ing-class o r i g i n have become literate and articulate, r e t a i n i n g

his proposition. A f t e r her first disillusion w i t h h i m , she, too,

m a n y of the attitudes of their class. H i s t o r y , by s h r i n k i n g the

realizes t h a t o n l y the simple and t e m p o r a ry relationship between

w o r l d , by destroying the efficacy of past virtues and moralities,

t w o people holds any meaning w i t h i n the small, s h r u n k e n , cha-

and by m a k i n g change f r o m one class to another more easily

otic w o r l d . W o r l d W a r I I acts a s the single catalytic force i n

possible, has helped to make working-class attitudes—the insist-

A Girl in Winter, and it is, f o r m a n y contemporary w r i t e r s ,

ence on the personal and the physical, the skepticism about an

the most significant event in causing the shift f r o m assured

established t r u t h , the belief t h a t s u r v i v a l is m o s t l y a m a t t e r of

attitudes to the u n c e r t a in values represented by a single n i g h t

luck—applicable to a m u c h wider range of B r i t i s h society.

in bed. Y e t the h i s t o r y of the past sixteen or seventeen years,

T h i s process, this effect of t i m e , education, and h i s t o r y , is

dominated by the threat of nuclear warfare and mass genocide,

detailed in P h i l i p L a r k i n ' s second novel, A Girl in Winter ( 1 9 4 7 ) .

has done n o t h i n g to reverse the attitudes represented by W o r l d

Katherine L i n d , presumably a

War II.

German

refugee in E n g l a n d

d u r i n g W o r l d W a r I I , serves a s the central p o i n t o f view t h r o u g h

T h e contemporary w r i t e r t u r n s to the t r a d i t i o n a l values of

w h i c h ali the events are seen. She contrasts the i d y l l i c summer

the w o r k i n g class n o t to find a p r o l e t a r i a ı ı utopia nor to endorse

o f her prewar visit t o E n g l a n d w i t h the cold, g r u b b y r e a l i ty o f

some vague notions about i m p r o v i n g conditions or the equality

her present stay. She n o w files books in a l i b r a r y in a g r i m y

of ali men. P r i m a r i l y , the w r i t e r values the w o r k i n g class for

Mi d l a n ds t o w n . T h e contrast is p o i n t e d even more sharply in

its t r a d i t i o n a l responses w i t h i n a society it cannot c o n t r o l , f o r

the character of R o b i n , the y o u n g son of the f a m i l y that enter-

learning to live w i t h i n a l i m i t e d compass. The problems of the

tained her at their house in O x f o r d s h i r e . D u r i n g the prewar visit

w o r k i n g class have, in one sense, become the problems of m a n y

R o b i n was polite and self-contained, carefully efficient, c o n -

of the t h o u g h t f u l men in the whole society: h o w to assert and

s t a n t l y organized, and t h o r o u g h l y considerate. Even at sixteen

defend oneself in the m i d s t of chaos and indifference. T h e f o o l ,

or seventeen he seemed sure of his career in the Foreign Office

in contemporary society, is the m a n w h o does n o t realize the

and of the sequence of steps necessary to arrive there. He was

l i m i t e d extent of his power or c o n t r o l , the pretentious m a n w h o

the model boy of his class and generation, and Katherine often

talks or acts as if the assurances f r o m another t i m e or another

regretted n o t being able to get t h r o u g h his perfect ease and

class were s t i l i i n t a c t . O f t e n the m a n of pretense is made r i d i c -

containment. W h e n she meets h i m again in w a r t i m e , he has

ulous, as P h i l i p L a r k i n satirizes A n s t e y , the head l i b r a r i a n in

changed completely. N o w in the a r m y , he is no longer in c o n t r o l

A Girl in Winter, w h o gives constant u n w a n t e d advice on h o w

of his f u t u r e and himself. T h a t his career has been i n t e r r u p t e d

to succeed in business by careful a t t e n t i o n to r o u t i n e details.

or destroyed is of secondary i m p o r t a n c e ; more i m p o r t a n t is t h a t

A n s t e y , a sententious fool whose cliches are punctuated by bits

ali his assurance, his whole manner of meeting ali problems

of self-congratulation and smoke f r o m the pipe he cannot keep

w i t h methodical efficiency, has been beaten d o w n by historical

l i g h t e d , is a forerunner of A m i s ' Professor W e l c h . S i m i l a r l y , in

forces far stronger t h a n

/ / / / , L a r k i n makes f u n o f W h i t b r e a d , the poor and pompous

he.

He reverts, defensively, to the

i n d i v i d u a l and the immediate. H e n o w wants o n l y t o sleep w i t h

scholar w h o keeps repeating his l i t t l e maxims about study and

Katherine f o r the n i g h t because o n l y the simple and personal

h a r d w o r k as the means of assuring a comfortable f u t u r e . At the

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end of the novel John K e m p is so fed up w i t h W h i t b r e a d ' s

shape, c o n t r o l , and direct the m u l t i p l i c i t y of contemporary ex-

homilies t h a t he sneaks i n t o W h i t b r e a d 's r o o m one n i g h t to smear

perience instead of chasing phantoms of t r i t e visions f r o m the

b u t t e r and j a m ali ö v e r his clothes. T h e men of pretense, the

past. T h e y t r y to distinguish the genuine artist f r o m the p h o n y ,

fools, cannot see that the w o r l d w i l l n o t allo-w them the extended

and the genuine artist is the m a n w h o , exp!oring i m p o r t a n t c o n ­

assurances they prate about, cannot acknowledge t h a t they are

temporary attitudes and perceptions, gives direetion and mean-

c a r r y i n g outmoded maxims i n t o a newer, less certain w o r l d .

i n g to his w o r k . For m a n y w r i t e r s a genuine representation of

A n d in a w o r l d in w h i c h genuine or malicious e v i l is vast, vague,

contemporary B r i t a i n requires the examination and inelusion of

beyond the b o u n d a r y of i n d i v i d u a l hate or c o n t r o l , the repetition

perspeetives t r a d i t i o n a l l y held by the w o r k i n g classes. T h i s is

of sententious and inapplicable statements becomes the greatest

n o t because working-class perspeetives are necessarily accurate,

erime. T h e foolish m a n , the m a n w h o doesn't realize that his

for the D i n l o c k miners are more l i m i t e d than any w r i t e r w o u l d

inherited maxims about the rewards of v i r t u e or the necessity of

choose to be; nor is it to g l o r i f y the w o r k i n g classes as i n n a t e l y

prudence no longer f i t experience, is the frequent b u t t of con­

more noble or finer t h a n other classes. Rather, working-class

t e m p o r a r y novels.

perspeetives need examination because they have, in the course

In one w a y the contemporary w r i t e r is more l i m i t e d t h a n

of history, come to represent the reponses of a segment far larger

m a n y of his predecessors have been, f o r often his experience

than merely those w h o w o r k w i t h their shoulders and their backs.

leaves h i m l i t t l e room for cosmic visions or grand moral syntheses.

As the r i g i d distinetion between classes weakens and as more

T h e contemporary English w r i t e r , l i k e the member o f the w o r k -

y o u n g men become better educated, the B r i t i s h intellectual is, in

i n g classes, is apt to be suspicious of a n y t h i n g t h a t sounds like

a significant w a y , more free to choose his attitudes f r o m any

an abstract ideal, an intangible or distant goal t o w a r d w h i c h the

class he likes. He feels t h a t he need n o t f o l l o w his parents, his

h u m a n being strives. T h e w o r k i n g m a n ' s lack of f a i t h in vast

school, or the dictates of his oecupation. A l t h o u g h he carries a

purposes or vague promises leads h i m to respect the practical

good deal of his e n v i r o n m e n t w i t h h i m , his very acknowledgment

rather than the abstract ideal. C l a n c y Sigal's miners in Weekend

t h a t it is his o w n e n v i r o n m e n t , rather than the t r u t h , helps to

in Dinlock laugh scornfully at the m i n e r w h o w o u l d leave the

make his choice and his c o m m i t m e n t s b o t h more free and more

t e m p o r a r y security of the pits (even t h o u g h they hate the pits

responsible. Y e t at the v e r y t i m e t h a t class leaves h i m most r o o m ,

themselves) to t r y to become a painter. Man's job, they feel, is

history and geography have enormously reduced his possible

to stick to w h a t he knows, his p i c k , his t o w n , his w o m a n , instead

range of concern in comparison w i t h the ranges of earlier w r i t e r s .

of f o l l o w i n g some vague nonsense like art. C o n t e m p o r a r y n o v -

Cosmic speculation seems elosed, w o r l d politics are precarious

elists, too, satirize those w h o glamorize art as some divine goddess;

and accidental, heroic v i r t u e is a f i g m e n t of the illusory past. The

A m i s , W a i n , and A n g u s W i l s o n f r e q u e n t l y attack the m a n w h o

h i s t o r y o f the last f i f t y years has helped to give the B r i t i s h i n t e l ­

worships at the shrine of his allegiance to art as w e l l as the m a n

lectual m a n y of his working-class attitudes: his defensive insist-

w h o worships his m o r a l i t y or his politics. Y e t most contemporary

ence on the immediate and the personal, his scorn of the preten­

w r i t e r s w o u l d n o t restrict the practical or the sensible to the

tious and idealistic f o r m u l a for h u m a n conduct. T h e w o r k i n g

n a r r o w d e f i n i t i o n the miners i n D i n l o c k give i t . W a i n , A m i s ,

classes have not, in B r i t a i n , taken ö v e r the r u l i n g power of society,

and W i l s o n are neither anti-intellectual nor scornful of art.

nor have they actively proselytized for converts to their points

Rather, they demand that art deal w i t h the tangible, t h a t art

o f view (the v e r y nature o f the points o f view w o u l d w o r k

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against any such a c t i v i t y ) . A n d intellectuals are p r o b a b l y s t i l i i n the m i n o r i t y n u m e r i c a l l y , even i n B r i t i s h society. Y e t B r i t i s h intellectuals, in the face of somewhat similar obstacles, have adopted something of the l i m i t e d intransigence t h a t has, in i n d u s t r i a l society, l o n g been the w o r k i n g m a n ' s o n l y defense.

Creeping Americanism

T H E CONTEMPORARY B R I T I S H SCENE, A S PRESENTED B Y

recent novelists, contains a great deal of A m e r i c a n c u l t u r e . Kingsley A m i s ' characters, f o r example, devising their faces and their roles, rely heavily on grade-C H o l l y w o o d westcrns, detect i v e stories, and often ape the dialogue of H u m p h r e y Bogart. J o h n W a i n ' s w o r k , too, is permeated by references to the i n f u sions o f A m e r i c a n popular c u l t u r e i n t o B r i t i s h l i f e . I n presenting a series of c u l t u r a l references t h a t are less c o n v e n t i o n a l ly those of B r i t i s h f i c t i o n , these w r i t e r s p o r t r a y a w o r l d t h a t is also less t r a d i t i o n a l l y and u n i q u e l y B r i t i s h , t h a t contains elements of H o I l y w o o d , r o c k and r o l l , and the teen-age consumer. T h i s A m e r i c a n influence is nowhere more evident t h a n in an enormously f u n n y novel called Billy Liar

(1959)

by K e i t h W a t e r -

house. Billy Liar takes place in Stradhoughton, a small Y o r k s h i r e c i t y . B u t the c i t y is no longer f u l l o f the " s t u r d y buildings o f honest native stone," the independent c o u n t r y c h a r m ,

the "cobbled

streets" t h a t M a n o' the Dales, the popular columnist in the local paper, wishes to preserve. T h e M a n o' the Dales, w i t h his t a l k of Y o r k s h i r e " p i q u a n c y " and the salutary effects of " b r a c k i s h a i r ,"

ı ı O

creepıng

creepıng

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ı ı ı

is r o m a n t i c i z i n g a Y o r k s h i r e t h a t no longer exists. T h e t o w n

s t i l i show the picture of D i c k W h i t t i n g t o n and his cat t h a t

itself is portrayed by B i l l y , the y o u n g narrator:

characterized the old native m i l k bar. T h e f o r m i c a - t o p p e d tables

The brackish air I was no authority on, except to say that when the wind was in a certain direction it smelled of burning paint. As for the honest native stone, our main street, Moorgate, was— despite the lying reminiscences of old men like Councillor Duxbury who remembered sheep-troughs where the X - L Disc Bar now stands—exactly like any other High Street in Great Britain. Woolworth's looked like Woolworth's, the Odeon looked like the Odeon, and the Stradhoughton Echo's own office, which Man o' the Dales must have seen, looked like a public lavatory in honest native white tile. I had a fairly passionate set piece ali worked out on the subject of rugged Yorkshire towns, with their rugged neon signs and their rugged plate-glass and plastic shop-fronts, but so far nobody had given me the opportunity to start up on the theme. . . . Along Market Street, where the new glass-fronted shops spilled out their sagging lengths of plywood and linoleum . . .

[Pp. 2 0 - 2 1 . ]

A m e r i c a n decoration is also apparent in the office of Shadrack, the progressive y o u n g funeral director f o r w h o m B i l l y w o r k s , w h o keeps his large executive, m e t a l desk free f r o m e v e r y t h i n g except a black ebony rul er. Shadrack looks f o r w a r d to the day w h e n ali coffins w i l l be made o f Fiberglas. B u t B i l l y himself does n o t deliver r i n g i n g protests against the insidious A m e r i c a n i z a t i o n of Stradhoughton. T h r o u g h o u t ali B i l l y ' s v i v i d fantasies ( a n d , as an incessant l i a r , B i l l y has a great m a n y fantasies), influences f r o m A m e r i c a n books and films are evident. B i l l y is fascinated by a cemetery t h a t reminds h i m of the neat campus in an A m e r i c a n college musical. He has i m b i b e d the r o m a n t i c i s m of the A m e r i c a n wanderer: " I can always get a j o b o f some k i n d , maybe washi n g - u p . I began to imagine m y s e l f in the t r a d i t i o n of A m e r i c a n w r i t e r s , d r i v i n g lorries, sweeping u p , South A m e r i c a n r e v o l u t i o n , soda j e r k , newspaper b o y " ( p . 1 4 9 ) . Stradhoughton has n o t absorbed the m a n y foreign influences

look odd in the old local p u b . A n d the contemporary elegance of the Disc Bar, the new record shop, has faded q u i c k l y : The cone-shaped ashtray stands, their bright yellow smudged with black, were already tilted, broken and abandoned. The showcases, which were supposed to hang in mid-air on steel wires, sagged and lurched so dangerously that they had to be propped up on old packing cases. One of them was broken, a great jagged crack going along one corner. There were scuff marks ali along the orange walls. [P. 90.] Perhaps the "brackish a i r " of Stradhoughton is too t h i c k to allow ali the infusions of image and decor f r o m the w o r l d o u t side Y o r k s h i r e . Keenly aware of the ludicrous m i x t u r e of the o l d , rugged Y o r k s h i r e t r a d i t i o n w i t h the new coffee bars and record shops, B i l l y , the adolescent, makes f u n o f the clashes o f experience he sees around h i m . The cliches of his straight-laced Y o r k s h i r e parents evoke f r o m B i l l y the l i t e r a l reply of the sharp-minded, as in the f o l l o w i n g dialogue w i t h his father: "Well you can bloody well and start coming in of a night-time. I'm not having you gallivanting round at ali hours, not at your bloody age." "Wfıo are you having gallivanting round, then?" I asked, the wit rising for the day like a pale and watery sun. [P. 9.] B i l l y and A r t h u r spend their t i m e at w o r k ( t h e y are b o t h clerks in the funeral office) designing comic routines t h a t m i x the native Yorkshire cliche w i t h the p l y w o o d and the Fiberglas, and B i l l y ' s great desire is to w r i t e scripts f o r a popular television comic. A r t h u r spends weekends c r o o n i n g A m e r i c a n popular songs in the R o x y Dance H a i l . In a w a y reminiscent of Kingsley A m i s ' heroes, b o t h B i l l y and A r t h u r are mimics. T h e y parody the broad Y o r k s h i r e accent o f C o u n c i l l o r D u x b u r y , the " G i m m e

of the postwar w o r l d v e r y gracefully. T h e espresso coffee bar

t w o cawfees" tone of the A m e r i c a n serviceman stationed in

exists, b u t the new glass plates are already t a c k y and the walls

E n g l a n d , the pompous and stereotyped advice they get f r o m

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their elders. B i l l y can seldom resist p a r o d y i n g the voice of anyone

creepıng

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ı ı 3

his lies t r a p h i m more and more, he retreats i n t o his private

he happens to be t a l k i n g to at the m o m e n t . "Waterhouse's comedy

fantasies: one fantasy centers on a set of sophisticated L o n d o n

is also A m i s - l i k e in the use of the q u i c k contemporary p o r t r a i t ,

parents w h o regard t r u t h a dreadful bore and t o l e r a n t l y m o c k

f u l l o f sharp and b i t i n g incongruities:

his adolescent excesses; the other fantasy takes h i m to A m b r o s i a ,

He was, for a start, only about twenty-five years old, although grown old with quick experience, like forced rhubarb. His general approach and demeanour was that of the second-hand car salesman, and he had in fact at one time been one in the south. He was in the undertaking business because his old man was in it before him and old Shadrack had been, so to speak, young Shadrack's first account. After that he rarely attended funerals and would indeed have found it difficult in view of the R . A . F . blazer and the canary-coloured pullover which, sported being the word, he sported. But he was useful to the firm in that, besides having inherited half of it, he could get round old ladies. He was a member of most churches in Stradhoughton and to my certaın knowledge was a card-carrying Unitarian, a Baptist, a Methodist, and both High and Low Church. [P- 33-]

a m y t h i c a l c o u n t r y in w h i c h he is w a r hero, p r i m e minister, famous comedian at the A m b r o s i a State Opera, and challenging companion of B e r t r a n d Russell. I n Stradhoughton B i l l y ' s lies never w o r k . T h e net o f discovery b y parents, bosses, and g i r l friends tightens more and more closely around h i m . Y e t B i l l y retains a respect f o r those w h o can understand his l y i n g and, w i t h o u t p o m p or preaching, c o n f r o n t h i m w i t h i t . For one m o m e n t h e respects O l d C o u n c i l l o r D u x b u r y , w h o m B i l l y had o f t e n made f u n o f and t h o u g h t incapable of n o t i c i n g a n y t h i n g , because the c o u n c i l l or k n o w s about the calendars and refrains f r o m a pompous lecture on the subject. B i l l y can also respect L i z , the o n l y one of his three girls w h o b o t h knows about and is p e r m i t t e d in A m b r o s i a . L i z never m o r a l izes about B i l l y ' s l y i n g . U n l i k e Barbara, the fiancee w h o is w h o l e -

A great deal o f the comedy, however, stems f r o m the p l o t . B i l l y

some, eats oranges, and wants a cottage w i t h w a l l - t o - w a l l carpets,

w o r k s himself i n t o impossible situations: he is simultaneously

or R i t a , the fiancee w h o w o n the Miss Stradhoughton contest,

engaged to t w o girls, w i t h a single r i n g t h a t alternates, t h o u g h

w o r k s in the espresso bar, and ahvays talks in cliches ( ' V h o l e

he's in love w i t h a t h i r d ; he constantly telis stories about a sister

sentences ready-packed i n a disposable t i n f o i l w r a p p e r " ) , L i z

or a dog or a job t h a t he doesn't have; he has hidden more

can appreciate w h a t B i l l y is: " W e began c h a t t e r i n g , eagerly

t h a n t w o h u n d r e d commercial calendars he was to have sent o u t

i n t e r r u p t i n g , l a u g h i n g , g r i n n i n g at each other as t h o u g h we k n e w

f o r the funeral f i r m , and he has never mailed the letter his

the whole joke about the w o r l d and understood i t " ( p . 9 4 ) .

mother w r o t e to "Housewives' Choice." T h e single day on w h i c h

B i l l y , t a l k i n g w i t h his mother just after his grandmother has

the novel takes place is the day of r e c k o n i n g . A l i B i l l y ' s decep-

died, can also recognize the person w h o rests behind the structure

tions, one after the other, are discovered ( m a n y have been k n o w n

of pat expressions and parental homilies.

f o r a l o n g t i m e , b u t B i l l y wasn't sure t h a t t hey were) and u n -

A w a r e t h a t the funeral office is no career and trapped by his

raveled. A n d the tremendous n u m b e r o f complications—the t w o

lies in Stradhoughton society, B i l l y considers leaving for L o n d o n .

engaged girls c o n f r o n t i n g each other, the director's revealing his knowledge o f the calendars ( a n d B i l l y ' s attempts t o get r i d o f the evidence), the discovery t h a t he has no sister or d o g — f o r m the f r a m e w o r k t h a t carries the comedy along. B i l l y began l y i n g to avoid the drab contradictions of Stradhoughton l i f e , b u t , as

He has had a letter f r o m the television comic g i v i n g a vague h i n t of possible p a r t i a l e m p l o y m e n t , w h i c h B i l l y has of course elaborated i n t o a certain promise of a j o b . For a m o m e n t L i z is even ready to go w i t h h i m . Y e t b o t h L i z and B i l l y realize t h a t he is n o t yet ready to define himself in L o n d o n , as L i z goes off to

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Doncaster and B i l l y returns home. i t ' s n o t t h a t B i l l y needs to face the consequences of his sin as a sort of m o r a l p u r i f i c a t i o n . Rather, B i l l y is st i li the adolescent, s t i l i unable to w o r k o u t the complexities of experience. D i f f e r e n t f r o m his parents, yet unable to assimilate the A m e r i c a n movies he's seen or the novels he's read, B i l l y needs t i m e to g r o w up and discover the l i m i t a t i o ns of his fantasy. No p u b l i c school code has f o r m e d h i m

(as it

AMERICANISM

115

It was time for the authorities to do something, to act, to investigate, to bring the whole suspicious business out into daylight. No honest man need fear investigation; it was a free country. It was a free country, people said; why were these sailors not arrested? It was a free country; they should be on trial, in prison, put out of the way. For piracy was a menace to freedom, which could not exist until ali the pirates were locked up. [Pp. 70-71.]

m i g h t have, s t i l i , had he been b o r n i n t o a different social or

A t the t r i a l o f the sailors other characteristics o f committees o n

economic class), no unanimous sense of native honesty among the

u n - A m e r i c a n activities are lampooned. The chairman of the

w o r k i n g classes protects h i m . T o f i n d himself i n the m i d s t o f

investigation insists t h a t the lawyer f o r the defense cannot speak

contemporary m u l t i p l i c i t y , B i l l y w i l l need ali his w i t , along w i t h

because the process is s i m p l y an investigation, b u t at the same

numerous trips to A m b r o s i a and back. L i k e the rootless and

t i m e he maintains t h a t the g u i l t y m u s t be punished. T h e chair-

w a n d e r i n g hero in a good deal of A m e r i c a n f i c t i o n , B i l l y is a

m a n also states: " W h e t h e r the sailors were on board or n o t , it

dislocated adolescent. K e i t h Waterhouse's novel illustrates, b o t h

cannot be denied t h a t they have since associated w i t h their c o m -

referentially and t h e m a t i c a l l y, an A m e r i c a n influence operating

rades, and it is already a m a t t e r p r o v e n in these Investigations

i n contemporary B r i t a i n . B u t b o t h M r . Waterhouse and his hero

t h a t association is the same as g u i l t " ( p . 1 3 1 ) . T h e characters

retain a sense o f h u m o r about i t , f o r B i l l y offers no declamatory

ali speak as if they were A m e r i c a n ; the falsifications of the i n -

pronouncements or dedications. He s i m p l y keeps his awareness,

vestigation in the local press are p u t in A m e r i c a n l i n g o . Recent

his w i t , his recognition o f the m u l t i p l i c i t y o f contemporary

A m e r i c a n h i s t o r y is the constant p o i n t of reference f o r Bowen's

British life.

universal theme.

A n o t h e r contemporary B r i t i s h novelist whose w o r k shows a

J o h n Bowen's other novels also make frequent use of A m e r i c a n

strong A m e r i c a n influence is John Bowen. Bowen's first novel,

references and A m e r i c a n themes. T h e w o r l d - w i d e flood t h a t

The Truth

Will Not Help

Us

(1956),

telis

the

story of

the

unjust execution on a charge of " p i r a c y " of three English seamen

provides the setting f o r the f u t u r i s t i c After the Rain

(1958)

begins w i t h an a t t e m p t to seed clouds in order to p r o v i d e r a i n

in a Scottish p o r t in 1 7 0 5 . T h e story of the seamen, their g r o w i n g

a r t i f i c i a l l y d u r i n g a l o n g d r o u g h t i n Texas. A n d the people w h o

u n p o p u l a r i t y in an alien p o r t , the ludicrous t r i a l they undergo,

survive the flood exist on G l u b ( " t h e ideal Breakfast Food: Y o u

is made parallel to the story of v i e t i m s of the illogical investi-

Need N o O t h e r " ) , a p r o d u e t o f the I n t e r n a t i o n a l U n i t a r i a n

gations condueted b y the late S e n a t ö r M c C a r t h y . T h e k i n d o f

Breakfast Food C o m p a n y . A n advertising conference i n Bowen's ( 1 9 5 9 ) , is f u l l of jargon

accusation by r u m o r and ignorance w h i c h M c C a r t h y i s m repre-

t h i r d novel, The Centre of the Green

sents is made, by Bowen, a social monstrosity t h a t can exist in

t h a t originated i n A m e r i c a : " r e t h i n k , " " m o t i v e w i s e , " " I f w e

m a n y times and places. B u t the specific locus, the constant

d o n ' t believe in Buttertoffs ourselves, we aren't l i k e l y to make

reference f o r this process of u n d e r m i n i n g h u m a n d i g n i t y , is in

the consumers believe in t h e m . " In Bowen's most recent novel,

A m e r i c a n terms. Bowen pokes f u n at the defense of ali injustice

Storyboard

under the appeal to the idea of the "free c o u n t r y . " W h e n the

guistic detail of the " f i n a l i z e d " concept or the q u i c k reference

( 1 9 6 0 ) , the A m e r i c a n influence is n o t just the 1in-

people in the Scottish t o w n begin to suspect the sailors, Bowen

to whether or n o t the character wants to do his conventional

parodies their reasoning:

year on fellowship to the U n i t e d States. T h e who!e novel is, f r o m

I I6

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one p o i n t of v i e w , a defense of advertising as a v a l i d p a r t of u r b a n capitalist society, a p a r t n o t necessarily more c o r r u p t or more dishonest t h a n any other. Bowen begins the novel w i t h an essay e x p l a i n i n g h o w the advertising agency w o r k s and p o i n t i n g o u t its role in contemporary society. T h e i n s t i t u t i o n of advertisi n g and its carefully reasoned and connected defense may be new i n B r i t a i n , b u t popular A m e r i c a n f i c t i o n has l o n g p r o v i d e d n u merous examples of the same theme and the same treatment. The l o n g i n t r o d u c t o r y essay seems i n c r e d i b l y nai've to an A m e r ican, just as, I suppose, a B r i t o n w o u l d react if some A m e r i c a n

CREEPING

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I 17

He was not an educated man himself, but he knew the value of it. He liked a good play on the radio, but had taken against the idea of television. He read the Daily Telegraph, the Sunday Times and the Reader's Digest . . . , and he found the Digest particularly valuable, because it was not only a good read in itself, but gave you something to talk about. He would never have thought of subscribing to the Digest for himself, he said, but they had found out about him somehow, and had written to him specially suggesting it. He had always been struck with the thoughtfulness of this, although of course it was in their own interest as well. [P. 4 8 . ]

novelist p r o u d l y proclaimed t h a t aH people, whether they meant to or n o t , really made distinctions on the basis of economic or social class.

As in this instance, the h u m o r often stems f r o m the i m p i n g e m e n t of a detail f r o m contemporary commercial society on an essen-

J o h n Bowen is n o t , however, s i m p l y a B r i t i s h w r i t e r devoted

t i a l l y older and more local c u l t u r e . J o h n Bowen also uses the

to A m e r i c a n references and themes. L i k e most of his B r i t i s h

comic list, the l o n g series of associated details t h a t reflect the

contemporaries, he makes c o n t e m p o r a r y references in order to

i n c o n g r u i t y o f contemporary l i f e , m u c h i n the manner o f

make a comic p o i n t . The Truth W ili Not Help Us, t h o u g h set

Kingsley A m i s .

i n ' 1 7 0 5 , is f u l l o f deliberate anachronisms, like references to television and photographs, t h a t satirize the w a y in w h i c h society formulates its opinions. Sometimes the satire is s t r i c t l y a c ont e m p o r a r y slap w i t h n o application t o the k i n d o f i n h u m a n i t y central to the n o v e l : It was a kind of New Statesman friendship—a marriage of the professional and the working classes, in an atmosphere of highmindedness and classical music with no physical contact whatever, except that sometimes they would hold hands. [P. 9 7 . ] Bowen also excels in d r a w i n g the q u i c k comic p o r t r a i t of a m i n ö r

In Storyboard, a character is l o o k i n g f o r a flat in L o n d o n and picks up a paper: Gloomily Ralph read the small advertisements on its back pages. A Socialist Guest House in Perranporth. A lady in Hampstead who wished to make a home for coloured students. A room and food in return for help with the children and instruction in Spanish. A large room in a Regency House overlooking the park, with a Study Circle that met on Fridays. Musical interests. Vegetarian interests. Cultural interests. Photographic interests. Theatre and Ballet. A gentleman with own car seeking another gentleman with whom to share a holiday in Andorra. [Pp- 8 7 — 8 8 . ]

character: the t i m i d English consul in The Truth W ili Not Help

In a l i his comedy Bowen sharply satirizes the h y p o c r i t i c a l or the

Us, w h o , w h e n he should defend his c o u n t r y m e n u n j u s t l y ac-

inconsistent. Storyboard, in p a r t i c u l a r , castigates the h y p o c r i t e :

cused, is concerned w i t h his wife's profession as a corsetiere, w i t h

the academic w h o talks piously of i n t e g r i t y w h i l e accepting the

n o t ruffling anyone's feelings or using harsh language, w i t h the

first profitable journalistic off er he can f i n d ; the "progressive"

local bus routes. M r . M o n n e y , the father of a sixteen-year-old g i r l

y o u n g m a t r o n w h o uses grandiose psychological terms to t r y to

w h o m one of the p r i n ç i p a l characters in The Centre of the Green

manage her friends and m a r r y t h e m off. H y p o c r i s y is one of the

has seduced, is another example. H e , a h a r d - w o r k i n g l a n d l o r d ,

elements B o w e n satirizes in his t r e a t m e nt of The Radical, a

is d e f t l y i n t r o d u c e d :

leftist periodical:

I I 8

CREEPING

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CREEPING

The Radical came out every week. It cost ninepence, and ran at a profit. Like the New Stat esman and Nation and the Spectator, it gave its front half up to political matters, its back to literatüre. Like them it had benefited from the decision of the big corporations and trade associations to advertise to what are called "opinion leaders," so that lucidly argued, passionately felt articles on the need for public ownership would be printed next to full-page advertisements composed in a documentary style, in which steelworkers told how they had bought their own houses and television sets and industrial journalists gave ex cathedra opinions that private enterprise and increased exports went necessarily together. [Storyboard, pp. 91-92.] T h e sharp blasts against any f o r m of hypocrisy indicate t h a t Bowen's p o i n t of view is moral and c o m m i t t e d as w e l l as comic. In After the Rain, Bowen's c o m m i t m e n t takes the f o r m of a protest against man's tendencies to m a n u f a c t u r e absolutes. In the flood t h a t covers the w o r l d in 1 9 6 6 , John C l a r k e and his mistress Sonya attach their d i n g h y to a large r a f t in order to survive. T h e r a f t , c o n t a i n i n g eight other people, is c o n t r o l l e d by a m a n named A r t h u r w h o meticulously rations food and tasks aboard. A r t h u r , at the b e g i n n i n g , is an agnostic; he relies on

AMERICANISM

I 19

to beget a new race. Indeed, why should they not do so, for that is what we are? . . . For their own self-respect as a people, they must remember us as greater than we are. [P. 15$.] A n d the other people, w i t h some reservations, begin to worship A r t h u r , first as leader, then as m y t h m a k e r , finally as God. A r t h u r himself begins to act as a god. He insists on worshi p , t u r n s w h a t has been r o u t i n e i n t o r i t u a l , makes himself masks so t h a t he cannot be c o n f r o n t e d d i r e c t l y , regards himself as a performer of miracles, calls his raft's l o g the "Sacred B o o k , " and even murders t w o men w h o are no longer useful f o r the s u r v i v i a l of the others. In his final madness A r t h u r changes again. He is no longer w i l l i n g to t h i n k of any m a n , even himself, as G o d . He feels he is o n l y the chosen emissary, t h a t G o d is a g i a n t squid they see in the water. A r t h u r demands t h a t Sonya's u n b o r n baby be sacrificed t o p r o p i t i a t e the s q u i d - G o d . A t this p o i n t the sane f i n a l l y r e v o lt and A r t h u r is k i l l e d at the end. B u t the course of A r t h u r ' s m a d ness is the course of superstitious m a n m a n u f a c t u r i n g a series of spurious absolutes, f r o m s a n c t i f y i n g his o w n efficiency and c o n t r o l to abasing himself before m y s t i c horrors he cannot c o m prehend.

man's conscious and rational activities to w o r k t h r o u g h the

A f t e r the protests against p o l i t i c a l and theological absolutes

difficult conditions of the flood. The agnostic w h o runs efficiency

i m p l i c i t in the first t w o novels, Bowen turns to a more d i r e c t l y

and the spiritual together is played off against the c l e r g y m a n , M r .

h u m a n statement of c o m m i t m e n t in his t h i r d novel, The Centre

Banner, w h o had become ordained because he had n o t done w e l l

of the Green. T h i s novel concerns the Baker f a m i l y : a retired

at a n y t h i n g other t h a n r o w i n g at the u n i v e r s i t y , and no i n s t i t u t i o n other t h a n the C h u r c h was w i l l i n g t o accept h i m . M r . Banner, pleasant and r a m b l i n g , is quite w i l l i n g to defer to A r t h u r . B u t A r t h u r , the efficient, the practical, the hardheaded, begins to be carried away by his o w n success. He starts to elevate his success to the status of m y t h : I have been thinking about the value of myth. We are, after ali, in a mythological situation. Our descendants w i l l remember us, not simply as the haphazard survivors of a great catastrophe, but as the founders, the chosen, the people who came out of the sea

colonel and his w i f e l i v i n g in a cottage in Devonshire; their son J u l i a n , m a r r i e d and w o r k i n g f o r a n advertising agency i n L o n d o n ; their son Charles, a single and lonely journalist. Each of the Bakers is essentially lonely and isolated f r o m the others. T h e colonel, relieved of active c o m m a n d and sent to I n d i a to r u n an officers' candidate school just at the b e g i n n i n g of the w a r , feels alone and useless, preserves himself t h r o u g h his miniscule r o u t i n e , his garden, his daily walks. H i s w i f e , w h o b r o u g h t up their sons d u r i n g the w a r , is n o w addicted to television. J u l i a n , always evasive and unable to face any h u m a n relationship, expresses his isolation b y a t t e m p t i n g to seduce any y o u n g g i r l he can find.

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121

A n d Charles, honest in his o w n isolation, tries to c o m m i t suicide

strokes t h a t J u l i a n has maliciously helped to perpetrate, the

because he is unable to feel a n y t h i n g deeply and finds no f u r t h e r

colonel is aware of style:

p o i n t in l i v i n g . Each character tries, in one w a y or another, to reach the others, b u t the a t t e m p t is either misunderstood or ineffectual. Bowen points o u t that some of the boys' difficulties originate in their mother's desperate c l u t c h i n g at them w h i l e the colonel was in I n d i a for f o u r years, b u t the c l u t c h i n g itself came f r o m her need, her o w n isolation, and, besides, t r a c i n g origins does n o t necessarily lead to cure. H u m a n personality, whatever the cause, is isolated in i n d i v i d u a l entities. The story of the Baker f a m i l y , determined by psychological forces, has m a n y parallels created by either psychological or sociological forces t h r o u g h o u t

Having children—going to Heaven—carving your name on the door of the bogs—everybody's ahvays trying to be immortal; it's a lot of nonsense. F i l teli you something. We live because we can't help i t , and we die because we can't help that either. If we had any choice, we wouldn't die, and we wouldn't be born. Makes chaps feel pretty small sometimes. No choice. Only thing we ever have any choice about is how we do things. You know—doing it w i t h style, and ali that. That's us—style. The rest is ali outside, and we can't control i t . Chaps ought to finish well. [P. 215.] T h e colonel does finish w e l l . A n d b o t h his sons can understand

the novel. T h e landlady w h o d r i n k s herself i n t o helpless indigence

this, can understand t h a t ali the h u m a n being can do is to do

after her husband dies, the g i r l Charles meets at the cinema w h o

things gracefully, t o t r y . A t the end o f the novel J u l i a n returns

w o u l d go to bed w i t h h i m simply because she has n o t h i n g else

to L o n d o n and his w i f e , n o t because his compulsion is cured, b u t

to do, the resolutely cheerful w i d o w the colonel meets on Majorca

because he is w i l l i n g to t r y to l i v e w i t h himself w i t h grace and

— a l i m i r r o r the loneliness central t o h u m a n l i f e . A s Charles

style. T h i s theme, central to the novel, is a more contemporary

realizes imagistically whe n, in order to preserve his o w n emotional

and domesticated version of the H e m i n g w a y code, the statement

detachment (his aim and his curse s i m u l t a n e o u s l y ) , he looks f o r

t h a t , in a w o r l d where he has no c o n t r o l ö v e r the central issues

silence in the heart of the noisy c i t y :

o f l i f e , death, and t r u t h , m a n must t r y t o live w i t h a s m u c h exterior grace and d i g n i t y as he can muster. T h e statement, in

I t was just a game to begin w i t h , just a device to pass the time. He surveyed the three corners of the Green, and drew an imaginary line bisecting each angle. Where the lines met, the centre would be. Of course, this imaginary calculation could not be exact, but if he were to take it as approximate, and cast around a little, perhaps he might happen on the silence, might fail into i t suddenly, that little bubble of silence in the exact centre of the Green. [Pp. 161-162.]

w r i t e r f o r The Radical. B o t h personally and professionally R a l p h

A n d , in the m i d s t of the loneliness, ali the characters realize t h a t

has betrayed Sophia, f o r he has personally sold and professionally

fairness and justice, the usual standards f o r h u m a n j u d g m e n t , are

distorted i n f o r m a t i o n Sophia gave h i m about advertising. A t

meaningless.

b o t h the early w o r k o f H e m i n g w a y and the w o r k o f J o h n Bowen, is a statement of b o t h man's l i m i t a t i o n and his h u m a n possibility. T h e use of style, the H e m i n g w a y code, takes a s l i g h t l y d i f ferent f o r m , a l t h o u g h it is equally central, in Storyboard. Here Sophia, the y o u n g w o m a n w h o w o r k s i n the advertising agency, has been disillusioned by R a l p h , the academic and h y p o c r i t i c a l

the end of the novel Sophia cannot change herself or the w o r l d

B u t in The Centre of the Green, despite the central v o i d , m a n

a r o u n d her, cannot relinquish the j o b she's good at on the basis of

does have some m e a n i n g f u l possibility. T h e colonel can c u l t i v a t e

some spurious hierarchy of values. She can o n l y keep on l i v i n g ,

his garden and his walks, although he cannot pass these on to

and w o n d e r :

his sons. T h e garden is one of the ways in w h i c h the colonel expresses himself, his style. A n d on his deathbed, as a result of

Could one help but be what one became? Perhaps a little but it would be difficult, and the effort would never be över, Was it

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worth it? Being something other than what one really was, that was just a pretence, just fake. But if there were bits of what one was that one didn't like, then one just had to pretend, and hope the pretence would stick. One had to keep on pretending, or else give in. [P. 230.] Sophia does pretend, and makes the conscious effort w i t h d i g n i t y

CREEPING

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123

deliberate a t t e m p t to seem as h u m a n and alive as possible. T h a t is w h a t d i g n i t y is. A l t h o u g h the sense of h u m a n d i g n i t y is central to Bowen's conception of h u m a n character, the characters do n o t always behave consistently. Even Colonel Baker, the w o r t h y m a n of style in The Centre of the Green, misjudges the plebeian M r .

and grace. She herself is personally and professionally ( a n d , in

M o n n e y ; he assumes u n f a i r l y t h a t M r . M o n n e y has come o n l y to

this novel, the personal and the professional keep r u n n i n g t o -

ext ract as m u c h money as he can. H e r e the stuffy pseudoaristo-

gether for ali the characters) c o m m i t t e d to l i f e .

crat Ieaps to the inaccurate conelusion t h a t the m a n f r o m a lower

T h e story of Sophia and R a l p h is constantly conneeted to the

class m u s t be a sordid blackmailer. Y e t B o w e n is, by no means, a

story of K e i t h , one of the j u n i o r executives at the ageney, and his

systematic defender of the virtues of the lower and m i d d l e

w i f e Sylvia. W h e n R a l p h t h i n k s of Sophia's career, K e i t h , in a

classes. T h e b l o o d t h i r s t y m o b riots, smashes cars and people, cries

scene exactly parallel, t h i n k s of h o w he m i g h t arrange a job for

o u t f o r hanging in The Truth

Sylvia to relieve the d r u d g e r y she feels as a Purley housewife.

l ower classes steal whatever they can f i n d and k i l i others t o

K e i t h and Sylvia, however, have been m a r r i e d f o r a n u m b e r of

ensure their o w n s u r v i v a l w h e n the flood begins in After the

years. Sylvia's pregnaney had forced her to give up teaching and

Rain. No group or class can p r o v i d e the measure f o r d i g n i t y or

forced K e i t h to earn more money by going i n t o advertising.

style. In fact, Bowen f r e q u e n t l y arranges a deliberate s w i t c h ,

Sylvia, neurotic, restless, u n h a p p y at the change in their lives

w o r k s things so t h a t the unexpected person represents the state-

the c h i l d caused, has never ceased resenting the child's demands,

m e n t of value in the n o v e l . In After the Rain, f o r example, it is

and has become increasingly subject to psychosomatic fatigue

n o t the intellectual n a r r a t o r , J o h n C l a r k e , w h o f i n a l l y opposes

and migraine. W h e n Sylvia's p e t u l a n t fatigue i n d i r e c t l y causes

and defeats the m y t h m a k i n g G o d - A r t h u r . Rather it is T o n y ,

Will Not Help

Us; most of the

the c h i l d to b u r n himself, and w h e n her subsequent incompetence

the simple y o u n g m a n w h o spends ali his free t i m e d o i n g cal-

causes the child's death, it w o u l d seem that Sylvia has n o t h i n g to

isthenics, flexing his museles and fishing, w h o has no theories

l i v e f o r , t h a t her marriage and her image of herself have b o t h

or capacity to create t h e m , w h o f i n a l l y revolts against the

been destroyed. B u t Sylvia realizes t h a t she must pretend, must

c r u e l t y and the abstraction o f the god. B o t h T o n y and G o d -

force her o w n c o m m i t m e n t to something:

A r t h u r are k i l l e d i n the struggle. A n d the intellectual narrator recognizes his o w n responsibility f o r his i n a c t i v i t y , k n o w s t h a t

The springs of the bed creaked. Human beings, however they might try to be dignified and romantic and ali that, spent so much of their time behaving like the characters of a dirty joke. It couldn't be helped, and it kept things going. Sylvia dabbed cologne on her neck and between the cleft of her breasts, and joined her husband in bed. One could do things in a cold way, but perhaps one got warm doing them. [Pp. 234-23 j . ] In the midst of a w o r l d in w h i c h no absolute or no theory w o r k s , John Bowen's characters are c o m m i t t e d to the pretense, the

his o w n doubts, his o w n intelligence, had rendered h i m ineffeetual i n comparison w i t h T o n y the b o d y b u i l d e r : But Tony had not been worried by doubts. His horizons were not large; his ambitions were limited. He performed the simple discipline of his exercises; he gave to other people a wide tolerance and respect; he made no moral judgements outside the simple estimate of right and wrong that he applied to himself. Tony was not a noble savage. On the contrary, he fitted very well into a society, asking no more than that it should give him work to do,

124

CREEPING

AMERICANISM

CREEPING

respect his privacy, and not require him to do anything that he believed to be wrong. [P. 202.] As soon as a character veers t o w a r d too great a s i m p l i f i c a t i o n , too abstract a d e f i n i t i o n , as here the idea of the "noble savage," Bowen steers h i m away. F r e q u e n t l y Bowen lampoons the c u l t u r a l abstraction,

the

AMERICANISM

125

a living witness, in a world grown corrupt and compliant, that reason and the principles of humanism stili had meaning (and a little force) and that it was not yet too late, if only people would take heed, for society to reform itself on lines that were not now exactly Marxist, and certainly not Benthamite, but generally in accordance w i t h enlightencd and sensible opinion as far as it could be collated. [Pp. 92-93.]

k i n d of cliche i m p l i c i t in the characterization of a whole group or class of people. In Storyboard, f o r example, the "progressive"

T h e exaggerated rhetoric, the pointed q u o t a t i o n f r o m Auden's

young

poem, and the u n d e r l y i n g positive approach ali echo the strong

couple

think

themselves

truly

radical

because

they

embrace capitalism, c o m p l a i n i n g o n l y that capitalism is some-

belief of the liberal of the 'thirties, a phenomenon t h a t Bowen

times so inefficient. Bowen spends a good deal of the novel sat-

here mocks as dated and h y p o c r i t i c a l . The Radical, Bowen goes

i r i z i n g The Radical and the people w h o subscribe to i t :

on to p o i n t o u t , is interested o n l y in facts t h a t f i t w i t h its preestablished opinions.

Most of The Radical's readers bought it because they had always bought it and its arrival on the doormat every Friday was a reassurance that they stili held the liberal opinions they knew they ought to hold, but which their way of living ( i f they allowed themselves to think about i t ) might seem to belie; these did not actually get time to read The Radical, and placing this week's number in the contemporary magazine rack were often horrified to find last week's number stili there unlooked-at. But simply to subscribe to The Radical was for them a sign that they had not sold out, and was worth the ninepence. Other, younger readers, who spent their time more recklessly, bought it as a supplement to the Sunday papers, and read it ali. A n d there were stili a few readers who found in The Radical a connection to others of their kind. Separated though they might be, some in Newcastle, some in Dudley, in Grimsby and in Greenwich, in Tunbridge Wells and in Tiverton, probation ofücers, personnel relations officers, teachers, district nurses, dentists, solicitors, keepers of museums, industrial consultants— Yet, dotted everywhere, Ironic points of light Flash out wherever the Just Exchange their messages:

A n d , late in

the

novel,

The Radical's

v i o l e n t l y slanted expose of advertising is completely ineffectual, f o r the fuss it creates alIows the company to achieve its c o m mercial aim far more easily t h a n it w o u l d otherwise have done. T h e venerable and dedicated i n s t i t u t i o n f r o m the recent past is h o l l o w , p h o n y , and inept. S i m i l a r l y , i n defending advertising, B o w e n is reversing the usual occupational generalization. The voice of t r u t h in Storyboard is t h a t of a diffident and prissy bachelor w h o has w o r k e d f o r the advertising agency, w i t h o u t brilliance o r d i s t i n c t i o n , f o r t h i r t y years. A n d the usual banteri n g of terms l i k e " i n t e g r i t y " and " c o r r u p t i o n " is questioned, examined, t u r n e d around. Bowen's iconoclasm always hits o u t against the expected abstraction, always preserves the i n d i v i d u a l and the h u m a n f r o m the simplification of the general social explanation. A l i f o u r of John Bowen's novels are v e r y consciously and carefully structured. The Truth Will Not Help

Us begins w i t h

an account of the charges against the seamen; shifts i n t o a series of vignettes t h a t show the g r o w i n g fear, the c r u e l t y , and the lack of logic among the townspeople; breaks i n t o a series of three ease histories t h a t demonstrate the origins of the rootless and asocial careers of the three seamen; and then f i n a l l y coheres in

—and for these (for whom The Radical had first been founded) it was a mine of fact, a buttress of opinion, another eye to see by,

the parody of the ludicrous t r i a l . B u t the structure is stiff and b l o c k y , a k i n d of set exercise in contrivance. T h e f u t u r i s t i c

126

CREEPING

AMERICANISM

CREEPING

AMERICANISM

127

novel, After the Kain, begins w i t h the Biblical metaphor of the

o u t the novel, connect one character to another, one story or

w o r l d - w i c l e flood. I n a manner somewhat l i k e t h a t o f W i l l i a m

one p r o b l e m to another. B u t here the mechanism is an essential

G o l d i n g , Bowen attempts to use the conventional metaphor in

p a r t of the novel, f o r the characters are connected b o t h by

order to reproduce the essential conditions of man's position. B u t

cloudbursts and by the loneliness c o m m o n to ali men. T h e

the metaphor is less unique and less s t r i k i n g t h a n those of

constant superficial l i n k i n g of externals is itself an image of the

G o l d i n g . A n d , as Bowen develops his account of h u m a n a n t h r o -

w o r l d , a necessary mask f o r the essential loneliness of h u m a n

p o m o r p h i s m , the metaphor itself matters less and less. G o d -

personality. Theme and technique merge. The novel is n o t artis-

A r t h u r and the sane bodybuilder could battle anywhere, and the

t i c a l l y perfect: f o r example, Bowen occasionally uses t h i c k and

relevance of the B i b l i c a l metaphor is never made a central p a r t of

heavy-handed imagery, l i k e the repeated reference to the vicar's

the novel. B o t h these novels, despite i n d i v i d u a l passages of great

accidental b r e a k i ng of the bronze c h r y s a n t h e m u m at the funeral

w i t and sharpness, are s t r u c t u r a l l y overloaded. T h e contrivance

of the agnostic, gardening, a u t u m n a l colonel. B u t , f o r the most

of l i n k i n g the t w o couples in Storyboard, the constant shifts

p a r t , the technique adequately presents the material of the novel.

f r o m one couple to another at precisely the same m o m e n t , also

The Centre of the Green, despite its expression of a k i n d of

seem l i t e r a l and mechanical. T h e narrative is, too o f t e n , a series

H e m i n g w a y code, also exhibits less A m e r i c a n influence t h a n do

of parallel points, t h o u g h the novel gains emphasis f r o m essays

the other novels. Here Bowen uses fewest A m e r i c a n references,

like those at the b e g i n n i n g and at the end w h i c h defend the

fewest set or s l i g h t l y disguised essays t h a t explain the problems

role o f the advertising agency i n c o n t e m p o r a r y society. A l i

of contemporary Western society. T h e novel has significantly

three of these novels are too l i t e r a l , as if references, points of view, iconoclasms, and attitudes have ali hardened around the experience of the novel and w i t h e r e d i t . A m e r i c a n i s m , too, in reference and in subject m a t t e r, is p a r t of the hardened casing, part of the series of deliberate and mechanical impositions t h a t s u r r o u n d the clever and humane centers of the novels. T h e attack on the illogical c r u e l t y of an investigating committee, the careful account of the place of advertising in commercial society, the texture of A m e r i c a n reference and j o k e — a l i are, t h o u g h often contemporary and pungent, somehow stiff and excessively l i t e r a l , set exercises t h a t seriously reduce the effectiveness of Bowen's writing. O n l y The Centre of the Green does n o t suffer f r o m its n o v e l istic paraphernalia. A g a i n , the structure of the novel is very carefully c o n t r i v e d : each of the p r i n c i p a l characters is i n t r o duced; b o t h brothers are b r o u g h t f r o m L o n d o n d o w n to D e v o n shire at the same t i m e ; the same cloudburst ( i n a w a y that seems to owe a good deal to Joyce's Ulysses) figures in the separate, b u t parallel, experience of each character. C a r e f u l l i n k s , t h r o u g h -

one less i m p e d i m e n t to the artistic presentation and value of the humane.

JOHN

WAIN'S

FİCTİON

129

jobs as w i n d o w washer, smuggler, hospital o r d e r l y , chauffeur, and bouncer in a shoddy n i g h t c l u b . T h r o u g h o u t his wanderings Charles maintains t h a t his a i m is to escape ali i d e n t i f i c a t i o n w i t h class. Discovering himself can o n l y be impeded by any class

8

designation. Even t h o u g h he washes w i n d o w s , he is aware h o w foolish it w o u l d be to regard himself as p a r t of the w o r k i n g class:

The Moral Center of John VVain's Fiction

FEW

thematic

CONTEMPOARY

c o m m i t m e n t so

BRITISH

WRITERS

consistently

as

ILLUSTRATE

A

does J o h n "Wain.

T h r o u g h o u t W a i n ' s first f o u r novels and his one v o l u m e of short stories runs a constant c o m m i t m e n t to the value of the i n d i ­ v i d u a l and the personal, a constant assertion of the d i g n i t y of the

He thought, as he leaned on the parapet of the town's bridge and watched the tiny brown river drifting beneath it, of ali the expensive young men of the thirties who had made, or wished to make, or talked of making, a gesture somewhat similar to his own, turning their backs on the setting that had pampered them; and how they had ali failed from the start because their rejection was moved by the desire to enter, and be at one with, a vaguely conceived People, whose minds and lives they could not even begin to imagine, and who would in any ease, had they ever arrived, have made their lives hell. At least, Charles thought with a sense of self-congratulation, he had ahvays been right about them, right to despise them for their idiotic attempt to look through two telescopes at the same time: one fashioned of German psychology and pointed at themselves, the other of Russian economics and [Pp. 3 7 - 3 8 . ] direeted at the English working class.

h u m a n being. A l t h o u g h f r e q u e n t l y describing and satirizing a w o r l d of chaotic f o l l y , each of the novels contains a central state­

Charles often seeks to b u r y himself in occupation or m e d i t a t i o n

m e n t of the m o r a l w o r t h of the i n d i v i d u a l . These statements are

or w i t h a simple g i r l in one of m a n y similar simple houses, to

complacent

resist any of the badges of status by w h i c h Englishmen recognize

excuses f o r a n y t h i n g m a n happens to do. O f t e n they are backed

one another. On the other side, those w h o c o m m i t themselves to

i n t o i r o n i c a l l y , and always they are carefully l i m i t e d and

class, w h o judge others and define themselves by the class struc­

defined against a b a c k g r o u n d in w h i c h an ideal or a l l - c o n s u m i n g

t u r e , are satirized most p o i n t e d l y t h r o u g h o u t the novel. Burge,

neither

grandiose

and

pious

generalizations

nor

m o r a l i t y leads to ridiculous pretense. Y e t the statement of man's

a y o u n g doctor w h o had k n o w n Charles at the u n i v e r s i t y and

w o r t h , qualifîed and l i m i t e d as it m a y be, gives b o t h coherence

w h o finds h i m w o r k i n g as a hospital o r d e r l y , is p o r t r a y e d as b o t h

and d i r e c t i o n t o J o h n W a i n ' s f i c t i o n .

vicious and i d i o t i c . He attacks Charles d i r e c t l y :

John W a i n ' s

first

novel

(published as Hurry On Down in

B r i t a i n i n 1 9 5 3 and, perhaps t o underline the o u t m o d e d B r i t i s h class structure, as Born in Captivity in A m e r i c a in 1 9 5 4 )

*

S

mock-picaresque. T h e hero, Charles L u m l e y , leaves the u n i v e r s i t y and journeys t h r o u g h c o n t e m p o r a r y B r i t a i n , h o l d i n g successive

"That sort of work ought to be done by people who are born to it. You had some sort of education, some sort of upbringing, though I must say you don't bloody well behave like it. You ought to have taken on some decent job, the sort of thing you were brought up and educated to do, and leave this bloody slop-empty-

130

JOHN

WAIN'S

FİCTİON

ing to people who were brought up and educated for slopemptying. . . . You're bloody well not catching me out w i t h your smart questions. It's necessary, and so is emptying bloody dustbins," cried the educated man, "but there are some classes of society that are born and bred to it, and ours isn't. If you take a job like that, you're just " he fumbled among his small stock of metaphors, and brought out the inevitable, "letting the side down. A n d I don't like people who let the side down." [P. 1 7 4 . ]

JOHN

WAIN'S

FİCTİON

13 i

escape down a blind alley, and it had taken a crack-brained me­ chanic, a nymphomaniac, and a deranged careerist to show him that. As ever, the serious point had emerged through the machinery of the ludicrous. His life was a dialogue, full of deep and tragic truths, expressed in hoarse shouts by red-nosed music-hall comics. [P. 223.] N o w , w o r k i n g f o r the radio comic, Charles can preserve his a n o n y m i t y as one of seven, avoid the pressure of social d e f i n i t i o n t h a t p o v e r t y demands, and retain sufficient leisure and independ-

Charles himself is occasionally i n c l i n ed to make m i n ö r versions of the same mistake. W h i l e w o r k i n g as a chauffeur, he gets to k n o w his employer's son, a boy interested o n l y in motorcycles, differentials, and valve seats. Charles asks the boy if he w o u l d n o t rather have been the son of a garage mechanic t h a n the heir to a w e a l t h y industrialist. B u t the boy w o n ' t b i t e; he k n o w s

ence to realize b o t h w h a t he is and w h a t others are. In other words, Charles i r o n i c a l l y finds that he can best retain the personal and the humane in the m i d s t of a h i g h l y organized and c o m mercial w o r l d . A n d the d i g n i t y o f the personal and the humane is the m o r a l value he has been seeking t h r o u g h o u t his j o u r n e y . He even t h i n k s of his search in terms of a m o c k allegory:

t h a t garage mechanics can have a p r e t t y routine t i m e p u m p i n g p e t r o l and, besides, he wisely refuses to define his genuine interests i n terms o f e n v i r o n m e n t . Y e t Charles can neither ignore nor resign f r o m society. Each of his jobs is i n v o l v e d w i t h society and carries some sort of class i d e n t i f i c a t i o n. At times, as when he smuggles narcotics i n t o the c o u n t r y t h r o u g h his w o r k as a d r i v e r of cars f o r e x p o r t , Charles realizes t h a t he is dependent on the h i g h l y materialistic society he

The young man (Hopeless) breaks out of the prison of Social and Economic Maladjustment; he carries on his back a hundredweight of granite known as Education. After a skirmish with the dragon Sex, in which he is aided by a false friend, Giant Crime, he comes to the illusory citadel called Renunciation of Ambition. And so on. [Pp. 233-234.] T h e g a g - w r i t i n g job is, however, n o " K i n g d o m o f H e a v e n . "

sought most carefully to avoid. In the paradoxical situations he

Charles's o w n intelligence, as w e l l as the comic means of presen-

w o r k s himself i n t o , Charles keeps t h i n k i n g of a line f r o m a

t a t i o n , carefully l i m i t s the range of value. F r o m an exterior p o i n t

poem he has read: " A n d I a twister love w h a t I abhor." I r o n i c a l l y ,

of v i e w , in fact, the job establishes Charles as p a r t of the c o m -

Charles f i n a l l y discovers himself as one of a stable of seven gag-

mercial m i d d l e class to w h i c h , because of his t r a i n i n g and educa­

m e n f o r a radio comic. He had realized earlier t h a t he could f i n d

t i o n , he honestly belongs. B u t Charles's j o u r n e y and acquired

o n l y p a r t i al t r u t h s in u n l i k e l y places, f o r his attempts to seek

insight, rather t h a n an automatic or inherited designation, have

the simple h u m a n virtues in a simple setting had ali been spoiled

earned h i m the r i g h t to keep the job and to w i n the expensive

by hidden complexities. W h e n leaving his superficially i d y l l i c

prize w o m a n .

job as chauffeur at the industrialist's Hampshire house, Charles had mused: The people he belonged w i t h were i l i , disgusting, unsuccessful, comic, but stili alive, stili generating some kind of human force. This expensive bucolic setting had offered nothing more than an

Edgar Banks, the hero of W a i n ' s second novel (Living in the Present, 1 9 5 5 ) , also requires a journey, although this one is n o t consciously picaresque, in order to discover a reason f o r l i v i n g . A t the b e g i n n i n g o f the novel Edgar, f i n d i n g n o value i n his society and feeling he belongs to the "second generation of u n i -

132

JOHN

WAIN'S

FİCTİON

versal agnosticism," resolves to c o m m i t suicide. B u t even at this p o i n t of skepticism, Edgar makes choices on m o r a l grounds, f o r he decides t h a t before k i l l i n g himself he w i l l r i d the w o r l d o f the most loathsome creature he knows. Characteristically, he chooses a snide, class-conscious Neo-Fascist as his v i c t i m . T h e process of t r a c k i n g his v i c t i m takes Edgar f r o m L o n d o n to Switzerland and I t a l y . Despite ali his elaborate plans, however, he is unable to k i l i either his v i c t i m or himself. Something intervenes at every crucial m o m e n t i n a p l o t t h a t mocks the serialized cliff hanger, and Edgar's automatic response is to preserve l i f e . He is about to k i l i his v i c t i m w h e n he sees a repulsive c h i l d he k n o w s c l i m b i n g a tree t h a t leans dangerously ö v e r a steep precipice. He cannot resist y e l l i n g o u t a w a r n i n g , a w a r n i n g t h a t b o t h saves the c h i l d and alerts Edgar's chosen v i c t i m . He is also unable to crash the

JOHN

WAIN'S

FİCTİON

I 33

of some tangible substance. In the presence of this man, the selfishness, the isolation, the foolish theatricality of his original idea stood out revealed. [Pp. 176-177.] T h r o u g h T o m a n d even more t h r o u g h Catherine ( f o r the novel ends w i t h a Standard r o m a n t i c c o u p l i n g o f Edgar a n d C a t h e r i n e ) , Edgar f i n a l l y finds his o w n meaning f o r abstractions l i k e " g o o d ­ ness," "honesty," and love. He also learns t h a t these qualities are o f sufficient w o r t h t o j u s t i f y l i v i n g i n the f u t u r e . The Contenders ( 1 9 5 8 ) , W a i n ' s t h i r d and best novel, projects the theme of personal value i n t o a wi der area of English society. A narrator, r u m p l e d , f a t , easygoing Joe Shaw, telis the story of his t w o schoolmates, R o b e r t L a m b , the artist, and N e d Roper, the businessman, and their rise to prominence in post W o r l d W a r I I E n g l a n d . Each struggles t o achieve more t h a n the other,

car, as planned, in w h i c h he is d r i v i n g his v i c t i m ö v e r a m o u n t a i n

yet b o t h depend on the soundness and the s i m p l i c i t y of Joe

road. W h i l e in p u r s u i t Edgar maintains that he is f o r the first

Shaw, w h o s t i l i w o r k s on the nevvspaper in the g r u b b y p o t t e r y

t i m e " l i v i n g in the present," open to ali emotions and reactions,

t o w n ali three o f the characters came f r o m . A l t h o u g h W a i u

b u t u n c o m m i t t e d to any scheme or course of conduct beyond

ridicules b o t h complete subservience to A r t as a k i n d of mystical

t h a t o f r u b b i n g o u t his v i c t i m and himself. B u t i n I t a l y Edgar

goddess, and the reverence f o r material success so prevalent in

meets T o m , an o l d f r i e n d he has always admired, and Catherine,

society, neither art nor business in itself is his p r i n c i p a l target.

T o m ' s g i r l f r i e n d . Edgar realizes t h a t some people, w i t h o u t

Rather, he attacks the spirit of c o m p e t i t i o n t h a t motivates b o t h

illusion or false gods, get beyond the present:

the artist and the businessman, a s p i r i t instilled by parents,

Something was terribly wrong w i t h the plan he had been working on. It simply wouldn't do. Standing dumbly by Catherine's side, an empty glass clutched nervously in his hand, he struggled to drag the thing upwards into consciousness. What had happened? That evening in London, when he had begun to live in the present, everything had seemed settled. He had formed his plan, and ıt had seemed a magnificent one, complete and satisfying. N o w , w i t h swift and absolute certainty, he knew that it was so no longer. A really artistic suicide, balanced by a farewell present to life: why had it seemed good then, why did it seem bad, small and empty now? T o m Straw came bearing the answer in his face, carrying it w i t h the strength of his square body, across the room towards him. He was scowling irritably, but the central core of his goodness and honesty was as plain to Edgar's vision as if it had been made

teachers, ali of society. A n d the hero, Joe Shaw, is s i m p l y the m a n in whose clouded chemistry the i n j e c t i o n of c o m p e t i t i o n d i d n ' t happen to take. C o m p e t i t i o n , the desire to excel, leads to a k i n d of i n v o l u t e d egotism and represents the slavish and u n t h i n k i n g adherence

to

commercial

and

middle-class

values

which

is

examined, in one w a y or another, in ali W a i n ' s fiction. Joe Shaw, w h e n t a l k i n g w i t h N e d Roper and Stocker, another c o m p e t i t o r w h o is eager o n l y to seduce as m a n y w o m e n as he possibly can, realizes the k i n d of simplification of experience to w h i c h the c o m p e t i t i v e s p i r i t leads: I began to see where I was. It was useless, plainly, to argue with either of them, because they were both committed to what was, fundamentally, the same position. They both saw women not

134

J O H N

WAIN'S

FICTION

J O H N

as people but as instruments. Stocker saw them as instruments of pleasure, Ned as instruments of prestige. Stocker's argument was crude, Ned's—on the surface—more subtle. But in either ease there was only one way of bringing them round, and that was to get them to see a woman as a person. But what was the good? If I were to teli Ned that an unsuccessful, obscure and unambitious man might find himself a wife who, as a human being, was as good as anyone available for the most famous and powerful—what good would that do? [P- I 4 0 2

WAIN'S

FİCTİON

135

deception and m u l t i p l e i n f i d e l i t y finds each character chasing some image of r o m a n t i c f u l f i l l m e n t . Each t h i n k s his o w n y e a r n ings and his o w n difficulties unique, b u t , as George is shown by his f r i e n d Captax, each story fits the same rather sordid design o f people t r y i n g t o avoid the boredom o f f i d e l i t y . A n d Captax himself is the m a n w h o later deludes himself i n t o t h i n k i n g t h a t he has f o u n d his unique romance w i t h George's w i f e . George finally realizes t h a t he misses his w i f e ' r gentleness and concern, t h a t a single and permanent relationship means more to h i m

Allegiance to the competitive spirit forces b o t h N e d and Robert

t h a n t r a n s i t o r y tangles i n a w o r l d o f i n f i d e l i t y . I r o n i c a l l y , i t i s

to l i m i t themselves to w h a t is visible and acceptable in society.

C o w l e y , the husband of George's mistress, a m a n used to dis-

N e d , the urbane, polished businessman, keeps his private fantasy,

a p p o i n t m e n t because he'd lost his religious

a vast model railroad system t h a t he can c o n t r o l completely,

writing

locked in a p r i v a t e r o o m in his house. The railroad represents

gives George the m e s s a g â :

a

best seller called

f a i t h just after

The Discovery of Faith, w h o first

b o t h his escape f r o m society and his desire f o r c o n t r o l , b o t h hidden behind a calm, respeetable f a ç a d e . S i m i l a r l y , Robert's art acquires the veneer of b r i t t l e acceptability as he becomes more successful, w h i l e his aeting o u t of artistic postures prevents h i m f r o m h o l d i n g a w o m a n . T h e preoccupation w i t h success, a preoccupation handled w i t h deadly i r o n y w h e n Robert gives a toast to "Success" at the p u b l i c celebration of Ned's w e d d i n g to his glamorous f o r m e r w i f e , keeps b o t h R o b e r t and N e d f r o m g e t t i n g beyond the axioms of their society. Paradoxically, Joe Shaw, superficially far more l i m i t e d , is able to break t h r o u g h the l i m i t a t i o n s of society because he is n o t racing against a c o m ­ petitive phantom. In his first three novels W a i n used the hero's romance at the end to indicate his awareness of h u m a n value. In contrast, his fourth

novel,

A

Travelling

Woman

(1959),

works

I've only just recovered from something like the same state of disorganization that you're stili in. Mine took the form of an in­ tellectual quandary, and to some extent it had intellectual causes, but the differences aren't as important as the resemblances. I wasn't fit to keep my end up in normal human life, any more than you are. My particular kind of disorganization didn't lead me into petty disreputability, as yours has led you, but that's just a difference of temperament. It led me to something worse. After ali, it's a peculiar kind of hell to have a wife like Ruth and know that you're not providing her with the kind of love and happiness that she must have. . . . it's something you wouldn't understand, because you don't know, yet, what it is to give your whole allegiance to one person. When you do, you'll be able to imagine what real love is, and then you'll also have an inkling of what genuine failure can be. [Pp. 154—155.]

entirely

w i t h i n terms o f sexual and r o m a n t i c relationships. A t the begin­

B o t h George and his w i f e recognize t h a t they m u s t give their

n i n g a y o u n g married m a n , George L i n k s , bored w i t h his y o u n g

"allegiance to one person," as C o w l e y recognizes t h a t he must

w i f e , arranges f o r a weekly consultation w i t h a L o n d o n psyehi-

remain loyal to his best seller and its implications even t h o u g h

atrist simply as a means f o r h a v i n g an affair w i t h some other

he no longer believes it is true. T h e h u m a n being is too l i m i t e d ,

w o m a n . Friends in L o n d o n encourage h i m and help h i m find a

b o t h personally and i n t e l l e c t u a l l y, to handle the freedom t h a t

suitable w o m a n , while one of t h e m uses the ensuing complications

his powers of logical analysis suggest. He must stick to his

to begin an affair w i t h George's w i f e . The p l o t of m u l t i p l e

c o m m i t m e n t s , n o t because they represent some exterior value

136

J O H N

WAIN'S

FİCTİON

J O H N

or t r u t h in themselves, b u t because m a n is too feeble to do w i t h o u t t h e m . Man's nature, n o t some abstract law, requires m a r i t a l fidelity. A s

in

Hurry

On

Down,

Wain

uses

WAIN'S

FİCTİON

137

descension. The personal and the emotional are more difficult and more i m p o r t a n t .

mock-allegorical

W a i n ' s m o r a l statements are i n v a r i a b l y grounded in the c on­

terms for his m o r a l fables. W h e n George, repentant, is first

t e m p o r a r y English scene. A l i the novels contain sociological

rejected by his w i f e , he t h i n k s of the carpet he is standing on as

deseriptions of houses populated by different classes, of d i n g y

the "Slough of Despond." Such references, handlcd comically,

streets of similar s t r u n g - o u t shops w h i c h lead o u t of i n d u s t r i a l

underline the differences between t r a d i t i o n a l C h r i s t i a n m o r a l i t y

cities, o f one k i n d o f squalor i n g r i m y p o t t e r y t o w n s , o f another

and the far more secular k i n d of m o r a l i t y t h a t W a i n presents.

k i n d of squalor in mews flats in Chelsea. A n u m b e r of the short

B u t the p i l g r i m s progress ali the same.

stories even depend p r i m a r i l y on sociological accounts of c o n ­

M a n y o f the short stories i n the v o l u m e called Nuncle ( 1 9 6 0 )

t e m p o r a r y phenomena: the emotions in the k i n d of love affair on

revolve around similar m o r a l themes. T h e y o u n g " m o n s t e r " i n

w h i c h " t h e refîned m o o n o f K e n s i n g t o n " shines i n " R a f f e r t y , "

"Master R i c h a r d " (the awareness of a m a n of t h i r t y - f i v e housed

the w a y the y o u n g television repairman tries to i m p ı e s s the

in the body of a five-year-old) develops elaborate and demonic

Swiss au pair g i r l in "Christmas at R i l l i n g h a m ' s . " A l t h o u g h

plans to c o r r u p t the personality of a younger brother, b u t the

references to specific places and to specific attitudes w i t h i n

plans are foiled because the y o u n g e t brother quite s i m p l y loves

society are constant t h r o u g h o u t W a i n ' s fiction, there is some

h i m no matter w h a t he does. Personal love can vanquish ali the

change in the values assigned. In the first t w o novels the m o r a l

f o r m u l a t i o n s o f the intellect. T h e O x f o r d student w h o narrates

p o i n t involves a k i n d of acceptance of the d o m i n a n t patterns of

" A Few D r i n k s w i t h A l c o c k and B r o w n " tries t o push aside any

c o n t e m p o r a r y society. B o t h Charles L u m l e y and Edgar Banks,

t h o u g h t of the g i r l he has just j i l t e d and the unopened letter

a l t h o u g h they find a great deal to satirize and castigate, end by

f r o m her in his pocket w h i l e he involves himself in ludicrous

accepting, at least on the outside, the k i n d of class and social

exterior events concerning the impersonation of a w e l l - k n o w n

role demanded by their t i m e , place, and t r a i n i n g . B o t h have

novelist and the d u l l discussion between a D u t c h m a n and a Swede

learned that genuine value is p u r e l y personal; b o t h have acquired

about an A n t w e r p prostitute. B u t the narrator, w h i l e deliberately

sufficient insight to realize t h a t a social position expresses o n l y

immersing himself in the t r i v i a l events going on in the p u b ,

the o u t l i n e of a person; b u t b o t h s t i l i accept, f o r its l i m i t e d

doesn't really fool himself. It is the personal that matters:

w o r t h , the expected social position. W a i n ' s t w o later novels, on the other hand, p r o v i d e a more searehing e x a m i n a t i o n of the

Drinking the rest of his beer, Benlowes thought of this thrush, and had a sudden intuition that it had been the only real thing in his life, and that saying good-bye to Ellen meant saying goodbye to the thrush and everything that the thrush meant. [Nuncle, p. 52.]

society.

In b o t h

The Contenders and

A Travelling

Woman,

the

d o m i n a n t patterns of c o n t e m p o r a r y society are rejected in favor of the value of an older, more local, t r a d i t i o n . George L i n k s must abandon the w h i r l o f meaningless i n f i d e l i t y i n c o n t e m p o r a r y L o n d o n and r e t u r n to his local suburb.

T h e y o u n g c h i l d i n " A Message f r o m the P i g - M a n " can get a

The Contenders, in p a r t i c u l a r , asserts the value of localism,

straight answer f r o m the m a n w h o collects garbage, and the

the t r a d i t i o n a l English v i r t u e of r e m a i n i n g elose to one's o r i g i n a l

answer allays his childish fears. B u t the child's attempts to under­

surroundings. A large share of Joe Shaw's w o r t h is based on the

stand his mother's divorce, his questions about w h y his father no

fact t h a t he has never really left the p o t t e r y t o w n he grew up

longer lives w i t h t h e m , meet o n l y evasion and affectionate c o n -

i n , has n o t become c o r r u p t e d by the cosmopolitan influences of

138

JOHN

WAIN'S

FİCTİON

JOHN

WAIN'S

FİCTİON

139

L o n d o n . A l t h o u g h aware of the town's m a n y l i m i t a t i o n s , Joe is

severely reduced by the consistent presentation of h i m as an i n -

f o n d o f i t . H e attributes m u c h o f Robert's artistic a b i l i t y t o the

sufferable pedant. E v e n in the midst of a relevant argument he

fact t h a t Robert had been b o r n and b r o u g h t up there:

cannot resist c o r r e c t i n g a f r i e n d by p o i n t i n g o u t the g r a m m a t i c a l difference between " i m p l y " and " i n f e r . " A n d Joe Shaw is made

I hadn't realised, yet, that the only reason England has any in­ tellectual and artistic life at ali is because men like Robert aren't reared in London. They take their originality with them, and London consumes it ali and gives them nothing back. It's because the provinces accept dreariness that London can boast of its brilliance. [P. 49-]

fat, elaborately casual, indifferent, and, as his f r i e n d R o b e r t once charges h i m d i r e c t l y , more a spectator of t h a n a p a r t i c i p a n t in h u m a n experience. T o w a r d the end of the novel Joe changes. He t h r o w s away his pipe, becomes more active, registers emotions himself instead of merely understanding those of others. Y e t his o r d i n a r y , l u m p i s h character has been so carefully established that

A n d R o b e r t himself, w h e n his w i f e leaves h i m and he's at his

the change does n o t make h i m i n t o a heroic figüre. In a d d i t i o n ,

most depressed, returns to the p o t t e r y t o w n w i t h Joe in order

because his inactive, p r o v i n c i a l , simple qualities have been re-

to recover his talent and his sanity at their source. Joe's mother,

garded as valuable and i m p o r t a n t in the novel, the whole issue

w h o supplies an excessive dose of the k i n d of wisdom and silent

of heroism seems o u t of place. H u m a n character is too contradic-

understanding f o u n d in the provinces, also looms t h r o u g h o u t

t o r y , too difficult, and too l i m i t e d to allow a w o r d like " h e r o "

the novel. She says l i t t l e b u t she is never deluded. M a n is best,

t o apply.

in W a i n ' s f i c t i o n , w h e n he sticks w i t h w h a t he knows and can

I n fact, although W a i n demonstrates the value and the i m -

handle, w h e n he avoids the pretense i m p l i c i t in the cosmopolitan

portance of the humane, he also indicates t h a t it is often difficult

and the universal. In the same w a y , the na rra t or of Hurry On

to understand and explain w h a t the h u m a n personality is l i k e .

Down, w h e n meeting a g i r l

Joe Shaw, f o r ali his h o m e - g r o w n perception, is f r e q u e n t l y baffled

friend's f a m i l y , can

respect her

working-class father w i t h his pre-1914 habits and manners, b u t

by w h a t he sees in the people around h i m and, at several points,

does n o t respect her younger brother w h o slurs his speech w i t h

abandons f u t i l e attempts t o communicate w i t h others o r w i t h

smart A m e r i c a n locutions and prides himself on his commercial

himself. Edgar Banks in Living in the Present o f t e n cannot u n ­

success and his American-style cigarettes. A f o r m of localism,

derstand his o w n reaction, and wonders w h y i r r a t i o n a l fears

a s t i c k i n g to w h a t "one was b o r n t o , is, in the midst of a w o r l d

attack h i m whenever he tries to carry o u t his p l a n . Several of

becoming r a p i d l y less local, sometimes the best w a y to retain

the short stories c o n f r o n t the m y s t e r y at the depths of h u m a n

i n d i v i d u a l w o r t h and d i g n i t y .

personality even more c e n t r a l l y and d i r e c t l y , using the develop-

B u t localism is itself a confined and l i m i t e d value, a value t h a t

m e n t of a k i n d of madness as the representation of ali t h a t can­

by its very nature must rule o u t a good deal of possible h u m a n

n o t be understood. T h e m a n - b o y in "Master R i c h a r d " has to

experience in order to assert or establish itself. It is almost more

c o m m i t suicide at the end of the story because he cannot under­

a means of p l a y i n g safe t h a n an i n d i c a t i o n of value. S i m i l a r l y ,

stand ali the intricacies of his strangely displaced personality. In

W a i n ' s heroes are l i m i t e d , are carefully established as nonheroic.

another story, " N u n c l e , " the narrator, a f o r m e r w r i t e r n o w

Honest and direct as Charles L u m l e y sometimes is, he also runs

d r i n k i n g himself t o death, tries t o reestablish himself b y m a r r y -

away f r o m a n y difficult situation as, for example, w h e n he

i n g a placid y o u n g g i r l and m o v i n g i n t o her peaceful c o u n t r y

cov/ers in the lavatory of the t r a i n rather t h a n speak w i t h the

cottage. Q u i t e i r r a t i o n a l l y , he fears his f a t h e r - i n - l a w w h o shares

parents of an o l d schoolmate. George Links's heroic stature is

the cottage w i t h t h e m . T h e narrator tries t o w r i t e again, b u t

140

JOHN

WAIN'S

JOHN

FİCTİON

cannot. A t the same t i m e the f a t h e r - i n - l a w begins t o w r i t e stories, and the t w o arrange a deal whereby he w i l l w r i t e stories under the narrator's w e l l - k n o w n name. B u t the practical arrangem e n t leads to a gradual s w i t c h in i d e n t i t y ; each begins to assume the character of the other and the poor once placid g i r l doesn't k n o w w h a t k i n d o f allegiance belongs t o w h i c h m a n . F i n a l l y the na rra t or must r u n off to preserve w h a t he can of himself, before

WAIN'S

FİCTİON

14 i

w h o gave his fiancee a w a t c h ; Mirabelle suggests they a l i s w i t c h f r o m w i n e to black coffee; on the j u k e b o x record, Bessie S m i t h sings about a faithless lover; Edgar creates a fantasy in w h i c h he defends M r . Crabshaw i n a m u r d e r t r i a l . A H these g o o n s i m u l ­ taneously, w i t h o u t any connections, i n a w o r l d i n w h i c h w h a t one says or t h i n k s has l i t t l e relationship to w h a t others are t h i n k i n g or saying.

i d e n t i t y and personality have been completely swallowed u p . T h e

T h e diversity of the w o r l d t h a t confronts m a n is also d e m o n -

values of the h u m a n , the l i m i t e d , and the local are n o t abstractly

strated b y the k i n d o f comic and incongruous image W a i n

perfect choices; t hey are, rather, the o n l y sane possibilities in the

f r e q u e n t l y uses. Charles L u m l e y t h i n k s he's in love, and "his

m i d s t o f psychological complexities t h a t the h u m a n being o n l y

heart l u r c h e d ö v e r and ö v e r in his breast l i k e a cricket ball lobbed (Hurry On Down, p . 2 0 ) . One g i r l

barely comprehends. Deliberate l i m i t a t i o n , at least, allows some

along a d r y , b u m p y p i t c h "

measure of c o n t r o l .

looks at another "as if she were a gall-stone on a X - r a y p l a t e "

John W a i n f r e q u e n t l y uses comedy as another means o f l i m i t -

(P- 5 4 ) . and then the g i r l t u r n s to look at Charles: "She ran her

i n g and defining the values he asserts. M a n y scenes in the novels

eyes ö v e r h i m . H i s spine felt l i k e a r o w of c o t t o n rcels s t r u n g on

are farcical. In Hurry On Down, Charles, somewhat d r u n k in a

a w i r e . T h e n the w i r e became red h o t and melted and the c o t t o n

p u b , ofFers a m a n a l i g h t and sets fire to his mustache. In another

reels clattered to the g r o u n d " ( p . 5 5 ) . T h e contemporary and

p u b , later in the novel, Charles and his f r i e n d are first c o n t i n u a l l y

mechanical images continue i n W a i n ' s other w o r k :

i n t e r r u p t e d and t h e n d r i v e n o u t c h o k i n g and gasping f o r breath by the " g h o u l i s h " smoke f r o m a simple clay pipe. Such scenes are described in enormous and spiraling detail, as are the scenes, in Living in the Present, in w h i c h Edgar tries to prevent a d r u n k e n

She was wearing leopard-skin trousers and a pair of ear-rings that could have done duty on the front axle of a Ferrari. Her Iow-cut blouse revealed a cleft between her breasts big enough to hold a bundle of firewood. [Living in the Present, p. 241.]

Scots poet f r o m d r i n k i n g a b o t t l e of poisoned b r a n d y meant f o r someone else (the unconsumed b o t t l e is finally b r o k e n ) , or in w h i c h Edgar begins t e l l i n g his employer, ö v e r the telephone, w h y he's n o t c o m i n g to w o r k and ends w i t h a fantastic story about v o m i t i n g in a telephone box and being hauled off by the poliçe. A l t h o u g h the later novels c o n t a i n relatively less farce, C a p t a x '

In the silence that followed, we thought of London, the impossible London of the provincial adolescent, the smoky swamp full of jewelled toads, the dirt-track where racing taxis full of millionaires skid together in a shower of sovereigns, the pallid aviary of bank notes flapping their wings in time to the cunning chimes of Big Ben. [The Contenders, p. 39.]

first meeting w i t h George's w i f e is m a r k e d by an incessantly r i n g i n g telephone t h a t makes his efforts as

a sophisticated

seducer and deceiver seem ridiculous. T h e farce demonstrates the ludicrous q u a l i t y of man's a t t e m p t to seem more in c o n t r o l of his

And with that I set up a fit of coughing that sounded like a concrete-mixer running away down a steep hill. [Nuncle, p.

163.]

surroundings t h a n he actually is. A n o t h e r comic device t h a t

T h i s k i n d of image underlines b o t h the comedy and the localism

W a i n uses is the conversation at cross-purposes. At one p o i n t in

of W a i n ' s prose. At times the comedy is even more severely

Living in the Present a g r o u p of people are s i t t i n g around a table

local, as in the images dependent on reference to fashionable

in a Swiss cafe. M r , Crabshaw is t r y i n g to t e l i a joke about a m a n

academic figures such as W i l l i a m Empson, logical positivists, and

142

JOHN

WAIN'S

JOHN

FİCTİON

WAIN'S

FİCTİON

143

F . R . Leavis. T h i s k i n d o f comedy, discordant, contemporary,

The parenthetical stage direetions in the second passage seem to

energetic, and often extremely f u n n y , is occasional and decora-

show o n l y t h a t Charles is aware of w h a t is being i m p l i e d by the

t i v e rather t h a n central t o the k i n d o f statement W a i n i s m a k i n g .

person he's speaking w i t h , an awareness already apparent in the

Y e t the frequent comic image and the comic means of presen-

n o v e l . S i m i l a r l y , in A Travelling Woman, George L i n k s takes

t a t i o n help to l i m i t the range of the statement, help to prevent

several pages to define a n d categorize, i n f a i r l y S t a n d a r d terms,

the values endorsed f r o m soaring i n t o absolutes.

every feature of the w o m a n he is p u r s u i n g . T h e artifice is some­

J o h n W a i n , as demonstrated in his book called Preliminary

times too m u c h f o r the material i t should present. Living in the

Essays and in his frequent reviews, is an excellent l i t e r a r y c r i t i c ,

Present, organized around Edgar's p l a n to c o m m i t justifiable

i n t e l l i g e n t , perceptive, and able to analyze and explain w h a t he

m u r d e r and suicide, u l t i m a t e l y breaks d o w n because the g i m -

sees clearly and cogently. Some o f his c r i t i c al f a c u l t y has w o r k e d

m i c k , the artifice, is too heavy and too static and tends, by the

its w a y i n t o his fiction, f o r attitudes and points of v i ew are

end of the novel, to squelch the sense of experience and discovery

explained and documented w i t h significant and c o n t e m p o r a r y

central to the novel.

detail. H i s observations are accurate and m e a n i n g f u l , his per-

Each of W a i n ' s first three novels ends w i t h the hero, l i m i t e d

ceptions are i n t e l l i g e n t l y explored and demonstrated. B u t , if his

and restricted as he is, finding himself and his place. In each the

f i c t i o n contains m a n y o f the virtues o f good l i t e r a r y c r i t i c i s m , i t

hero also gets the g i r l as prize. In one w a y this k i n d of e n d i n g

also contains some of the attendant faults. Sometimes W a i n over-

seems sentimental;

explains, or repeats a crucial p o i n t several times, as, f o r example,

seems a l i t t l e too pat and soft. Y e t the value, the m o r a l center of

i n the frequent reiteration o f the f o l l y o f self-suffkiency t h a t

W a i n ' s w o r k , is, i n its insistence o n the d i g n i t y o f the humane

the equation

between value

and

reward

dissolves the relationship between T o m and Catherine in Living

and the personal, a sentimental value. In a w o r l d where m a n has

in the Present. T h e prose itself can be d r o w n e d by r e p e t i t i on

l i t t l e understanding and less c o n t r o l , he can at least make personal

or by elaborately accurate stage direetions, as in the t w o f o l l o w -

choices and at least recognize w h a t and where he is. T h i s is es-

i n g passages f r o m Hurry On Down:

sentially a sentimental doctrine because the choices and the rec-

"I s'pose you've heard ali about George's success," said Mr. Hutchins; his voice was bright and confident, but with a curious undertone of bewilderment and pathos. "He's got a Fellowship," he added, using the strange word in inverted commas, grafting it like some strange twig on to the stunted trunk of his artisan's vocabulary. [P- *3-]

o g n i t i o n are endowed w i t h more e m o t i on t h a n they s t r u c t u r a l l y or logically w a r r a n t . M a n , as W a i n sees h i m , is a creature f u l l o f complex and reverberating emotion. D e p o s i t i n g ali this on the carefully l i m i t e d and the personal is almost b o u n d to seem sentimental, to seem as if the happy romance at the end is an unjustifiable gesture. W a i n ' s attempts to avoid s e n t i m e n t a l i t y have n o t been n o t a b l y successful. T h e accidental resolution of

"I suppose you wanted to speak to Father" (thank Heaven at least she did not refer to the yellowed scarecrow as "Daddy"), "now that you've taken your degree you'll be wanting to put everything into a bit better order, I suppose." (An oblique, but not too oblique, reference to his haphazard approach to life.) "He's been wondering when you'd show up." (Implying that he had been skulking out of the way of his responsibilities.) [P. 17.]

A Travelling Woman, the simple mistake in i d e n t i t y t h a t prevents George L i n k s f r o m g o i n g off w i t h s t i l i another w o m a n , o r the i r o n i c switches obviously fabricated to save some of the short stories f r o m s e n t i m e n t a l i t y, are s i m p l y reversals t h a t do n o t alter the sentimental content. W a i n ' s comic devices are often too b r i t t l e , too decorative, and too occasional to prevent the w e i g h t

144

JOHN

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of the e m o t i o n f r o m seeping t h r o u g h . W a i n needs a richer, more central k i n d of comedy, a f u n d a m e n t a l perspective t h a t can h o l d the l i m i t e d and local value w i t h o u t seeming to invest it so heavily w i t h e m o t i o n . Perhaps Joe Shaw shouldn't have a mother, or perhaps the simple I t a l i a n g i r l should really w a n t to set up an espresso bar in the p o t t e r y t o w n ; at any rate, some w i d e r aesthetic use of comedy seems necessary. For the k i n d of p o i n t W a i n is m a k i n g about the c o n t e m p o r a ry w o r l d t h a t he depicts w i t h such s p e c i f k i t y , force, and intelligence, he does require some tangible expression of the value of the personal and the humane. B u t the f o r m of expression often lacks a comic richness t h a t w o u l d avoid b o t h the b r i t t l e g i m m i c k and the heavy sediment of e m o t i o n .

Angus VVilson's Oualifıed Nationalism

A N G U S W I L S O N HAS DEALT W I T H A

WIDE RANGE

AND

v a r i e t y of contemporary experience. He has developed several different techniques in becoming, in his last three books, the most s k i l l f u l and comprehensive novelist w r i t i n g i n E n g l a n d today. Because m a n y of his w o r k s seem to originate f r o m , t h o u g h n o t to reproduce, earlier w o r k s , I should l i k e to examine his developm e n t in a r o u g h l y chronological order. A n g u s Wilson's first t w o volumes of published short stories {The Wrong Set, 1 9 4 9 , and Such Darling Dodos,

19J0)

contain

a good m a n y scathing p o r t r a i ts of B r i t i s h society. Most of the stories depict, w i t h precision and detachment, the delusions and the pretense under w h i c h people operate. In m a n y stories char­ acters reveal, although they do n o t a d m i t , the hatred they feel f o r those they l i v e w i t h ; f r e q u e n t l y the character's behavior contradicts his professed attitudes or codes. W i l s o n often satirizes his characters sharply, as in " C r a z y C r o w d , " where he shows the egotism and the emotional self-indulgence of a c o u n t r y f a m i l y t h a t prides itself on its difference f r o m others, its u n c o n v e n t i o n a l i t y , its j o l l y "craziness." T h e satire is presented t h r o u g h the clash o f different points o f v i e w , and, i n m a n y o f Wilson's early

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stories, ali the material is developed in the same w a y . In " E t D o n a Ferentes," for example, the a t t r a c t i o n between the middle-aged father of a f a m i l y and a y o u n g Swedish boy staying w i t h the f a m i l y on an exchange v i s i t is developed t h r o u g h a series of i n t e r i o r monologues, as the father himself, his w i f e , his sharp o l d m o t h e r - i n - l a w , his bookish son, his adolescent daughter, and even the callous y o u n g Swedish boy alternate in v i e w i n g the events at a f a m i l y picnic. People, in Wilson's stories, seldom understand one another. In " W h a t do H i p p o ' s Eat?" a seedy middle-aged m a j ö r , w i t h o u t money or j o b , takes his shrewd, y o u n g Cockney landlady to the zoo f o r a day's v i s i t . Each has plans for the other: the m a j ö r is t r y i n g to c h a r m his landlady i n t o g i v i n g h i m money to set up a business; the landlady, f u l l y aware of his incompetence and shallowness, s i m p l y wants to keep h i m for his tarnished c h a r m w i t h o u t investing any money i n h i m . T h e relationship between the t w o can w o r k o u t , b u t o n l y i f each deludes himself about the other's motives. W h a t goes on on the surface is rarely matched by the motives or the attitudes of the people i n v o l v e d . W h e n Wilson's early stories are more dependent on p l o t , the p l o t is usually a simple reversal. A y o u n g m a n of t w e n t y - f i v e feels enormously rebellious w h e n confronted w i t h his mother's hearty protection, b u t he feels t e r r i b l y lost and lonely wh e n she dies. A y o u n g research student feels a great s y m p a t h y for her middle-aged professor w h o is, she feels, imprisoned by a dissatisfied and alcoholic w i f e . T h e student insists on p r o b i n g the t r u t h of the situation and m a k i n g the older couple acknowledge i t , b u t , in the process, the professor himself, n o t his w i f e , is destroyed. In s t i l i another story an elegant couple w h o pride themselves on their humane liberalism cannot act on their h u ­ mane principles w h e n c o n f r o n t e d by the wife's m i l i t a r y , exprisoner brother. Social grace takes easy precedence ö v e r p r i n ­ ciple. On the whole, these stories, dependent on simple reversals or on crashing hypocrisies, even t h o u g h d e f t l y done, show W i l s o n at his weakest and trickiest. These early stories are also permeated w i t h a k i n d o f naked malice t h a t w o r k s b o t h ways, b o t h w i t h i n

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and t o w a r d the character concerned. A successful businessman ruthlessly takes ö v e r the management of an art gallery, and W ı l son ruthlessly exposes h i m . In another story ( " T o t e n t a n z , " w h i c h appears in both of the first t w o volumes) a y o u n g academic w i f e u t t e r l y fails to become the L o n d o n social success she planned. H e r failure receives no compassion, either f r o m the author or f r o m the wives of her husband's former Scottish colleagues. The Scottish wives, in t u r n , judge her mercilessly and are themselves mercilessly judged by the author. T h e whole story, done w i t h precision and sharpness, is a r a d i a t i n g r i n g of concentric malice. N o t ali Wilson's early stories deal w i t h B r i t i s h society since the end o f W o r l d W a r I I . One story, " U n i o n R e u n i o n , " describes the feelings of a couple r e t u r n i n g to colonial society in South A f r i c a i n 1 9 2 4 , h a v i n g spent the previous t w e n t y years i n E n g l a n d . L o o k i n g at their relatives w h o have remained colonials, the couple b r i l l i a n t l y document, in a page or so, the colonial feelings of pride, fear, and racial anxiety t h a t occupy D o r i s Lessing f o r about a t h i r d of a n o v e l . A n o t h e r story, "Saturnalia," is c o n ­ cerned w i t h the social and personal tensions at a N e w Year's Eve p a r t y t o b r i n g i n 1 9 3 2 a t a South Kensington hotel. W i l s o n f r e q u e n t l y deals w i t h the historical or the sociological generali z a t i o n . In "Such D a r l i n g Dodos," a f a d i n g dandy, l o y a l to his " h a p p y c h r o m i u m - p l a t e d 1 9 2 0 ' s , " is always uneasy w h e n he visits his scholarly and progressive relatives, creatures of the serious 1 9 3 0 ' s , in O x f o r d . B u t on his last visit the dandy is pleased to discover that his o w n attitudes, his skepticism about learning and progress, have returned t o fashion i n O x f o r d after W o r l d W a r I I . H e can n o w patronize his more sober relatives. T h e historical and sociological p o i n t plays a relatively larger p a r t in Wilson's most recent collection of short stories, A Bit Off the Map ( 1 9 J 7 ) . One story, " A Fiat C o u n t r y Christmas," shows t w o y o u n g married couples w h o t r y t o avoid their p o l i t i c a l d i f ferences as they get together for a Christmas d r i n k . B u t behind the p o l i t i c a l differences is o n l y the nothingness of the new, postw a r housing estates, and one of the m e n ends the evening in tears of desperation. In another story a y o u n g contemporary

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w o m a n w h o wants b o t h security and excitement must choose between her stuffy, t h o u g h dependable, husband in p u b l i s h i n g and their lodger, an irresponsible and dishonest, t h o u g h appeali n g , w r i t e r . T h e y o u n g w o m a n , made representative o f m a n y y o u n g w o m e n in the 1950's, has a short affair w i t h the lodger, b u t remains w i t h her husband. T h e stories in this volume, t h o u g h s t i l i w r i t t e n w i t h enormous economy and p o i n t , are b o t h less t r i c k y and less s i m p l y malicious t h a n those in the first t w o volumes. T h e t i t l e story traces a y o u n g , retarded denizen of the coffee bars as he listens to conversations assailing society w h i c h he is unable to comprehend and as he dedicates himself to discoveri n g " T r u t h . " U s i n g a n u m b e r o f different points o f view and satirizing demonically " a n g r y y o u n g m e n " along the w a y , W i l s o n shows h o w the feeble-minded boy is led to seek his " T r u t h " b y k i l l i n g a strange o l d m a n o n Hampstead H e a t h i n the m i d d l e of the n i g h t . Y e t here the m u l t i p l e points of view y i e l d a c o m b i n a t i o n of h o r r o r and compassion. S i m i l a r l y complex is another story called " A f t e r the Show." In this story an intelligent seventeen-year-old Jewish boy, the o n l y member of the f a m i l y w h o is available, is called suddenly w h e n his uncle's mistress tries to c o m m i t suicide. T h e boy attempts to c o m f o r t the mistress, imagines himself a hero, b u t really learns f r o m her a good deal of the pain and loneliness of experience. T h e y are able to c o m municate, b u t the next day the g i r l is stili a "mistress" and the b o y s t i l i an a w k w a r d adolescent, t h o u g h they remember their t a l k the n i g h t before. C o m m u n i c a t i o n is p a r t i a l , m o m e n t a r y , yet it does exist. O t h e r stories, such as " T e n Minutes to T w e l v e , " deal w i t h the questions of government and of attitudes t o w a r d p o l i t i c a l and social power. Wilson's fictional w o r l d in A Bit Off the Map has become wider and more emotionally complicated. T h e theme of conflict between generations representing different social and p o l i t i c a l ideas, central to stories like "Such D a r l i n g D o d o s " and " T e n M i n u t e s to T w e l v e , " is also the central issue of "v/ilson's play, The Mulberry Bush (first produced in 195 j and published in 19$6). In the play an o l d liberal couple,

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NATİONALİSM

149

a r e t i r i n g master of an O x b r i d g e college and his w i f e , w a t c h as their f a m i l y degenerates i n t o a smooth, c r i c k e t - p l a y i n g , headprefect y o u n g barrister and a g u i l t y , frightened y o u n g g i r l . In a d d i t i o n, ali the o l d couple's w o r t h y projects, b o t h p u b l i c and private, t u r n sour. T h e mastership is to be handed ö v e r to a cold, rising f u n d raiser; the German refugee they supported and trained c r u e l ly calculates his o w n material g a i n ; the social w o r l d of tolerance and r a t i o n a l i t y they t r i e d to create is impossible; their w o r t h y son, an eminent social scientist n o w dead, had a secret mistress f o r years and once u n j u s t l y fired a m a n and r u i n e d his career. T h r o u g h o u t the play eminent figures topple f r o m their pedestals and circle, like everyone else, around the m u l b e r r y bushes of their o w n egos. At the end of the play the old m a n realizes that even his tolerant liberalism has been, in a w a y , a manifestation of his o w n ego, and has in part created the misery, the coldness, and the unhappiness his children and g r a n d c h i l d r e n face. B u t , given the fact that ali people are, to some degree, locked w i t h i n their o w n egos, W i l s o n shows a good deal of s y m p a t h y f o r the o l d couple w h o t r i e d to form ul a te a k i n d of liberal and rational code for h u m a n behavior. No codes w o r k , b u t the outmoded liberal code, a k i n d of vague Fabian socialism m i x e d w i t h the advocacy o f b i r t h c o n t r o l , equal rights for ali colors and races, and homes for u n w e d mothers, is, at least, more humane and more concerned w i t h others than are the p u r e l y self-seeking attitudes of the c u r r e n t generation. A n d one g r a n d c h i l d , the y o u n g g i r l , along w i t h a y o u n g history don she intends to m a r r y , is able to recognize the k i n d of tolerance and h u m a n i t y represented by the old code. The play, however, is not effective. It is excessively t a l k y , sometimes d u l l , and the symbols of the pedestal and the m u l b e r r y bush burst incongruously i n t o the fabric of the t a l k . T h e play also, in t r y i n g to parallel public and private issues, o f t e n falls i n t o melodramatic contrivance. Wilson's subtle conneetion o f personal m o r a l i t y w i t h public position requires a f o r m less s t r i k i n g and obvious t h a n the drama. Wilson's conneetions, o f t e n understated, are i n t e r i o r , and seem to require

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the m u l t i p l e perspectives and the careful shaded relationships among w h a t one t h i n k s and says and does w h i c h the novel f o r m provides. A n g u s W i l s o n is p r i m a r i l y a novelist. H i s first novel, Hemlock and After, was published in 1952. L i k e m a n y of his short stories, it f r e q u e n t l y details character in terms of sociological and his­ t o r i c a l reference. For example, James, the pompous barrister w h o is the son of the novelist hero, Bernard Sands, is t i c k e d off as one of those w h o enjoy w a l l o w i n g in the new rage for A n o u i l h ' s period 1913 plays. A n o t h e r character, a huge and vicious c o u n t r y w o m a n w h o tries to b l a c k m a i l the hero, gives large parties where everyone gathers sentimentally around the piano to sing "Pack U p Y o u r T r o u b l e s " and " T h e W h i t e Cliffs o f D o v e r . " A more complex character, Bernard's sister, is also characterized almost entirely in terms of history. A spinster professor w h o teaches English, although she feels t h a t l i t e r a t ü r e is less i m p o r t a n t t h a n " L i f e , " retains, in 1951, an u n s w e r v i n g allegiance to the cause of the Spanish Loyalists. She never grumbles about r a t i o n i n g and deplores the new conservatism of the L o n d o n School of Economics. Bernard himself, a successful novelist engaged in g e t t i n g the government to use a stately home as a place where y o u n g w r i t e r ' s can, at government expense, be free to w r i t e , also t h i n k s of his friends and his career in historical terms. He has a circle of friends f r o m the 1920's, some h i g h in the government, w h o chat about art and theater at mannered c o c k t a i l parties; he recalls his progressive friends and p l a t f o r ms f r o m the 1930's, t h i n k i n g of t h e m as rather " d o w d y remnants"; he travels in the smart and flippant w o r l d o f contemporary theatrical h o m o sexuals, although he avoids the hard, smart w o r l d of advertising and fashion magazines in w h i c h his daughter is engaged. Y e t Bernard is n o t s i m p l y a p u b l i c f i g ü r e . H i s a t t e m p t to set up the government scheme to support y o u n g w r i t e r s is endangered by his o w n personal behavior. Since his w i f e , Ella, lapsed i n t o a k i n d of psychotic w i t h d r a w a l and indifference some years earlier ( a n d he feels g u i l t y about t h a t , t o o ) , Bernard has had t w o homosexual affairs, and exposure of his behavior threatens

ANGUS

WILSON's

NATİONALİSM

15i

at one p o i n t to u n d e r m i n e the p u b l i c project. In a d d i t i o n , Bernard, as a homosexual and a p u b l i c figüre, feels enormously g u i l t y w h e n he witnesses a y o u n g m a n arrested for c r u d e l y soliciting h i m in Leicester Square. In other words, Bernard is r i d d l e d by conscience in a constant effort to make the p u b l i c and the pri va te sides of his behavior fit each other, to be responsible, humane, and inclusive. Bernard's effort to understand, to help, to sympathize, is n o t c o m m o n to ali people. H i s son, James, f o r one, mocks h i m : Ali this universal understanding, this Dostoyevskeyan emotional brotherhood, and, at bottom, he had nothing but utter contempt for nine-tenths of humanity; as for the other tenth he probably hated their guts for not being susceptible to his patronage. Thank God, thought James, he never aimed at understanding humanity. Indeed, the whole appeal of the law, his forte as a barrister, lay in his belief in justice. If people were too weak or too stupid to cope with life as it was, they had to be taught. [P. 21.] A l t h o u g h Bernard's home for w r i t e r s is established as he wants i t , despite misunderstanding and h o s t i l i t y at the opening cerem o n y , and although Bernard is able to convince a fey y o u n g f r i e n d t h a t he o u g h t to live independently, the conclusion is far f r o m victorious. Bernard, always t r o u b l e d w i t h conscience about his acts and their motives, worries himself i n t o a fatal heart attack. A n d , w i t h i n a year the w r i t e r s at the home themselves choose to have it administered by a professional administrator (one of the things Bernard feared most) s i m p l y to save t i m e and t r o u b l e . T o w a r d the end of Bernard's struggle Ella recovers f r o m her psychic w i t h d r a w a l and actively helps h i m . T h e y examine their past, and realize t h a t they have significantly failed to help b o t h their c h i l d r e n . Perhaps pri va te failure is part of the price of p u b l i c eminence; Bernard has never been able to manage c o n t r o l ö v e r b o t h the personal and the p u b l i c sides of his nature simultaneously. A l t h o u g h the theme of various c o n f l i c t i n g responsibilities is never f u l l y w o r k e d o u t (Bernard's sister's conversion to his p o i n t of v i e w at the end seems g r a t u i t o u s ) , Wilson's

I 52

ANGUS WILSON's N A T I O N A L I S M

statement of the problems c o n f r o n t i n g the p u b l i c f i g ü r e in con­ temporary society reaches, even in this first novel, a c o m p l e x i t y and a degree of t h o u g h t f u l , i n d i v i d u a l examination far beyond that demonstrated in the more famous Lewis E l i o t series by C. P. Snow. Hemlock and After is n o t , however, w i t h o u t flaws. Some of the incidents, like the arrest in Leicester Square and the at t em pt to seli a placid y o u n g v i r g i n to the local architect, are made excessively melodramatic. T h e disastrous opening-day ceremony is prepared for w i t h a l o n g and ominous i n t r o d u c t i o n w h i c h o u t lines the action t h a t is shortly to take place. T h e e v i l w o m a n w h o selis y o u n g v i r g i n s and w h o tries to use b l a c k m a i l to defeat Bernard's scheme is semisymbolic in a novel w i t h o u t other s y m bolic content. T h e novel also contains a good deal of the naked malice evident in Wilson's early stories: one whole chapter, in the center of the novel, appropriately called " C a m p Fire Cameos," consists of a series of c a t t y interchanges among a n u m b e r of homosexuals. Y e t , despite ali these excesses, the novel develops a complex set of problems t h r o u g h a number of w e l l - a r t i c u l a t e d points of v i e w . As Bernard wins in some ways, b u t loses in others, so other characters w o r k t o w a r d p a r t i a l resolutions. Bernard's b r i t t l e daughter, Elizabeth, is able to break t h r o u g h her smart shell sufficiently to have an affair w i t h Terence, Bernard's first boy f r i e n d . T h o u g h each gains something f r o m the affair, the relationship cannot become permanent. A n d Bernard's younger f r i e n d , E r i c , is able to leave his beloved mother and move to L o n d o n on his o w n , although his departure is effected o n l y by m u t u a l misunderstanding. C o m m u n i c a t i o n , again, is possible, b u t i n v a r i a b l y incomplete or inconsequential. "Wilson's s k i l l f u l h a n d l i n g of m u l t i p l e points of v i e w reaches its c u l m i n a t i o n in his second novel, Anglo-Saxon Attitudes ( 1 9 5 6 ) . T h e novel begins w i t h a series of tableaux, static yet interconnected scenes in w h i c h each of a n u m b e r of characters is i n t r o d u c ed t h r o u g h his attitudes, thoughts, and statements concerning an i m p o r t a n t lecture on medieval history. T h e lect u r e , i n t u r n , refers t o the crucial p u b l i c event o f the n o v e l :

ANGUS WILSON's N A T I O N A L I S M

I 53

the u n e a r t h i n g, in East A n g l i a , f o r t y years before the novel's action begins, of a seventh-century bishop's t o m b , i n c l u d i n g b o t h bishop and an incongruous pagan f e r t i l i t y i d o l . T h e historians have a l i , in one w a y or another, been influenced by the discovery. In the tableaux W ı l s o n n o t o n l y develops each attitude t o w a r d the historical event and characterizes each historian b o t h personally and professionally, b u t focuses each scene on the character's v i e w o f Gerald M i d d l e t o n , the s i x t y - t w o - y e a r - o l d professor, the last s u r v i v i n g historian present at the discovery ( a l t h o u g h he was incapacitated by a sprained ankle w h e n the discovery actually t o o k place), and the central f i g ü r e of the novel. Gerald, a f i g ü r e of detachment and d i g n i t y , has retired prematurely and has never done the b r i l l i a n t historical w o r k expected of h i m . A l t h o u g h s t i l i strong and perceptive, he spends most of his t i m e collecting drawings. T h e second section of the novel, in another series of static scenes, follows Gerald's personal l i f e . Here again Gerald has been a failure. He lives apart f r o m his gushing, sentimental Scandinavian w i f e and is essentially estranged f r o m ali three of his c h i l d r e n : R o b i n , a f o r c e f u l and competent industrialist w h o manages the M i d d l e t o n f a m i l y business; K a y , a shy g i r l w i t h a w i t h e r e d hand w h o has m a r r i ed D o n a l d , an intense, shabby, and unsuccessful academic; John, a c h a r m i n g homosexual and form er member of Parliament w h o leads television campaigns f o r righteousness against the evils of government bureaucracy. Gerald finds R o b i n pompous, K a y d u l l and d o w d y , and John careless and i n t e l l e c t u a l ly dishonest. S i m i l a r l y , ali the children f i n d Gerald removed and ineffectual; t h e y are far closer to their w a r m and a p p r o v i n g mother, Inge. D u r i n g the aimless t a l k that follows Inge's large Christmas dinner, Gerald, in a series of flashbacks, reveals m a n y of the causes of his estrangement f r o m his f a m i l y . He t h i n k s of his mistress, D o l l i e , w h o m he loved b u t had abandoned " f o r the sake of the c h i l d r e n , " of the day Kay's hand was burned in the fire, of his decision n o t to go i n t o the f a m i l y business. Y e t the themes of the personal and the professional are connected, for D o l l i e was the w i f e o f Gerald's f r i e n d G i l b e r t , w h o was k i l l ed i n W o r l d W a r

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I and was the son of the professor w h o published the findings of the bishop's t o m b . Gerald, in his reflections, begins to realize that his failure as a historian is, in some way, connected w i t h his failure as a husband and a father. A f t e r W i l s o n has presented this vast b a c k g r o u n d w i t h s k i l l and depth, Gerald begins to t r y to create some order and meaning out of his l i f e . He involves himself w i t h a vast n u m b e r of people, c u t t i n g across ali levels of B r i t i s h society. He meets spivs and homosexuals on the fringes of London's c r i m i n a l w o r l d , acidulous l i t t l e scholars w h o break t r u t h i n t o t i n y , footnoted f r a g ments, and earnest y o u n g garage mechanics w h o listen to Salome on the gramaphone in surburban semidetached houses. W i l s o n portrays ali these varied characters w i t h memorable sharpness and force. Gerald finds, i n his increasing i n v o l v m e n t w i t h c o n t e m ­ p o r a r y society, t h a t his professional contacts are i n v a r i a b l y con­ nected w i t h his personal ones. T h e attractive y o u n g g i r l w h o is the granddaughter of the o l d actress Gerald stayed w i t h w h e n the bishop's t o m b was discovered is also Robin's mistress and John's secretary. T h e m a r k e t gardener v i c t i m i z e d by the government, whose cause J o h n so theatrically embraces on television, is m a r ried to a w o m a n w h o was a m a i d in the house at the t i m e of the archeological discovery. H e r father, s t i l i alive t h o u g h speechless f r o m a stroke, is the o n l y s u r v i v o r w h o actually does k n o w w h a t happened w h e n the bishop's t o m b was opened. Robin's w i f e is related to the caretaker of the o l d actress. A l i these t w i n e d connections operate more and more f o r c e f u l l y on Gerald, as he realizes t h a t he w i l l have t o sort o u t t r u t h f r o m error w i t h i n the mazes of b o t h his personal and his professional past. T h e whole novel is, in one w a y , a h i g h l y complicated state­ m e n t on the nature of t r u t h . Gerald recognizes t h a t he has evaded the t r u t h f o r most of his l i f e : It recalled too vividly the whole pattern of his family life: a world of indulgent sweetness and syrupy intimacy. He had done nothing to reform it ali these years; he could do nothing now. Nevertheless, the failure of his family life added to his preoccupation with his professional death and closed him round in a dense fog of self-

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disgust. It seemed to him that his whole life had grown pale and futile because it was rooted in evasion. [Anglo-Saxon Attitudes, p. 108.] Gerald remembers t h a t G i l b e r t , just before he was k i l l e d , had, w h i l e d r u n k , b i t t e r l y attacked scholarship and claimed t h a t he had planted the pagan f e r t i l i t y i d o l in the bishop's t o m b as a malicious joke. Gerald had always, in respect f o r his dead f r i e n d and f o r the scholarly r e p u t a t i o n of the dead friend's father, refused to check the story, just as he had refused to check his suspicion t h a t Inge, in a f i t of rage and f r u s t r a t i o n , had deliber­ ately b u r n e d Kay's hand. Gerald decides to uncover the t r u t h b o t h about the f r a u d and about his wife's action, a decision that leads h i m i n t o the centers of experience he has avoided for years. He even agrees to edit a new c o m p i l a t i o n of articles on medieval history. T h r o u g h o u t the novel W i l s o n satirizes various forms of the quest f o r t r u t h . S i l l y scholars constantly converge in exotic places to f o r w a r d the "interchange of ideas," a l t h o u g h o n l y pleasant banalities are interchanged at the scholarly meetings. Publicists l i k e J o h n M i d d l e t o n expose the governm ent w i t h fanfare and rhetoric, b u t W i l s o n shows that John succeeds o n l y in h a v i n g a competent c i v i l servant discharged and m a k i n g an amiable, t h o u g h incompetent, m a r k e t gardener miserable. Inge transposes ali experience i n t o sentimental f a i r y stories coated w i t h love and refuses to acknowledge a n y t h i n g unpleasant, even the c r i m i n a l homosexual, i n v i t e d by John, w h o steals her j e w e l r y . T h e m a r k e t gardener, Cressett, spends ali his t i m e reading encyclopedias, convinced t h a t t r u t h resides in the m i n u t e accumulation of fact, w h i l e he is u n w i t t i n g l y v i c t i m i z e d by the c i v i l service, by John M i d d l e t o n , and b y his w i f e . Y o u n g T i m o t h y , Gerald's grandson, w i t h ali the assurance of his sixteen years, is sure t h a t t r u t h consists of s i m p l y p u t t i n g every detail i n t o the r i g h t place. For D o n a l d , Gerald's unpleasant son-in-law, t r u t h consists in reveali n g f a m i l y scandal in p u b l i c . AH these searches f o r t r u t h are ludicrous, malicious, or inadequate. O n l y Gerald's search, the comprehensive examination of the i n d i v i d u a l ' s whole cxperience,

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his profession, his past, his f a m i l y , his relationships, can y i e l d meaningful t r u t h . Gerald does f i n d the t r u t h . He discovers t h a t the pagan i d o l was a f r a u d planted in the bishop's t o m b , and he announces his discovery, despite the pain it causes h i m , to the historical w o r l d . He confronts Inge w i t h his suspicions about Kay's hand, and she acknowledges t h a t they are t r u e . He finds D o l l i e , w h o had become an alcoholic under the stress of her relationship w i t h h i m , and telis her that he o u g h t never to have l e f t her. B u t t r u t h is n o t always useful. Gerald cannot compensate D o l l i e for t h i r t y years. H i s c h i l d r e n are n o t impressed w i t h his revelation about Inge, f o r John, crippled n o w , and K a y s t i l i revere their false, affectionate m o t h e r . A n d a l t h o u g h historians respect Gerald's findings about the f r a u d in the bishop's t o m b , a n u m b e r o£ t h e m s t i l i regard h i m as a dilettante w h o has wasted most of his talents. T r u t h is also n o t transferable. At one p o i n t Gerald becomes honest and direct w i t h R o b i n . K n o w i n g t h a t R o b i n i s t r o u b l e d because he is m a r r i e d to one w o m a n and in love w i t h another, Gerald telis h i m of his love f o r D o l l i e and the mistake he made i n sacrificing t h a t for his c h i l d r e n . R o b i n gruffly replies: " M y ease is a l i t t l e different, y o u k n o w . Marie Helene can't give me a divorce, she's a R o m a n C a t h o l i c " ( p . 2 5 8 ) . Gerald never be­ comes a hero operating f o r c e f u l l y and effectively in society. B u t he does stand at the apex of the n o v e l , u n i f y i n g a massive amount of contemporary material, g i v i n g focus and direetion to Wilson's t r e a t m e nt o f the nature o f h u m a n t r u t h . T h e novel itself, a complex series of attitudes and points of v i e w , is developed i n t o a diverse and p r o f o u n d statement about m a n in contemporary society. instead of a c o n s t r u c t i o n of m u l t i p l e prisms flashing against one another, A n g u s Wilson's n e x t novel, The Middle Age of Mrs. Eliot ( 1 9 5 8 ) , is almost entirely the careful development of a single character. T h e n o v e l , w i t h o u t t r i c k s or the slightest h i n t of melodrama, is a novel of sensibility in an almost Jamesian sense. T h e heroine, f o r t y - t h r e e - y e a r - o l d M e g E l i o t , is, at the b e g i n n i n g of the novel, the ç o n t e n t e d w i f e of a successful

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L o n d o n barrister. Despite the fact t h a t they have no c h i l d r e n , M e g feels in c o n t r o l of herself and her w o r l d , able to manage the things and people she sees around her: her friends, her c o m mittees, her colleetion o f ceramics. A s she and her husband, B i l i , are about to leave on a t r i p around the w o r l d , p a r t l y f o r pleasure and p a r t l y f o r a ease that B i l i must t r y i n Singapore, M e g summarizes her good f o r t u n e : She recited carefully to herself their personal beatitudes; and blessıngs they were indeed—good health, energy, a proper income, a decent social conscience, wide interests, humour shared, sufficient humour indeed to accept large parts of life unshared, and, through it ali, complete happiness together. It was simply superstitious fear of hubris that threatened to gnaw through such a fabric; and for atavistic, puritan superstition there was no cure like the months of wonderful new interests, the days of lazy ease that now lay ahead of them. [P. 3 9 . ] M e g gives a p a r t y the evening before they leave. At the p a r t y she manages people superbly, w i t h o u t stuffiness or coldness or contem pt, and she t h i n k s of herself as a c o m b i n a t i o n of Glencora Palliser, Oriane de Guermantes, and Clarissa D a l l o w a y . On one of the first stops of the t r i p , however, at Srem Panh in Badai, B i l i is shot b y some students at the a i r p o r t t e r m i n a l w h o had intended to k i l i the Badai Minister of Education. B i l i had made a heroic gesture to protect the official, and had stopped the bullet. W i t h i n a few moments B i l i dies, and Meg's w o r l d collapses. A f t e r resting for a few weeks she returns to L o n d o n to find t h a t B i l i had left her o n l y debts and their house (he had, under the pressure of h a r d - w o r k i n g success, gambled a great d e a l ) . M e g n o w needs b o t h to earn her l i v i n g and to develop a new set of feelings, attitudes, and allegiances w i t h w h i c h t o continue l i v i n g . B i l i had always proteeted her completely. She must n o w create something m e a n i n g f u l on her o w n . T h e whole novel traces Meg's attempts to create her o w n existence, to choose values and to develop her o w n attitudes and consciousness. At first, she is surprised to find that others' a t t i -

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tudes t o w a r d her change because her position has changed: the h e l p f u l , once deferential Miss Gorres, the clerk in the antique shop, makes a pass at M e g under the guise of f r i e n d l y discussion between t w o w o m e n ; M r . D a r l i n g t o n , the y o u n g permanent secretary of the welfare committee of w h i c h Meg had been chairm a n , n o w patronizes her and points out her lack of qualifications for social w o r k . Clearly her old activities m u s t be abandoned, and M e g enrolls in a secretarial school to learn shorthand. D e pressed by lonely bed-sitting-rooms, she tries l i v i n g w i t h some of her old friends, people poorer t h a n she had been w h o m she was always w i l l i n g to help. B u t economic equality and o l d friendship are n o t enough. One f r i e n d keeps i n v i t i n g BilPs executor f o r dinner and g i v i n g M e g u n w a n t e d advice ( i n a d d i t i o n , this friend's y o u n g son mistakes Meg's k i n d l y a u n t l i k e interest in h i m f o r sexual passion) ; another f r i e n d suggests M e g j o i n her in a life of w i l d parties and elegant p r o s t i t u t i o n ; a t h i r d f r i e n d , also a w i d o w , resents the fact that M e g charms her t r u c u l e n t son-in-law and orders M e g to leave the flat. At this p o i n t , h a v i n g just received her shorthand certificate, M e g breaks d o w n . She has f u l l y learned h o w l i t t l e of her old life and her o l d sympathies can be patched together again. In order to recover M e g visits her brother D a v i d , w h o runs a large nursery in the South D o w n s . David's partner and f r i e n d , G o r d o n , has just died so that D a v i d also is lonely. U n l i k e M e g , however, D a v i d has b o t h money and occupation, along w i t h a more certain f o r m u l a t i o n of his o w n undemonstrative pacifistic values. A homosexual and a conscientious objector, D a v i d is also more accustomed t o w o r k i n g o u t his o w n attitudes. A t the nursery M e g recovers and becomes useful as p a r t - t i m e secretary, bookkeeper, and household manager. She and D a v i d also begin to b u i l d up a relationship of concern f o r each other w h i c h they had never had before. As far as D a v i d is concerned, M e g could stay at the nursery p e r m a n e n t l y. Y e t , slowly, M e g begins to realize that she is d o m i n a t i n g D a v i d , changing his peaceful life as any intense relationship changes people. D a v i d begins, w i t h Meg's help, to r e t u r n to l i t e r a r y research (he had been a y o u n g

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f e l l o w at a college before W o r l d W a r I I ) instead of w o r k i n g on the series of garden books that he and G o r d o n had started t o ­ gether. Because she fears she is destroying D a v i d , M e g leaves, this t i m e f u l l y able to establish her o w n life in L o n d o n . Meg's independence is neither s i m p l y financial n o r a k i n d of e m p t y bravado. She has, like a heroine in a H e n r y James novel, learned her o w n possibilities and l i m i t a t i o n s in the m i d s t of a w o r l d f r o m w h i c h her husband had previously protected her. H e r responses have become more acute, her perceptions sharper, her knowledge of politics and people m u c h greater, a l t h o u g h she must n o w accept her sexless m i d d l e age. She is able, at the end, to make a genuine and difficult j u d g m e n t , and to k n o w w h y she is m a k i n g i t . T h e style, more i n t e r i o r and developing m u c h more slowly t h a n the style of Wilson's earlier w o r k s , also reflects the g r o w t h of Meg's sensitive and m o r a l consciousness. Whereas Anglo-Saxon Attitudes flashed words, events, and thoughts against one another in a complicated p a t t e r n , The Middle Age of Mrs. Eliot unfolds slowly as it carefully exhausts every t h o u g h t or reaction t h a t passes t h r o u g h Meg's m i n d . References to art, l i t e r a t ü r e , and music are frequent, as the i n t e l l i g e n t w o m a n , again like a Jamesian heroine, uses ali forms of art to enhance her o w n awareness of experience. T h i s novel, although entirely different, is as complete and as t o t a l l y satisfying as is Anglo-Saxon Attitudes. A n g u s Wilson's most recent novel is entirely different f r o m either of its predecessors. The Old Men at the Zoo ( 1 9 6 1 ) is a fable, a story of the management of the zoo at Regent's Park w h i c h becomes a story of the care and management of h u m a n beings. The l i n k between the animals and h u m a n beings is q u i c k l y and constantly made. Each office occupied by the m a n agers is called a cage and each of the officials is described in terms of a characteristic animal. One curator is called a "sick o l d p u m a " w h o later becomes a "sleek, handsome y o u n g leopard" w h e n his ideas m o m e n t a r i l y t r i u m p h ; another curator, the m a n in charge of birds, has a nose like a beak; the president of the society, a m a n h i g h in the government, is called a " f a t , lost o l d bear" or a

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"wise o l d bear"; the y o u n g narrator, at first detached and i r o n i c , is referred to as a camel. Later in the novel, as ali rational c o n t r o l of society seems to break d o w n , the i d e n t i t y between m a n and beast becomes even more complete. Crowds gather outside the zoo to protest the a t t e m p t to save the animals (a war is g o i n g on at the t i m e ) and c a r r y placards reading " M e n n o t Beasts." B u t it is almost impossible to t e l i one f r o m another: " T h e hoarse roar seemed to e n g u l f the silence of the Zoo, t h o u g h here and there the c r y or scream of an animal or b i r d joined the h u m a n d i n " ( p . 2 9 5 ) . T h e action of the book begins w h e n an apparently gentle giraffe, i l i w i t h a t u m o r , suddenly kills a keeper, emasc u l a t i n g h i m in the process. R a t i o n a l and ordered society has been upset by the unsuspected violence and tumescence of the creature. A l i the officials recognize, in the face of possible violence, the necessity f o r some sort of c o n t r o l ö v e r the animals. T h e first director, E d w i n Leacock, f a v o r i n g a doctrine of " l i m i t e d l i b e r t y , " wants the establishment of a reserve on the Welsh border where the animals can roam ö v e r a wide area of woods and hills w i t h f e w checks on their freedom. H e argues t h a t the reserve w i l l p e r m i t b o t h m a n and animal to keep some of the valuable " l i f e of the i n s t i n c t " so f r e q u e n t l y lost in contemporary society. Leacock is a publicist and a crusader, using the contemporary m e d i u m of television to popularize his idea. He wins the b a c k i n g of the influential president, L o r d Godmanchester, the donor of the land f o r the reserve. Godmanchester's motives, however, are quite different f r o m Leacock's, for Godmanchester is sure t h a t a w a r is c o m i n g (the novel begins in 1970) and wants safe c o n t r o l of the animals on his o w n l a n d . Leacock begins to move the animals to the reserve, b u t the doctrine of " l i m i t e d l i b e r t y " doesn't w o r k . T h e creature is unable to l i m i t his o w n l i b e r t y , and a few animals escape f r o m the reserve and f r i g h t e n the nearby villagers. Leacock is unable to handle the p r o b l e m . He arranges a public execution f o r an e r r i n g l y n x (the l y n x had done no h a r m in escaping), an example t h a t creates far more

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terror t h a n it assuages. Leacock is u l t i m a t e l y a bad director, f o r he insists on p u n i s h i n g fiercely whatever breaks f r o m his lenient c o n t r o l , as he is merciless t o w a r d his n y m p h o m a n i a c daughter w h o m he cannot silence or c o n t r o l . H i s personal and professional l i m i t a t i o n s coalesce, f o r his daughter, his subject, is raped and k i l l e d by the animal she has provoked. " L i m i t e d l i b e r t y " leads to disaster f o r the creature, and the reserve is abandoned. T h e n e x t director, the elegant explorer Sir Bobby Falcon, believes i n r e s t r i c t i n g l i b e r t y m u c h more severely. W i t h ali the animals back at Regent's Park, he favors a r e t u r n to the V i c t o r i a n concept of the zoo—-animals herded together in p r e t t y cages, barrel organs and brass bands, colored lights and p a t r i o t i c slogans. He plans a grand opening for his r e v i v a l of older zoos for B r i t i s h D a y and regards himself as the last p o w e r f u l s u r v i v o r of an o l d order, a happier and more c o l o r f u l t i m e f o r B r i t a i n . T h e w a r i n t e r r u p t s his plans f o r the grand opening, b u t , just before the bombs actually f a i l , Sir B o b b y turns on ali his gala lights and recordings of " H o m e Sweet H o m e . " As the animals roar and h o w l in the u n n a t u r a l l i g h t , Sir B o b b y screeches, " T h e y ' U ali go out in their grey dreariness. W e ' l l go o u t as a h i g h o l d , rare o l d , b l o o d y b e a u t i f u l j o k e . " Sir B o b b y is a s i m i l a r l y v a l i a nt poseur i n his pri va te life. H i s w i f e , interested i n the theater, sees h i m rarely, and he is c o n t i n u a l l y t r y i n g to be u n f a i t h f u l . Y e t , at moments of crisis, they appear together to make a brave, p u b l i c stand, and each has a good deal of respect f o r the other's alle­ giance to a more noble, happier t i m e. A f t e r the w a r is ö v e r , the zoo becomes sinister. T h e new direc­ t o r , the cosmopolitan U n i - E u r o p e a n , Englander, establishes a zoo in w h i c h the conventional difference between m a n and animal is diabolically reversed. H e sets u p an e x h i b it w i t h a chained, shoddy Russian bear and a caged, miserable A m e r i c a n eagle. He then invites the m o b of Uni-Europeans to tear the bear and the eagle to pieces. T h e leader of the U n i - E u r o p e a n p a r t y , B l a n c h a r d - W h i t e , plans a n e x h i b i t i o n i n w h i c h p o l i t i c a l prisoners w i l l be p i t t e d against w i l d beasts i n the revival o f a

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grand o l d European spectacle. A l i rational c o n t r o l has, at this

to a more ordered and settled w a y of l i f e . T h e Uni-Europeans

p o i n t , vanished f r o m society; c o n t r o l is simply the v i o l e n t ab­

represent the i r r a t i o n a l and irresponsible m o b , those w h o g l o r i f y

straction o f t o t a l i r r a t i o n a l i t y .

their instincts and f o l l o w any v i o l e n t slogan. T h e n o v e l is set in

A l i these changes in government and a d m i n i s t r a t i o n are seen

1970 in order to o b j e c t i f y , more easily, tendencies and attitudes

f r o m the p o i n t of v i ew of Simon Carter, the y o u n g secretary

already manifest w i t h i n contemporary society. The Old Men at

of the zoo. A l t h o u g h Simon tends to favor Leacock's position,

the Z o o is n o t , however, a p r e d i c t i o n ; fables are never t h a t

he remains detached t h r o u g h most of the early conflicts. He is

specific. Rather, the novel is an exaggerated objectification of

the o n l y one at the zoo able to come home w i t h o u t smelling l i k e

c u r r e n t society, a logical extension of attitudes, slogans, and

one of the animals. He is careful and c r i t i c a l , interested in

perspectives t h a t W i l s o n finds c u r r e n t l y visible. T h e novel is

research and e x a m i n a t i o n, and able to d o u b t Leacock's c e r t a i n -

also different f r o m 1984. O r w e l l ' s novel is a melodramatic w a r n -

ties even t h o u g h he substantially agrees w i t h h i m . He worries

i n g , sensationally exaggerating the dangers of a specific f o r m of

about motives and responsibility, and is f r e q u e n t l y called a " p r i g "

g o v e r n m e n t ; Wilson's novel is a fable, m a k i n g an exaggerated

b y others w h e n he w i l l n o t f a i l i n w i t h their schemes easily and

statement about the nature of the creature in c o n t e m p o r a r y

enthusiastically. T h e w a r forces Simon o u t of his i n t e l l e c t u al

society, a w i d e r and more complex statement relevant to ali

detachment. He tries to save the animals, b u t can o n l y barely

forms of government. W i t h i n the c o n t e x t of his fable W i l s o n also

save himself. W h e n the Uni-Europeans take c o n t r o l , Simon tries

demonstrates his allegiance to a k i n d of rational c o n t r o l . Simon,

to w o r k w i t h t h e m , feeling that any zoo, any c o n t r o l , m a y be

the intellectual, the administrator, is also, in a w a y , the hero.

better t h a n e x t i n c t i o n or anarchy. B u t his A m e r i c a n w i f e , loyal

M a n can survive, in terms of the novel, o n l y if he recognizes his

t h r o u g h o u t the other changes, leaves h i m after she sees the m o b

o w n animalism b u t attempts, as i n t e l l i g e n t l y as he can, to govern

r i p apart the eagle and the bear. Simon f i n a l l y realizes the h o r r o r

this b r u t a l i t y r a t i o n a l l y and wisely. He cannot establish programs

of the Uni-Europeans, protests, regains his w i f e , and is sent to a

or r e t u r n to r i g i d , n a r r o w codes of the past, b u t he can t r y to

concentration camp. I n e x p l i c a b l y , sane government is restored at

exercise some c o n t r o l ö v e r the beast, ö v e r himself. A n d , as in

the end of the novel. T h e Uni-Europeans are defeated and jailed,

Wilson's other novels, the personal c o n t r o l and the professional

w h i l e Simon and t h e f e w r e m a i n i n g responsible administrators are

c o n t r o l are equated. Simon's relationship w i t h his w i f e i n v a r i a b l y

liberated. Y e t Simon, at the end, is chastened; he is less arrogant,

m i r r o r s the appropriateness of his response to the given profes­

priggish, and detached. D u r i n g the w a r he could keep alive o n l y

sional issue. T h e w o r t h y m a n , to W i l s o n , cannot easily separate

by t r a p p i n g and eating badgers, the animals he had once p r o -

his w o r t h i n t o categories m a r k e d j o b , bed, or i n d u l g e n t father.

tected as his p r i n c i p a l z o ö l o g i c a l interest. He has been forced to recognize the atavism at the center of even the most responsible of h u m a n beings.

T h e l i m i t e d and perceptive r a t i o n a l i t y t h a t the hero manifests is, in Wilson's w o r k , a peculiarly B r i t i s h v i r t u e .

Obviously

W i I s o n does n o t beat the d r u m in order to acclaim the superior-

A l i the changes in the zoo's a d m i n i s t r a t i on reflect possible

i t y o f e v e r y t h i n g B r i t i s h , b u t the m a n o f intelligence and respon­

perspectives on the government of h u m a n society. Leacock's

s i b i l i t y w h o tries to exercise some c o n t r o l ö v e r the bestial is,

" l i m i t e d l i b e r t y " reflects the uneasy c o n t r o l and neurotic a d m i n ­

l i k e Simon Carter and Gerald M i d d l e t o n and Bernard Sands,

istration of a government t h a t w o u l d allow the m a x i m u m

i n v a r i a b l y B r i t i s h . O n the other h a n d, p r i n c i p a l villains have

l i b e r t y commensurate w i t h national security. Sir Bobby's V i c -

usually i m m i g r a t e d f r o m foreign countries. Ih The Old Men at

t o r i a n fanfare represents the conservative and impossible r e t u r n

the Zoo, Sir B o b b y Falcon's B r i t i s h D a y m a y be outmoded and

164

ANGUS WILSON's N A T I O N A L I S M

ridiculous, b u t it is neither so sinister nor so despicable as the celebration of the U n i - E u r o p e a n movement. T h e U n i - E u r o p e a n leader states his aims quite openly: To see justice done and to have a little fun. I don't think they're such incompatible aims really. In fact, quite the contrary, quite the contrary, particularly if, in throwing off the puritan legacy, we get closer to the rich vein of Mediterranean brutality on which our European legacy so much depends. [P. 317.] Inge M i d d l e t o n ' s m u d d l e d softness and Marie Helene's calculated hardness are b o t h alien intrusions; B i l i Eliot is k i l l e d i n the bestial governmental squabbles in Srem Panh. B u t M e g E l i o t ,

10

Comedy and Understatement

w o r k i n g out her o w n f u t u r e ; Gerald M i d d l e t o n , e x a m i n i n g the t r u t h of his past; and Simon Carter, responsibly concerned w i t h the nature of m a n in society, are ali t h o r o u g h l y and sensibly British. A n g u s W i l s o n is the best contemporary English novelist. Each

W H I L E A L A N S I L L I T O E DEPICTS T H E A T T I T U D E S O F T H E

of his last three novels is an entirely different a t t e m p t to present

w o r k e r in a N o t t i n g h a m bicycle f a c t o r y and Kingsley A m i s

significant issues in contemporary society. No other contempor-

deals w i t h the y o u n g m a n in the r e d - b r i c k u n i v e r s i t y or p r o -

ary has treated so vast a range of social and intellectual problems

v i n c i a l l i b r a r y , other novelists d u r i n g the past decade have

or controlled so diverse material f r o m an i n t e l l i g e n t and coherent

c o n t i n u e d to describe social

perspective. In a d d i t i o n , no other contemporary has used so

f a m i l i a r patterns. Roger L o n g r i g g has w r i t t e n four comic novels

attitudes

and manners

in

more

various and effective techniques—a prismatic series of i n t e r -

centered on y o u n g men in advertising w h o live in Chelsea mews

connecting m i r r o r s , a novel of sensibility, and a s t r i k i n g f a b l e —

houses, on horse racing, or on M t . Everest parties among the

to represent the m a n y sides of the h u m a n creature.

ex-debutant.es w h o roam between H y d e Park and the Thames. H u g h Thomas has w r i t t e n a novel

(The World's Game,

1957)

describing the Foreign Office and the people, o l d and e m p t y or y o u n g and disillusioned, w h o w o r k there. H o n o r T r a c y has w r i t t e n a num ber of novels in w h i c h the sane and logical Englishm a n comes i n t o conflict w i t h a shoddily r o m a n t i c and irresponsible I r e l a n d. In one of these comedies, The Straight and Narrow Path ( 1 9 5 6 ) , a y o u n g scholar reports t h a t a group of Irish nuns have celebrated m i d s u m m er by j u m p i n g ö v e r fires in their o w n version of an ancient f e r t i l i t y r i t e , and almost ali of Ireland is scandalized w h e n the report appears in an English newspaper. T h e whole novel develops reactions and complications f r o m the

l66

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167

single i nc i de nt. B u t none of these recent novels is concerned w i t h

easier t h a n the heroes of W a i n , A m i s , Osborne, or Sillitoe w o u l d

the lower or the lower m i d d l e classes, w i t h the social issues t h a t

ever acknowledge t h e m to be.

develop f r o m a breaking d o w n of the English class structure.

Roger L o n g r i g g o f t e n satirizes those preoccupied by class

A n d r e w Sinclair's novels treat class more e x p l i c i t l y t h a n do

issues or the dislocated w h o t r y to rise f r o m p r i o r class affiliations.

those of L o n g r i g g , Thomas, and H o n o r T r a c y , yet Sinclair's

In his first novel, A High-pitched Buzz ( 1 9 5 6 ) , the posh peo­

heroes are far f r o m Sillitoe's workers o r f r o m L u c k y J i m . I n

ple w h o w o r k in the advertising agency ali laugh at the one

Sinclair's first novel, The Breaking of Bumbo

( 1 9 5 9 ) , the y o u n g

hero, f r o m an unspecified segment of the m i d d l e classes, has gone

g i r l in the art department w h o is n o t a p a r t of their elegant world:

t h r o u g h E t o n on scholarship and is, d u r i n g the course of the novel, in the b a t t a l i on of Guards stationcd in L o n d o n . He tries to live the guardsman's elegant bachelor l i f e : R u g b y matches, d r i n k i n g u n t i l d a w n , debutante parties t h r o u g h o u t the season. T h e hero of Sinclair's second novel, My Friend Judas

(1959),

is a student at Cambridge w h o pretends to come f r o m a lower class t h a n he does and uses class and class attitudes as material

She had wispy, dry, reddish hair, pulled back into a pony's tail (at that late date a pony's tail) ; a heavy reddish face; a style of dress in which Bohemianism and the terrible orthodoxy of her background strove in sad and inconclusive conflict, like two very weak old ladies hitting at each other with broken parasols. [Pp. 63-64.]

f o r m o c k e r y t h r o u g h o u t his undergraduate career. A l t h o u g h

L o n g r i g g also satirizes the j u m b l e d foreign and discordant i n -

the v i l l a i n of the novel is a r i g h t i s t snob vvhose affectations parody

fluences in c o n t e m p o r a r y coffee bars. Sıvitchboard ( 1 9 5 7 ) again

those of E v e l y n W a u g h ' s undergraduates in the 'twenties, the

mocks the secretaries in advertising offices w h o are n o t so w e l l -

hero really feels t h a t class is irrelevant. T o w a r d the end of the

bred or so sophisticated as their bosses are, and spends a good

novel he t h i n k s about the subject of class:

deal of t i m e satirizing the r i g i d , n o n c o n f o r m i s t f a m i l y t h a t one

I mean, take this whole class-racket that worries me stiff. I don't mean class, in the jokey Mitford sense; I mean class, a joe's place in his set-up. Even then, it's not ali that. I know that I, good old bourgeois Ben Birt, buzz round pretending to be more of a prole than I am, so I can spit in the eye of the richer bourgeois, who try to look like aristos. But we're both wrong. Maybe, like the porters who try to be porters, we should just try to be students, and do our jobs. Class being doing your job well. Class being knowing where you are and why. Class being more than schooling, accent, lolly, looks; . . . class being a fair idea of what you can do and what you can't, and saying that's that. Though ıt's a fact that most joes don't know what they can't do. They don't know their class. Or maybe they do know their class, but they don't think it's where they are. [Pp- 205-206.]

o f the p r i n c i p a l characters marries i n t o . I n L o n g r i g g ' s t h i r d novel, Wrong Number

( 1 9 5 9 ) , his hero, a y o u n g O x f o r d don,

complains t h a t some of his new f e l l o w dons are " u n c o u t h p h y s i cists f r o m the Black C o u n t r y " and " f u r i o u s economists f r o m L o n d o n . " Later in the novel the hero stays at a c o u n t r y house in order to w r i t e and produce a musical f o r c h a r i t y . He uses Marlowe's D r . Faustus as the f r a m e w o r k f o r his parody, characterizing " W r a t h " a s one o f the " A n g r y Y o u n g M e n " w h o retains his anger despite the fact t h a t his books are selling extremely w e l l . H o n o r T r a c y satirizes n o t o n l y the irresponsible stage I r i s h m a n , b u t also any f o r m of the progressive or the do-gooder. One of her more recent novels, A Number of Things ( 1 9 6 0 ) , relates the t r i p o f a y o u n g w r i t e r , H e n r y L a m b , t o the West Indies i n

Despite his lack of snobbery, Ben B i r t regards g e t t i n g r i d of the

order to w r i t e a series of impressions f o r a liberal magazine.

usual preoccupations and designations of class as something far

Y o u n g H e n r y , unpretentious, honest, and w e l l - b r e d , q u i c k l y

168

COMEDY

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discovers the hypocrisy of the liberal magazine

COMEDY

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169

(the e d i t ö r ,

h y p o c r i t i c a l B r i t i s h colonial a d m i n i st r a t i on in the West Indies,

lisping and sentimental, w i l l n o t p r i n t H e n r y ' s accounts because

the priggish Englishman wherever she finds h i m , and the inef-

they conflict w i t h his preconceived n o t i o n o f West I n d i a n no-

fectual l i t t l e l o r d w h o periodically cannot c o n t r o l his w h i m t o

b i l i t y and " r h y t h m " ) . Miss T r a c y ridicules almost everyone

r u n naked t h r o u g h his Irish woods. A n d Miss T r a c y seems to

H e n r y encounters: O r l a n d o Figgis, the p r i m i t i v e West I n d i a n

reserve her greatest contempt, in ali her novels, f o r the news-

turned

papers, f o r those vast classless organizations t h a t distort the facts

Shakespearean

commentator;

the

self-sacrificing

Miss

Perowne w h o wishes to break d o w n ali class barriers on board

s i m p l y to f i t their o w n policies and prejudices. A n d r e w Sinclair

the ship and prides herself on her enthusiasm for discovering and

mocks the Guards w i t h their m i l i t a r y stiffness and their belief

encouraging native talent; Candida Firebrace, the spirited native w h o enjoys religion so m u c h t h a t she dedicates herself to b o t h the P i l g r i m Zeal f r o m Minnesota and the Catholic C h u r c h ; the sententious e d i t ö r w h o cheats H e n r y of the money he's promised h i m ; George Bernard Singh, the native hotelkeeper w h o persists in raising H e n r y ' s r e n t and i n h i d i n g his letters f r o m h i m . T h e West Indies, for Miss T r a c y , represents a new w o r l d gone mad, a whole set of irresponsible people suddenly given money and power by deluded fools. O n l y the w e l l - b r e d y o u n g m a n , the m a n w h o represents the virtues of the o l d English society, can remain sane in the midst of the contemporary chaos. A n d r e w Sinclair has l i t t l e veneration for the special v i r t u e of any class, b u t he also mocks m u c h t h a t is c o n t e m p o r a r y : the coffee bars, the new skepticism about ali politics, the " A n g r y Y o u n g M e n . " Ben B i r t , in My Friend Judas, makes f u n of ali the realistic and c o m m i t t e d undergraduate w r i t e r s and deliberately sets himself to compose " r o m a n t i c m u c k " f o r an anti-anti-Establishment Cambridge paper. He constantly derides the s e l f - p i t y of those students

who

talk

and

write

about

class

and

about

social

problems.

in useless hardship as a f o r m of good t r a i n i n g , the shallow debutantes w h o go t h r o u g h endlessly repetitious parties in order to capture a husband, and the viciousness of the conscious aristocrat. Roger L o n g r i g g balances his satire of the g r u b b y or the dislocated w i t h comic treatment o f wealthy o l d men i n clubs, w e l l - b r e d y o u n g girls w h o continue their school language by t a l k i n g of e v e r y t h i n g in initials at parties, the w e a l t h y c o u n t y ladies w i t h their charities and their love affairs, the fashions in taste t h a t demand t h a t every y o u n g Londoner prove his contemporaneity by a d m i r i n g K i p l i n g , and the sameness of the y o u n g advertising men w h o live in similar mews houses in C h e l sea.

Longrigg's

most

recent

novel,

Daughters

of

Mulberry

( 1 9 6 1 ) , adds farce to his comic methods, f o r , in this story of an o l d man's a t t e m p t to make enough money to b u y a comfortable estate by judicious b e t t i n g at the horse races, L o n g r i g g has l o n g scenes where his characters t r y to assemble the models of ships or airplanes given away w i t h breakfast flakes or escape f r o m the p o l i ç e by strategically placing flashlight batteries on the stairs. H u g h Thomas also satirizes the Establishment. He depicts the Foreign Office ensnared in meaningless protocol and sententious,

These w r i t e r s — L o n g r i g g , Sinclair, H o n o r T r a c y , and Thomas

n o n c o m m i t t a l language. Most of the officials, i m p o r t a n t t h o u g h

— d o not, however, simply represent a conservative or upper-

t h e i r positions and decisions are, spend their t i m e w o r r y i n g about

class reaction to the w o r k of writers like Osborne and W a i n .

the social l i fe in the capital on their next t o u r of d u t y or the

Rather, they satirize the Establishment just as f o r c e f u l l y as they

complexities o f the "fag-prefect relationship" i n the structure o f

deride the poor Bohemian in the advertising agency or the y o u n g m a n f r o m the Black C o u n t r y a t O x f o r d o r Cambridge. H o n o r T r a c y burlesques H e n r y Lamb's vegetable-growing parson father w h o is completely removed f r o m the c o n t e m p o r a ry w o r l d , the

the Foreign Office. Thomas also describes a disarmament c o n ference in w h i c h the participants are more interested in the image they present to the newspapers t h a n in disarmament and a H o u s ç of Commons in w h i c h the members are interested o n l y

170

COMEDY

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17 i

i n oratorical t r i c k s . W i t h the exception o f Thomas, these w r i t e r s

to serve his o w n end. Principle is never so i m p o r t a n t , f o r Miss

satirize ali class or group entities in contemporary E n g l a n d .

T r a c y , as seeing the w o r l d w i t h clear intelligence. In another

A l t h o u g h the heroes are usually w e l l - m a n n c r e d , the authors are

novel, The Prospects Are Pleasing ( 1 9 5 8 ) , she has her w i t t y and

u n w i l l i n g to allow them to make a special plea f o r the v i r t u e of a

materialistic English hero w i n out against the ineptitude of the

p a r t i c u l ar class. The satire, q u i c k , extensive, sharp-minded, d o m -

p r o u d , mystic, and i r r a t i o n a l I r i s h . T h e Englishman even has to

inates the novels.

steal

the p a i n t i n g that

represents

Ireland's cause,

simply

by

These f o u r w r i t e r s , however, despite satire and despite constant

w a l k i n g i n t o the N a t i o n a l Gallery and t a k i n g the p i c t u r e f r o m

understatement, place some value in the character of the hero.

the w a l l , w h i l e the frightened I r i s h m a n hides and then runs

L o n g r i g g , Thomas, and H o n o r T r a c y have l i t t l e t o d o w i t h the

away.

t r a d i t i o n o f the b u m b l i n g , equivocal antihero w h o fîgures i n the

A n d r e w Sinclair's hero in My Friend Judas is more l i m i t e d and

comic f i c t i o n o f W a i n and A m i s . A l i Longrigg's heroes are l o y a l :

closer to the antihero t h a n are the heroes of L o n g r i g g , Thomas,

l o y a l to their bosses despite the incessant p o l i t i c a l maneuvering

or H o n o r T r a c y . Ben B i r t begins w i t h a sense o f his o w n l i m i -

w i t h i n the advertising agency, l o y a l to their w o m e n despite the

t a t i o n , c o m m e n t i n g on his m i n u t e place in the scheme of things

High-pitched

and acknowledging t h a t he is more comfortable in the a d m i r a t i o n

Buzz the m o c k i n g y o u n g hero is even w i l l i n g to risk losing

of his home tovra t h a n in the m i d st of Cambridge's scholarship

constant c o m p l e x i t y of sexual

attraction.

In

A

advancement w i t h i n the agency (at first, his o n l y apparent a i m )

and sophistication. Y e t , w h e n genuinely moved, he is capable of

by defending his b o r i n g , p e t t y , t y r a n n i c a l boss. Simon S m i t h ,

disinterested action s i m p l y to help other people. He telis a w h i t e

an

lie in order to save his t u t o r ' s marriage, and he remains w i t h an

unsatirized f a i t h i n the possibility that p o l i t i c a l action can i m -

u n a t t r a c t i v e g i r l t h r o u g h o u t the M a y W e e k B a l l . He also comes,

prove man's c o n d i t i o n

t h r o u g h the course of the novel, to value Cambridge, to see the

the y o u n g hero in Thomas' The World's Game, maintains

amidst w h a t he feels is the decadent

skepticism of the Foreign Office. A l t h o u g h sometimes nai've,

u n i v e r s i t y not s i m p l y as a pleasant w a y to spend three years w i t h -

Simon

o u t responsibility, b u t as a social force t h a t stands against the

preserves his

independent

political

judgment

and

his

w o r l d o f "the B i g D i r t and the Great M u c k . " T h r o u g h the

honest reactions t h r o u g h o u t the novel. H o n o r Tracy's heroes are ali distinguished by a remarkable

u n i v e r s i t y he has developed a set of allegiances, almost, as he

adherence to c o m m o n sense in a zany, senseless w o r l d . H e n r y

indicates on the last page, a m o r a l i t y in spite of himself. T h r o u g h -

L a m b tries to report w h a t he sees in the West Indies,

o u t the novel Ben telis his college porter, Doggie, t h a t he, Ben,

and,

although he never defends the eternal rightness of B r i t i s h colo-

is really an aristocrat, a l o r d . T h i n k i n g Doggie an implacable o l d

n i a l a d m i n i s t r a t i o n , he refuses to j o i n other contemporaries in

T o r y , Ben assumes t h a t his lies have been responsible f o r the

l o n g wails of national self-recrimination or to praise a n y t h i n g

m a n y favors t h a t Doggie has done f o r h i m . At the end, however,

he sees s i m p l y because it's authentically native. A n d r e w B u t l e r ,

Doggie reveals that he always k n e w t h a t Ben was l y i n g b u t

in The Straight and Narrcnv Path, begins as a somewhat priggish

l i k e d h i m anyhow. He gives Ben his reasons:

y o u n g m a n o f principle caught b y mystical Irish nonsense. Y e t he is shrewd enough, once he discovers that the I r i s h s i m p l y use their nonsense to gain whatever they can f o r themselves, to f a b ricate a story about a ghost h a u n t i n g the canon's house in order

But you, sir, you was friendly or not as you felt. A n d you'd have your bit of fun, and share it around like. And that's what we like, them as shares their fun like the old gentlemen did before the new lot came i n . They're ali so serious now, sir. They mind so

172

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173

much. Haven't got a civil word in their head for those they think is worser. Not like the old gentlemen, sir, and you, sir. You've always got your little joke, and that's what I like. Lord Birt, I've laughed över that many a time. [Pp. 204-20$.]

himself, to his immediate practical disadvantage, on a p o l i t i c a l

Ben then t h i n k s : " H e was an old T o r y , b u t that's h o w he wanted

m e n t to a p o l i t i c a l cause is i n v a r i a b l y understated, as are the

i t . A n d he saw t h r o u g h me more than I saw t h r o u g h myself, the

c o m m i t m e n t s i n the w o r k o f L o n g r i g g and H o n o r T r a c y . These

issue. T h e antihero, in comparison, is never s u f ü c i e n t l y certain, either of himself or of his w o r l d , to f o r m so direct an attachment to a pol i t i c al cause. P a r t i c u l a r l y i n the w o r k o f Sinclair, however, the c o m m i t -

( p . 2 0 5 ) . Sinclair's hero, t h o u g h

are ali comic novels ( w i t h the exception of The World's Game),

somewhat sentimentally, has, t h r o u g h the u n i v e r s i t y ,

and comic in a q u i c k , almost desperate w a y that precludes linger-

lousy spy. I l i k e d D o g g i e " treated

progressed f r o m amoral honesty to some appreciation of

the

i n g on a p o i n t or stretching out an issue. L o n g r i g g specializes in a

I n a d d i t i o n t o Sinclair's c o m m i t m e n t t o the t r a d i t i o n a l values

comic juxtapositions and sudden leaps f r o m one topic to another.

of Cambridge, these writers also allow f o r c o m m i t m e n t to par-

E v e r y crucial conversation in his novels is b r o k e n by the nonsense

humane and responsible t r a d i t i o n the u n i v e r s i t y represents.

k i n d of clipped style, using a large n u m b e r of short scenes w i t h

t i c u l a r p o l i t i c a l issues. T h e hero, somewhat more sure of himself

that someone at the next table is t a l k i n g or i n t e r r u p t e d by a seem-

t h a n is the antihero, feels that he can afford to risk himself and

i n g l y irrelevant detail or a piece of social c o m m e n t a r y . Switch-

his career f o r a particular belief. Sinclair's guardsman, B u m b o ,

board contains a whole m i d d l e section of one-line conversations,

f o r example, is removed f r o m his b a t t a l i o n because he advocates

ali demonstrating the development of the hero's illness, as o n l y

refusing to fight if he is sent to Suez. He even attempts, w h i l e

the sharpest details of experience pierce t h r o u g h his g r o w i n g de-

d r u n k and t i r e d after an exhausting R u g b y m a t c h , to persuade

l i r i u m . In Daughtcrs of Mulberry, as the novel turns i n t o a chase

the enlisted men on his team that the English cause in Suez is

to disclöse a deliberate s w i t c h of horses, L o n g r i g g develops the

unjust and that Eden's government has acted o n l y out of pique

suspense t h r o u g h the cinematic device of alternating q u i c k scenes

and pride. T h e events c onc e rni ng Suez in 1956 seem to have

among several locations. Sinclair's comedy, t h o u g h less S t a n d a r d

elicited stronger convictions and reactions w i t h i n the B r i t i s h

t h a n that of Daughters of Mulberry, is also q u i c k . The Breaking

Establishment than has any other event w i t h i n the past decade.

of Bumbo is

full of interrupted

Hugh

comment

the

Thomas' hero,

Simon

Smith,

endorses the

other

side.

in

background,

conversations, sudden

and

guardsmen's

chatter.

social My

D u r i n g the events leading up to the Israeli invasion of E g y p t ,

Friend Judas uses these same devices b u t also adds a r i c h and

Simon becomes more and more upset by the anti-Semitism and

imagistic monologue t h r o u g h w h i c h Ben B i r t often mocks the

the refusal of ali the w e l l - b r e d members of the Foreign Office

w o r l d around h i m . I n the w o r k o f b o t h L o n g r i g g and Sinclair,

staff to understand Egypt's m o r a l g u i l t . Simon regards Israel as

ali the comedy functions so as to provide a k i n d of understated

a liberal democracy b a t t l i n g "an u n h o l y j u n t a of a u t h o r i t a r i an

c o m m i t m e n t , made b u t q u i c k l y hushed up lest it sound pre-

powers," and he feels t h a t B r i t a i n w i l l exercise no power or

tentious or sentimental. E n g a g i n g as they are, these novels are too

influence. F i n a l l y , in disgust w i t h his j o b , his associates, and his

slight to take any more deliberate or extensive statement.

class, Simon resigns f r o m the Foreign Office and plans to go to Israel. A l t h o u g h Simon and B u m b o support different sides in an issue that is b o t h p o l i t i c a l and m o r a l , each hero does c o m m i t

Even as it stands, the w o r k of L o n g r i g g , Thomas, Sinclair, and H o n o r T r a c y sometimes seems n o t q u i c k or agile enough. I n L o n g r i g g ' s first t w o novels, any dire event, such as an i n f i -

174

COMEDY

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UNDERSTATEMENT

AND

UNDERSTATEMENT

175

d e l i t y , is g r i m l y foreshadowed. T h e hero keeps preparing f o r the

H u g h Thomas is a more sober w r i t e r . B u t his careful discus-

disaster w i t h statements l i k e , " I f o n l y I had n o t i c e d . " The hero

sions of the organization, the waste, and the inefficiency of the

of the first novel, A High-pitchcd Buzz, is, as a m i n ö r character

Foreign Office are mapped o u t w i t h laborious detail. Fle also f alls

in the second novel, reunited w i t h the g i r l he had lost. The end-

easily i n t o l i t e r a r y cliches: his Americans, Russians, Britons, and

i n g , the losing of the g i r l , is logical for the events of A High-

Frenchmen around the conference table seem t aken d i r e c t l y

pitched Buzz, and the subsequent r e u n i o n , never explained, seems

f r o m a Peter U s t i n o v p l a y ; the images he uses f o r personal

more suitable to a woman's magazine serial. T h e n , too, L o n g r i g g ' s

emotions seem d r a w n f r o m Standard imagistic compilations.

t w o most recent novels are less interesting t h a n his earlier

In short, none of these novels is the w o r k of a great w r i t e r . Y e t

Wrong Numbcr

each novel is dealing w i t h the contemporary w o r l d in some mean-

satiric treatments of contemporary

London.

contains some fine satire of c o u n t y theatricals, b u t the love aff airs

i n g f u l w a y outside the f r a m e w o r k of the preoccupations of the

t h a t make up a good share of the novel seem stilted and e m p t y .

most significant w r i t e r s of the past decade. A l i these novels are

A n d Daugbters of Mulberry becomes a semicomic t h r i l l e r , as the

slight, in one w a y or another. Y e t the v e r y slightness of the

old racegoer eventually unravels the f r a u d . H o n o r T r a c y ' s novels,

heroic c o m m i t m e n t , of the n o v e l in w h i c h the hero can achieve

f o r ali their w i t , intelligence, and c l a r i t y , seem always to rest

some p u b l i c l y m e a n i n g f u l action, is in itself significant.

on the same central p o i n t : the m a n of c o m m o n sense and logic

To some extent L o n g r i g g , Thomas, and Sinclair share a c o m ­

surrounded by pretentious f o l l y and malicious delusion. A n d r e w

m o n theme. I n the w o r k o f ali three the hero, f a i t h f u l t o his

Sinclair, perhaps the best of these novelists, tends to sentimental-

p r i n c i p l e or to his superiors, is isolated f r o m most of his society.

ize and to repeat, ö v e r and ö v e r again, some of his best devices.

He can c o n t r o l his o w n actions, b u t he cannot c o m m a n d support

Ben B i r t ' s m o c k i n g , imagistic monologues give My Friend Judas

or approval. A n d o f t e n he is deceived by those in w h o m he placed

m u c h of its richness, b u t some of t h e m seem to go on and on.

the most f a i t h . T h e w o m e n the hero encounters, i n the w o r k o f

At one p o i n t Ben goes to a p a r t y and describes the r o o m : Pearl's room is a real tiara. Illumination shines at you out of every nook and cranny. Rarefied taste bongs you on the conk from every facet. Costly knick-knacks jostle discreet gee-gaws. Bijoux of ormulu are piled on porcelain figurines. Jade, alabaster, amber and onyx rub their shiny skins together. Yellow marble buddhas eternally contemplate their navels, in which fresh rose-buds have been newly placed. A stuffed retriever lies on the Indian rug; he'll bark if you fondle his tummy. Glossy photos of Pearl, in dressinggown or beard or armour or brief loin-cloth, consider each other with grave appreciation and the content of Narcissus. Marlowe Society posters say in big, plain letters AS Y O U LİKE IT or O T H E L L O or E D W A R D T H E S E C O N D . According to custom, the actors' names aren't mentioned. But the posters being on Pearl's wall betray their careful anonymity. Lack of adverstisement can never lick a Pearl. He is his own hoarding.

[Pp- î*-33-]

these three w r i t e r s , are i n v a r i a b l y u n f a i t h f u l . The g i r l B u m b o loves, a y o u n g model, soon becomes interested in other m e n , w a n t i n g to keep B u m b o around as her " r e a l l y deep" and w h o l l y s p i r i t u a l relationship. B u m b o himself, b r o k e n f r o m the Guards, finally marries a witless debutante, w h o is pregnant by another m a n , s i m p l y as a vaguely generous gesture. My Friend Judas also deals w i t h an u n f a i t h f u l g i r l : Ben's great love, J u d y , cannot resist changing men w e e k l y and finally marries one of Ben's nai've and scholarly friends. Simon S m i t h , the hero of The World's Game, is passionately in love w i t h his chief's w i f e and is unaware, u n t i l the v e r y end of the novel, t h a t she is h a b i t u a l l y u n f a i t h f u l to her husband. L o n g r i g g ' s w o m e n are also n o t to be trusted. The hero's g i r l i n A High-pitched Buzz deserts h i m , and one of the p r i n c i p a l girls in Switchboard, a sharp middle-class y o u n g l a d y w h o has captured the w e a l t h y director of the adver­ t i s i n g agency, lands in bed w i t h her husband's godson. Wrong

176

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Number deals w i t h

AND

UNDERSTATEMENT

ali the p r e d a t o ry c o u n t y wives,

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177

always

ficially he has judged whatever d i d n o t fit i n t o his t i n y advertis­

anxious to deceive their husbands w i t h younger or more h a n d -

i n g and K n i g h t s b r i d g e w o r l d . For each of these heroes something

some m e n . In each of these novels the hero is l e f t alone at the

of the assured w o r l d and the c l u b b y t r u s t of the f o r t u n a t e B r i t o n

end, deserted by his w o m a n and misunderstood by most of those

has been lost. T h e hero remains, more l i k e a figüre in the t r a d i t i o n

a r o u n d h i m . A l t h o u g h B u m b o has made his stand on Suez, he is

o f A m e r i c a n f i c t i o n , the t r a d i t i o n o f H a w t h o r n e , M e l v i l l e , and

n o w trapped in a loveless marriage. Simon S m i t h is off f o r

H e m i n g w a y , s t i l i keeping f a i t h w i t h himself, b u t wiser and

Israel, his friends t h i n k i n g h i m crazy and his illusions about b o t h

more lonely in his heroism.

love and government completely shattered. Even the o l d hero

Y e t the lonely heroism is slight and almost ahvays understated.

in Daugbters of Mulberry, h a v i n g uncovered the crooked horse

L o n g r i g g and Sinclair, i n p a r t i c u l a r , s u r r o u n d their heroes w i t h

s w i t c h , suffers more tKan anyone else in the novel. T h e f o r t u n e

constant verbal jokes and comic references. Y e t , l i k e H u g h

he has t r i e d to amass in f o r t y years at the t r a c k is gone, and he

Thomas, they p o r t r a y the contemporary w o r l d i n w h i c h m a n

goes back to the bar, alone, to t r y to figüre o u t the w i n n e r of

f r e q u e n t l y finds himself alone, unable to attach himself to a

the n e x t race.

m e a n i n g f u l g r o u p or society. T h e y retain the hero; they do n o t

W i t h i n their isolation most of these heroes become wiser people

question t h a t far. Y e t , f r o m the established positions in society,

than they were before. T h e y learn h o w l i t t l e any of us k n o w s of

these w r i t e r s comically, sometimes diffidently, often gracefully,

w h a t another t h i n k s or feels. Ben B i r t in My Friend Judas n o t

develop statements concerning the enormous d i f f i c u l t y i n v o l v e d

o n l y learns t h a t he has trusted the w r o n g people, b u t also t h a t

i n understanding and

he must falsify w h a t he knows about J u d y , his Judas, so t h a t her

w o r l d . T h e y define the irrelevance of the older traditions they

r e l a t i n g t o the

chaotic c o n t e m p o r a ry

marriage w i t h his f r i e n d w i l l have some chance to w o r k . H i s

admire, o f l o y a l t y , o f adherence t o p r i n c i p l e , o f humane concern

knowledge, and the necessity f o r keeping it to himself, o n l y

f o r others. T h e y w o r k their w a y t h r o u g h t o positions t h a t other

reinforce his isolation, an isolation t h a t he has always noticed in

w r i t e r s as diverse as i r i s M u r d o c h , A l a n Sillitoe, J o h n W a i n , and

the A m e r i c a n fiction of H e m i n g w a y , Salinger, and N a t h a n i e l

A n g u s W i l s o n assume as axiomatic.

West. B u m b o , too, is misunderstood. H i s fellow officers cannot imagine that anyone w o u l d h o l d a c o n v i c t i o n , so they assume t h a t B u m b o has been b r o k e n because he is a homosexual and a coward. H i s new wife's f a m i l y assume he has m a r r i e d s i m p l y to g^ıin their superior connections in society and business. S i m i l a r l y , H u g h Thomas' hero cannot connect w i t h the w o r l d of the Foreign Office. W h e n the chief's w i f e discovers that Simon is headed f o r Israel, she assumes t h a t his unrequited love f o r her has d r i v e n h i m to exile himself, and she even, f o r the first t i m e , wants h i m to kiss her. She is incapable of understanding t h a t his decision is m o r a l and p o l i t i c a l , f o r such decisions are entirely alien to the Foreign Office c r o w d t h a t Thomas portrays. Longrigg's heroes also learn t h r o u g h experience, as the hero of A High-pitched Buzz finds, on a visit to his boss's home, h o w easily and super-

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nets, and the characters are eventually forced, by their o w n natures, to flee enchantment as they must unravel nets. T h e t h i r d novel is called The Sandcastle ( 1 9 5 7 ) . T h e t i t l e is emblematic of the love affair a m a r r i e d , f o r t y i s h schoolteacher tries to

11

b u i l d w i t h a y o u n g artist named R a i n . B u t the affair cannot last; it is a castle of sand. As R a i n explains, w h e n t a l k i n g about her Mediterranean b a c k g r o u n d , she has k n o w n o n l y d r y , d i r t y sand,

Images of illusion in the Work of iris Murdoch

unsuitable f o r b u i l d i n g castles of any shape or f o r m . F r o m the schoolteacher's p o i n t of v i e w , R a i n provides too m u c h energy, too m u c h v i t a l i t y , f o r h i m t o cope w i t h i n his circumscribed w o r l d , as a deluge of r a i n can wash away a sandcastle. A n d , significantly, there is a t o r r e n t i a l r a i n on the day w h e n the school teacher displays his i n a b i l i t y to deal w i t h ali the complications of the affair. The elements of the affair—the grains of sand and the moisture—exist, b u t the sand is either too d r y or too w e t . H u m a n beings are unable to c o n t r o l the moisture, to b u i l d a

E A C H O F İRIS M U R D O C H ' S FIRST F O U R N O V E L S H A S , A S

its t i t l e , an image of the k i n d of i l l u s i on its characters face. T h e first novel, Under the Net

lasting shape o u t of the illusory dream, and the castle either crumbles or is washed away.

( 1 9 5 4 ) , telis the story of Jake

In Miss Murdoch's f o u r t h novel, The Bell ( 1 9 5 8 ) , a group of

Donaghue's wanderings about Bohemian L o n d o n and Paris as he

people in a lay religious c o m m u n i t y a t t e m p t to place a beli on the

attempts to find or construct a satisfactory w a y of l i f e . B u t

t o w e r of a nearby abbey. T h e beli is a postulant, a means of

planned ways of l i f e are nets, traps, no m a t t e r h o w carefully or

e n t e r i n g the religious l i f e f o r each of the people i n v o l v e d . B u t

r a t i o n a l l y the net is w o v e n , and Jake discovers t h a t none of these

the bridge leading to the abbey has been tampered w i t h and, in

n a r r o w paths really w o r k s . T h e nets in the novel range f r o m

its j o u r n e y , the beli topples i n t o the lake. The beli itself, the

logical-positivist philosophy and l e f t - w i n g politics t h r o u g h

effort of h u m a n beings to construct and particularize their o w n

m i m i n g theatricals to film scripts and sophisticated b l a c k m a i l .

means of salvation, is u n d e r m i n e d by h u m a n action, e m o t i o n , and

In

the second

novel, The Flight

from

the

Enchanter

(1956),

behavior. At the same time the t r a d i t i o n a l beli, the beli t h a t once

Miss M u r d o c h deals w i t h a different sort of i l l u s i o n . A l i the

a c t u a l l y pealed f r o m the abbey tower, is recovered f r o m the lake

characters are under spells, enchantments, held in a k i n d of

by t w o of the least devout characters and sent to the B r i t i s h

emotional c a p t i v i t y by another person or force. T h e p r i n c i p a l

M u s e u m as a historical curiosity. T h e t r a d i t i o n of the past is

agent of enchantment, an ephemeral cosmopolite named Mischa

m e a n i n g f u l o n l y f o r antiquarians, is removed f r o m the central

Fox, exercises a spell ö v e r a n u m b e r of the other characters in

issues of experience, w h i l e the c o n t e m p o r a r y beli is another

the n o v e l ; y e t he feels no responsibility f o r the effects of the

i l l u s i o n , the image of another unsuccessful h u m a n a t t e m p t .

spells he exercises and the spells p r o v i d e no real meaning or satisf a c t i o n f o r the characters caught in t h e m . E m o t i o n a l enchant­ m e n t w o r k s no better t h a n the w e a v i n g of conscious and rational

M o s t of the images in Miss Murdoc h's titles are relative. For example, wh i l e the beli is a postulant for the religious life for m a n y of the characters, it is a different k i n d of postulant f o r

180

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each. The athletic C h r i s t i a n , James Tayper Pace, gives a sermon

Possession spoils the sense of being of the fish, the animate q u a l i t y

saying t h a t the beli represents p u r i t y , candor, innocence; for

t h a t makes it desirable. S i m i l a r l y , Mischa, the p r i n c i p a l en­

Michael, the leader of the religious c o m m u n i t y , the beli combines

chanter, keeps a large b o w l of colored fish in the b a l l r o o m of his

this innocence w i t h the w i s d o m of the serpent and represents a

elegant house. In a m o m e n t of jealous f u r y , at a w i l d p a r t y , Rosa

k i n d o f saving self-knowledge. W h a t each person sees i n the

hurls a paperweight and smashes the fish b o w l . T h e fish cannot

beli is a reflection of himself and his ideals. Si m i l arl y, in the other

survive. Once imprisoned, the fish cannot survive l i b e r a t i o n ,

novels, there is n o t s i m p l y one net or one enchantment. People

as m a n y of the people in the novel, once enchanted, can break

b u i l d their o w n traps f r o m their o w n minds and feelings, and

away o n l y by enormous effort and suffering. Possession does n o t ,

the traps, the illusions, are ali stated in different terms. O n l y in

however, always i n v o l v e death, and enchantment is n o t always

The Sandcastle is the t i t l e an image f o r a single illusion or rela­

t h a t decisive, t h a t final. N e a r the end of the novel, w h e n Rosa

tionship. In the other novels, each of the characters fabricates

is about to break away f r o m the spell of Mischa's enchantment,

himself i n t o an illusion expressed in terms related to those of

t hey are t a l k i n g at sunset in Mischa's garden in I t a l y :

other illusions. B u t the illusions are really different for different people: Michael's beli is m u c h more complex t h a n James's, A n nette's enchantment is more r o m a n t i c and juvenile and v e r y different f r o m Rosa's. Each of the novels, however, does collect the various illusions under a general set of terms, terms t h a t are somewhat different for each of the f o u r novels. Each novel gives a symbolic i d e n t i t y to the characters' desire to m a n u f a c t u r e f o r m and direction o u t of their disparate experience. A n d , in each novel, this a t t e m p t on the p a r t of the characters to manufacture f o r m and d i r e c t i o n is unsuccessful; the general structure suggested by the t i t l e cannot m e a n i n g f u l l y operate in the f r a g mented, relative w o r l d . • Against these images of man-made structures, Miss M u r d o c h f r e q u e n t l y poses images of the n a t u r a l w o r l d . In The Flight from the Enchanter, f o r example, references to fish are often i n d i cations of the n a t u r a l forces m a n tries to capture, possess, c onstruct. W h e n R a i n b o r o u g h , an unsatisfied c i v i l servant, attempts to prove and define himself by t r y i n g to seduce y o u n g A n n e t t e , he t h i n k s of her in terms of fish: It was like hunting fish w i t h an underwater gun, a sport which he had once been foolish enough to try. At one moment there is the fish—graceful, mysterious, desirable, and free—and the next moment there is nothing but struggling and blood and confusion. [Pp. 135-136.]

A lizard came suddenly on to the parapet near to Mischa. It stood tensely stili, and in the horizontal sunlight its small body cast a big shadow. With an easy sweep of the hand Mischa caught it and drew it on to his knee and held it for a moment with both hands cupped. His face lit up with animation and pleasure as he looked down at the panting belly of the lizard. It lay stili in his hands. "Give him to me!" said Rosa. She stretched out her free hand. "Be careful how you hold him," said Mischa, and he put the lizard into her palm. Rosa's fingers closed upon it maladroitly. In an instant, with a quick twist, the lizard had sprung away from her on to the ground, leaving its writhing tail behind in her grasp. With a cry Rosa dropped the tail upon the gravel. It lay there stili twisting and writhing. Mischa picked it up quickly and threw it över the parapet. They looked at each other wide-eyed with a sudden fright and distress. "He'll soon grow another one," said Mischa, and his voice was trembling. [Pp. 299-300.] T h e n a t u r a l , the v i t a l , sometimes has a recuperative power t h a t possession

or

enchantment,

those

emotional

artifices,

cannot

w h o l l y efface. A n d Rosa herself, battered by her relationship w i t h Mischa as w e l l as by her relationship w i t h t w o diabolic Polish brothers, can break enchantments, leave p a r t of herself w i t h t h e m , b u t stili escape and survive.

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183

In Under the Net, Miss M u r d o c h also uses n a t u r a l creatures

the dog survives in the m i n d of M o r ' s daughter, F e l i c i t y , as she

as symbols of some animate and essential q u a l i t y . In one of his

sees the spirit of the dog possess the bodies of the people around

m a n y schemes Jake Donaghue kidnaps Mars, an aging d o g w h o

her. For Felicity, the dog's spirit is a n a t u r a l and understanding

has starred in films. Mars is caged w h e n Jake steals h i m , and

force in the midst of a complex, s t r u c t u r e d w o r l d of relationships

Jake goes t h r o u g h a difficult and elaborate process to release h i m .

w h i c h she can neither understand nor f u l l y cope w i t h . She w o n -

B u t , once Jake possesses Mars, he finds t h a t his p l a n to exchange

ders whether her older brother really believes in the dog's spirit

the kidnaped Mars for the r e t u r n of a manuscript he believes

or has become too l i m i t e d by adult facts and adult constructions.

stolen f r o m h i m misfires. No one intended to keep the m a n u ­

Here the dog is a symbol of illusion w h e n posed against the

script f r o m h i m and the o r i g i n a l owners no longer w a n t Mars.

common-sense w o r l d ; b u t it is also i r o n i c a l l y a symbol of a

B u t Mars s t i l i exists, is s t i l i a f o r m of being no longer amenable

n a t u r a l creature w h e n posed against ali the mundane fabrications

to h u m a n purposes and machinations. A n d , at the end of the

m e n b u i l d , and the unhappiness these fabrications cause, in the

novel, w h e n ali Jake's nets have been unraveled, he returns to

w o r l d of the novel. T h e dog also serves f o r M o r and his w i f e .

his shrine ( M r s . T i n c k h a m ' s disorderly, cluttered sweetshop) to

T h e m e m o r y of the dog, attached to their feeling f o r their gar­

find t h a t Maggie, the cat, has given b i r t h to f o u r k i t t e n s . T h e

den, is the o n l y p o i n t of emotional contact t h a t M o r and his w i f e

b i r t h of the kittens does n o t p o i n t o u t a means of salvation f o r

share. A n d none of Mor's consciousness of his affair w i t h R a i n ,

Jake; it simply serves as an animate fact (the fact on w h i c h the

n o t h i n g of his artificial sandcastle, can destroy either his or his

in contrast to ali the specious illusions of man's

f a m i l y ' s m e m o r y of the dog. The w a n d e r i n g , formless creature

conscious attempts. The Bell also makes use of a dog. N i c k , a

novel ends)

also appears in The Sandcastle in the f o r m of a gypsy present at

sort of d e v i l in the religious c o m m u n i t y , the m a n whose action

crucial moments in the relationship between R a i n and M o r .

specifically prevents the beli f r o m reaching the abbey, has a dog,

T h e gypsy becomes a vague image of the w a y things are going,

M u r p h y , w h o v e r y m u c h resembles h i m . T h e y roam the woods

of the i m p e n d i n g disastrous end to the affair. M o r , after he has

together, live the same sort of lavvless existence. B u t M u r p h y

passed the gypsy at several different times, tries to find h i m ,

is a dog, N i c k a m a n , and M u r p h y can escape the torments, the

c o n t r o l h i m , and make h i m part of the understandable universe.

h u m a n traps and ideas and forms, that finally d r i v e N i c k to

B u t the gypsy is deaf, and, like the l i z a r d or the dog, represents

suicide. A l t h o u g h N i c k f i r s t talked o f " t r a i n i n g " M u r p h y , i t i s

something

M u r p h y w h o is left to h o w l in agony at the end. As N i c k at­

animate force n o t subject to h u m a n construction or i l l usi on.

tempts to t r a i n M u r p h y , so other members of the religious c o m ­ m u n i t y t r y to recognize, classify, impose order u p o n the birds in the woods near their house. B u t the birds outlast the c o m ­ m u n i t y , f l y i n g freely despite the l i g h t metal bands h u m a n beings have tied u p o n their legs. T h e unconscious creature survives where the conscious h u m a n venture fails, as, in The Bell, D o r a , the most creaturelike of h u m a n beings, the w o m a n uninterested in bells, salvation, u l t i m a t e meaning, is the one w h o survives.

beyond h u m a n c o m m u n i c a t i o n

or

control,

some

T h e v i t a l n o n h u m a n is also posed against the charts of h u m a n beings in another w a y , f o r Miss M u r d o c h makes frequent use of gardens and woods in her novels. Sometimes the garden is suggestive, as in The Sandcastle where M o r and R a i n first sense their affair in a rose garden w h e n they t o u c h . T h e garden c o m m u n i cates something t h a t each of them needs and finds in the other. W h e r e they f a i l is in their a b i l i t y to retain and c o n t r o l the feel­ ings of the garden in a w o r l d of h u m a n beings and h u m a n

A dog serves a similar f u n c t i o n in The Sandcastle. T h e school-

responsibilities. A t various points i n the novel M o r returns t o

teacher, M o r , and his f a m i l y owned a dog w h o is n o w dead. B u t

the garden, w a t c h i n g Rain's w i n d o w ( l i g h t s o f h u m a n a c t i v i t y

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and concern) f r o m the m i d s t of his garden, his love. The garden

assimilating ali t h a t lay i n her w a y " ( p . 3 3 5 ) . T h e m a r k e t gar­

has affected m a n , b u t m a n cannot preserve, make permanent,

den, mechanically c u l t i v a t e d , decays.

the spirit t h a t emanates f r o m the garden. Sometimes, too, the

H u m a n actions and aspirations are represented in the houses

garden is more profuse. N o t o n l y can m a n n o t capture i t , b u t

and the structures h u m a n beings b u i l d as w e l l as in their attempts

he can be lost in i t . Jake Donaghue in Under the Net chases

to cultivate the l a n d. I m b e r C o u r t , for example, the l o n g , clean,

A n n a , his vision of m e a n i n g f u l romance, t h r o u g h the Tuileries

aseptic manor house in The Bell, represents the clean and pure

on Bastille D a y , losing her among the trees, the statues, and

existence its inhabitants w a n t to lead in order to gain religious

celebrating lovers. T h e garden, l i k e the w o r l d , is p a r t n a t u r a l and

meaning and d i r e c t i o n . The sexual deviations t h a t w r e c k the

p a r t man-made, b u t exists in such profusion t h a t m a n loses

c o m m u n i t y stem f r o m the woods (where D o r a and Michael see

himself and his vision in the tangle. Sometimes the garden is

T o b y s w i m m i n g , where Catherine runs w i l d ) and the c o r r u p t i o n

better ordered, as is the beautiful and carefully isolated garden

of the p u b in t o w n . T h e c o u r t itself represents the h u m a n chart,

attached to the abbey in The Bell. B u t this is the garden of those

the h u m a n attempt, the h u m a n illusion t h a t doesn't fit the facts

w h o have already entered the religious life and it is significantly

of experience. S i m i l a r l y , in The Sandcastle, Demoyte's house

their graveyard as w e l l . In contrast, in the lay religious c o m m u -

(where R a i n lives) represents, w i t h its large l i b r a r y and gracious

n i t y in The Bell, the woods f r e q u e n t l y i m pi nge u p o n the efforts

proportions, a sensible and humane t r a d i t i o n . The books and the

of m a n , as the remnants of an older c i v i l i z a t i o n at I m b e r were

fire show ease, w i s d o m , c o m f o r t . B u t the treacherous garden, at

crowded o u t by woods and grass and g r o w t h . T h e postulant

least treacherous f o r M o r , lies just outside the w i n d o w , and the

c o m m u n i t y , u n l i k e the fi nal and lifeless abbey, is the h u m a n

house is n o t strong enough to prevent the garden's impact.

a t t e m p t to capture space, f o r m , meaning f r o m the c o u n t r y

Mischa Fox's house in The Flight from the F^nchanter represents

wilderness, as it is the attempt, u l t i m a t e l y unsuccessful, to give

the k i n d o f prefabricated enchantment w i t h w h i c h Mischa holds

m e a n i n g f u l direction to chaotic h u m a n experience.

other people. For his large p a r t y , "A carpet had been laid upon

Gardens are also used by m a n in order to create something out

of the

wilderness.

Rainborough,

in

The

Flight

from

the

the steps, and there were flowers on either side of the door, metallic blue and red in the crystalline l i g h t f r o m the doorway,

Enchanter, is p r o u d of his garden, b u t the hospital behind claims

and swaying s l i g h t l y in the evening breeze" ( p . 2 0 0 ) . T h e house

some o f the l a n d and knocks d o w n his w a l l i n order to possess i t .

itself also reflects Mischa's personality, the l a b y r i n t h i n e q u a l i t y

O t h e r man-made i n s t i t u t i o n s can spoil the garden. In The Bell,

t h a t helps make h i m so mysterious and attractive to others.

the inhabitants of the religious c o m m u n i t y c u l t i v a t e a m a r k e t garden as one of their most i m p o r t a n t projects. H e r e the garden is an image f o r the conscious direction m a n attempts to give to his experience. T h e garden w o r k s f o r a t i m e , thrives and is profitable, b u t it does n o t o u t l i v e the collapse of the c o m m u ­ n i t y t h a t created i t . O n l y the wilderness survives the failure t o place the beli on the t o w e r ; the wilderness and D o r a , the f o r m less, flourish. Michael notices:

" H e watched D o r a , t u r n i n g

towards l i f e and happiness l i k e a strong p l a n t towards the sun,

Mischa had had the fantasy of buying four houses in Kensington, two adjoining in one road, and two adjoining in the next road, and standing back to back with the first two. He had joined this block of four houses into one by building a square structure to span the gap. Within this strange palazzo, so rumour said, the walls and ceilings and stairs had been so much altered, improved and removed that very little remained of the original interiors. By now, it was reported, there were no corridors and no continuous stairways. The rooms, which were covered with thick

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carpets upon which the master of the house was accustomed to walk barefoot, opened directly out of each other like a set of boxes; and the floors were joined at irregular intervals by staircases, often themselves antiques which had been ripped out of other buildings. The central structure, which, it was noticed, had few windows, excited yet wilder speculation. Some people said that it housed a laboratory, others that it contained a covered courtyard with a fountain, and others again that it was a storehouse for art treasures which had been procured illicitly by Mischa and which were so well known that his possession of them had to be kept a secret. [Pp. 200-201.]

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the enigmatic hero, Mischa, wants the tangible and the precise. He keeps photographs of scenes i m p o r t a n t to his c hi l dhood w i t h the scholar, Peter, and he uses photographs, m u c h as a b l a c k mailer does, to keep his h o l d , his enchantment, ö v e r others. Photographs f r e q u e n t l y appear as images of the precise, of man's a t t e m p t to c o n t r o l something around h i m : A n n e t t e keeps a p h o t ograph of her brother as her o n l y apparent tie to f a m i l y and b a c k g r o u n d ; Michael, in The Bell, photographs ali the birds he has captured and catalogued. A n d m a n is able to use a camera, is able to fix formless experience at given points, is able to make contact, in l i m i t e d t i m e and space, w i t h other people and other

T h i s detailed, s t r u c t u r a l description is by no means unusual in

things. It is o n l y w h e n m a n attempts to make the precise i n t o

Miss M u r d o c h ' s novels. Man's plans to b u i l d , man's plans to

a w i d e r system of precision, to fit the formless i n t o a p a t t e r n

achieve something are f r e q u e n t l y given exhaustively t h o r o u g h

( l i k e a net or an enchantment or a sandcastle o» a b e l i ) , t h a t the

and precise t r e a t m e nt w i t h ali the engineering and the architec-

system t u r n s i n t o an u n w o r k a b l e illusion. As Jake, in a dialogue

t u r e i n v o l v e d f u l l y described. T w o boys' a t t e m p t t o c l i m b the

he's w r i t t e n , has his f r i e n d H u g o say ( a n d H u g o , character-

tower of the school in The Sandcastle, Jake's trials and engineer­

istically and i r o n i c a l l y , disclaims ali knowledge of the actual

i n g difficulties in stealing the dog in Under the Net, and T o b y

statement) :

and Dora's reclamation of the o l d beli in The Bell are f u l l y detailed. B u t ali these engineering projects, as w e l l as ali the houses represent, are either unsuccessful or useless. T h e boys cannot prove themselves by c l i m b i n g the tower (one of them is nearly k i l l e d ) and the reclamation of the beli serves no mean­ i n g f u l purpose. H u m a n achievement, h u m a n construction, never really does w h a t it has been designed to do. A l t h o u g h characters change d u r i n g the course of the novels, they seldom can carry t h r o u g h a deliberate p l a n or a conscious i n t e n t i o n . T h e conscious c o n s t r u c t i on is a l i , l i k e the masks f o r the mimers in Anna's prop r o o m in Under the Net, a f o r m , a face, a pose t h a t does n o t represent either a means of salvation or the essential feelings o f the central f i g u r e s i n the n o v e l .

If by expressing a theory you mean that someone else could make a theory about what you do, of course that is true and uninteresting. What I speak of is the real decision as we experience it; and here the movement away from theory and generality is the movement toward truth. AH theorizing is flight. We must be ruled by the situation itself and this is unutterably particular. indeed it is something to which we can never get close enough, however hard we may try as it were to crawl under the net. [P. 91.] T h e net is verbal and theoretical. A n y m e a n i n g f u l h u m a n pos­ s i b i l i t y m u s t be direct, active, concrete, l i m i t e d to a p a r t i c u l a r situation. H u g o himself has failed to find satisfaction and meani n g in the theoretical roles he has constructed: a p a t r o n of the

Man's interest in structure is, in Miss M u r d o c h ' s novels, p a r t

arts, a film producer, and a sort of Undershaftian maker of

of his interest in precision, in defining himself and his w o r l d .

armaments. He has a somewhat better chance at the end of the

A l m o s t ali the characters in the novels seek some f o r m of defini­

novel, f o r he plans to engage in concrete and l i m i t e d w o r k , to

t i o n , some means of coherently e x p l a i n i n g w h a t they are. Even

become an apprentice to a w a t c h m a k e r in N o t t i n g h a m . Jake, too,

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after his grandiose schemes f o r power, f o r t u n e , and l i t e r a r y eminence have failed, achieves a k i n d of independent value, a concrete t h o u g h l i m i t e d meaning, as a hospital o r d e r l y . A l m o s t ali the characters t r y to make their desires f o r d e f i n i ­ t i o n i n t o some k i n d of system, and the system fails. A n n e t t e ' s w i s h to learn in the "school of l i f e " becomes a system, a mystique, and she is forced to r e t u r n to the more l i m i t e d precision of the shelter of her f a m i l y . Catherine, in The Bell, wants to define her s p i r i t u al impulses by the a t t e m p t to become a n u n , b u t the r i g i d structure of the road to the sisterhood becomes too m u c h f o r her nature. M o r , in The Sandcastle, defined as a schoolmaster already, tries to t u r n his w a n d e r i n g impulses i n t o the p a t t e r n of a g r a n d passion. The large d e f i n i t i o n , man's a t t e m p t to make himself p a r t of a theory, doesn't w o r k . w i s d o m and insight to w h o m the other characters t u r n for advice. H u g o and M r s . T i n c k h a m in Under the Net, Peter Saward in The Flight from the Enchanter, D e m o y t e and the jeweler leader of the local L a b o u r p a r t y in The Sandcastle, Michael and the Abbess in The Bell, ali at one t i m e or another serve in this godl i k e role. B u t the God-figure never really w o r k s in the structure of the novel. T h e advice t u r n s o u t w r o n g or the God-figure never meant at ali w h a t the character t h o u g h t he meant or the G o d figure himself is equally perplexed. I r o n i c a l l y , it is C a l v i n B l i c k , a f l u n k y , an unsavory blackmailer, a m a n w h o had defined himself in a l i m i t e d , unsystematic w a y , w h o comes closest to the

general

truth

in

The

Flight

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I 89

the reflection of the h u m a n a t t e m p t to impose order on its w o r l d , is made i n t o a generalization or a system, t h a t system fails to operate f o r h u m a n beings, becomes a rational or emotional i l ­ lusion. M a n , i n i r i s M u r d o c h ' s w o r l d , i s p a r t creature, p a r t r a t i o n a l and conscious being. He has a strong need f o r the d e f i n i t i o n , the precision, his conscious nature can provide. B u t he also needs t o l i m i t the definition, t o recognize t h a t elaborate definitions, generalizations, make splendid targets f o r the shafts of the creature, the separate and p a r t i c u l a r and often u n c o n scious situations t h a t make up h u m a n experience. T h r o u g h o u t Miss M u r d o c h ' s first f o u r novels, the creature is given f o r m p r i m a r i l y t h r o u g h its opposition to other more pre­ cise, elaborate, or bizarre forms. T h e creature is often articulated by w h a t it is n o t , by the nets or traps or enchantments it avoids.

A l i the novels include one or more God-images, characters of

stating

OF

from

the

Enchanter.

H e telis Rosa: " Y o u w i l l never k n o w the t r u t h , and y o u w i l l read the signs in accordance w i t h y o u r deepest wishes. T h a t is w h a t we humans always have to do. R e a l i t y is a cipher w i t h m a n y solutions, ali o f t h e m the r i g h t ones" ( p p . 3 0 4 - 3 0 5 ) . A n d the God-figures, those w h o abstract reality i n t o a theory or a message, i n v a r i a b l y miss or c o n t r a d i c t the p o i n t .

In Miss Murdoch's

fifth

novel, A Severed Head

( 1 9 6 1 ) , how-

ever, the p r i m i t i v e h u m a n creature, a v o i d i n g the traps and the generalizations most h u m a n beings succumb t o , is given a f o r c e f u l , dramatic, and bizarre presence in the figüre of H o n o r K l e i n . In the m i d s t of a g r o u p of urbane Londoners, characters w h o d r i f t i n t o and o u t o f numerous love affairs, w h o constantly define and redefine themselves and their emotions, H o n o r K l e i n , an a n t h r o p o l o gy don at Cam bri dge, represents a p r i m i t i v e , permanent h u m a n force t h a t ali the other characters no longer recognize in themselves. She sees t h r o u g h the pretenses of others, she cannot be appeased by the accepted banter of a c i v i l i z e d soci­ ety, and she recognizes the violence and the force of the u n c o n scious in the nature of m a n . T h e novel itself is seen f r o m the p o i n t o f v i e w o f M a r t i n L y n c h - G i b b o n , polite, educated, the head of a small firm t h a t i m p o r t s claret, an amateur m i l i t a r y historian. A t the b e g i n n i n g o f the novel M a r t i n i s content b o t h w i t h his c h a r m i n g , social w i f e and w i t h his y o u n g mistress w h o lectures in economics at the U n i v e r s i t y of L o n d o n . M a r t i n is able to divide his relationships quite neatly, to manage a comfortable

i r i s M u r d o c h ' s images f r e q u e n t l y place the formless against

and u n d e m a n d i n g existence w i t h ease and eclat. H e is p r o u d o f

the precise, the fish or the woods against the a r c h i t e c t u r a l l y

his distance f r o m the barbaric centers of h u m a n feeling. B u t

devised or the man-made cage. A n d w h e n the man-made image,

y/hen his w i f e suddenly fails in love w i t h her psychiatrist, Palmer

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19 i

Anderson, w h o is H o n o r Klein's h a l f brother, she sets off a chain

always false, always an enchanting abstraction by means of

of new allegiances and new definitions w h i c h destroys M a r t i n ' s

w h i c h the h u m a n being, either deliberately or accidentally,

l i t t l e f o r m u l a for c o m f o r t . T h r o u g h o u t the s h i f t i n g alliances and

deludes b o t h others and himself. The rational approach is also

infidelities, M a r t i n becomes more and more d r a w n to H o n o r

made ludicrous t h r o u g h the person of Palmer A n d e r s o n , a psy-

K l e i n , sensing the magnetic force of this superfîcially u n a t t r a c t i v e

chiatrist. Palmer, to w h o m M a r t i n is also attracted, is announced

w o m a n . Even at their first meeting M a r t i n had been struck by

as a m a n w h o can liberate people f r o m the restrictive patterns

H o n o r ' s presence:

i n w h i c h they were b r o u g h t u p , b u t his liberations, i n fact,

Divested of her shapeless coat she seemed taller and more dignified. But it was her expression that struck me. She stood there in the doorway, her gaze fixed upon the golden pair by the fire, her head thrown back, her face exceedingly pale; and she appeared to me for a second like some insolent and powerful captain, returning booted and spurred from a field of triumph, the dust of battlc yet upon him, confronting the sovereign powers which he was now ready if need be to bend to his will. [Pp. 6 7 - 6 8 . ]

consist of a series of cliches: he talks often of his love t h a t is "something bigger t h a n ourselves"; he is determined to " u n d e r ­ s t a n d " everyone and e v e r y t h i n g , assuming that, once understood, a p r o b l e m or a relationship is solved; he approaches ali h u m a n relationships w i t h a wide-eyed frankness t h a t i n v a r i a b l y misses the p o i n t . T h r o u g h Palmer and his psychiatry, Miss M u r d o c h points o u t the lack of perception i n v o l v e d in a p p l y i n g rational formulas to the behavior of h u m a n beings. images of the head, the focal p o i n t of the r a t i o n a l , appear

A s a m i l i t a r y historian M a r t i n w o u l d t h i n k o f power i n m i l i t a r y terms, and the m i l i t a r y image, complete w i t h a samurai sword and b l u n t commands, continues t h r o u g h o u t the novel. L i k e Miss M u r d o c h ' s other novels, A Severed Head mocks the

t h r o u g h o u t the novel. At the very b e g i n n i n g M a r t i n is pleased because his mistress, Georgie, is so sensible and rational. He simply means that she makes no demands upon h i m . He finds her head p a r t i c u l a r l y attractive, and keeps repeating t h a t each finds c o m ­

spurious k i n d o f r a t i o n a l i t y m a n invents f o r himself. W h e n

f o r t or pleasure by l o o k i n g at the head and face of the other.

M a r t i n is first t o l d of his wife's affair w i t h Palmer Anderson, he

T h i s sensible affair, along w i t h other sensible relationships and

is asked to be r a t i o n a l and understanding, specifically to remain

Georgie's past sensible a b o r t i o n , drives Georgie to an a t t e m p t at

f r i e n d l y w i t h the pair, t o dine w i t h t h e m often and j o i n them

suicide. Y e t M a r t i n ' s interest in heads continues. He constantly

f o r d r i n k s in their bedroom. R a t i o n a l i t y , in this society, is close

pictures Palmer and A n t o n i a as heads, Palmer's a distinguished

to s t e r i l i t y , a f o r m of gentle behavior t h a t refuses to make any

gray c r e w c u t and A n t o n i a ' s a w a r m and f a d i n g cloud of golden

distinctions a m o n g various h u m a n entanglements. W h e n M a r t i n ' s

hair. M a r t i n ' s brother Alexander, a m a n w h o d e r i v a t i v e l y echoes

w i f e , A n t o n i a , after leaving Palmer and r e t u r n i n g to her hus­

M a r t i n in choosing his w o m e n in this s h i f t i n g and directionless

band, again announces t h a t she is h a v i n g an affair, this t i m e

system of sexual alliances, shares the interest in heads. As a

w i t h M a r t i n ' s brother, she repeats her request t h a t M a r t i n be

sculptor, Alexander feels t h a t the head is the most i m p o r t a n t

ra t i ona l. She stili wants M a r t i n to hang around, to share the

p a r t of the h u m a n being. Alexander, Georgie, Palmer, and

f u r n i t u r e and the i n t i m a t e luncheon conversations. A n t o n i a is

A n t o n i a , each m a n l i v i n g w i t h each w o m a n at some p o i n t in the

the e m o t i o n a l l y self-centered person w h o uses words like " r a t i o n ­

novel, are ali p a r t of the society t h a t deludes itself, t h a t talks of

a l i t y , " "tolerance," and " u n d e r s t a n d i n g " as o n l y half-conscious

the head or the r a t i o n a l under the assumption t h a t the h u m a n

guises f o r a desire to possess simultaneously ali the men she

being is able to c o n t r o l and to f o r m u l a t e something crucial about

knows . B u t the r a t i o n a l i t y itself, in Miss M u r d o c h ' s w o r l d , is

his o w n experience.

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I n contrast, H o n o r K l e i n , shapeless, baggy, seeming t o M a r t i n

t i o n , no final answer for m a n . H o n o r and M a r t i n cannot exist

like a "headless sack" w h e n he first meets her at L i v e r p o o l Street

in a h u m a n relationship, for each is "a severed head," an i n c o m -

station on a f o g g y L o n d o n evening, displays l i t t l e interest in

plete h u m a n being. Perhaps the id w o u l d have been sufficient

r a t i o n a l i t y . She recognizes the f o l l y of understanding, of h u m a n

had m a n never developed, never been conscious of any other

definitions of h u m a n love, of endless discussions w i t h i n the

possibilities f o r c o n t r o l l i n g h u m a n experience. B u t h a v i n g at-

c i v i l i z e d modes of behavior. W h e n M a r t i n becomes entranced by

tempted various rational f o r m u l a t i o n s about h u m a n behavior,

her, she explains:

m a n cannot h a p p i l y r e t u r n to the u n s t r u c t u r e d and p u r e l y

Because of what I am and because of what you savv I am a terrible object of fascination for you. I am a severed head such as primitive tribes and old alchemists used to use, anointing it with oil and putting a morsel of gold upon its tongue to make it utter prophecies. And who knows but that long acquaintance with a severed head might not lead to strange knowledge. For such knowledge one would have paid enough. But that is remote from love and remote from ordinary life. As real people we do not exist for each other. [P. 2 2 i . ]

emotional response, cannot retreat i n t o the i d . M a r t i n is maimed p e r m a n e n t l y , "a severed head." T h e egos, the c i v i l i z e d characters t h a t cluster around the i d , w h i r l in a circle of purposeless a e t i v i t y . As engineering and architectural processes were deseribed in great detail in the earlier novels, so in A Severed Head are the m u l t i p l e buildings of love affairs, of h u m a n relationships, detailed extensively to demonstrate h u m a n effort. T h e effort never creates a lasting strueture; it is always as t e m p o r a r y and as inconsequential as the various

A n d M a r t i n , as he becomes more deeply i n v o l v e d w i t h H o n o r

households t h a t A n t o n i a and M a r t i n establish. A n t o n i a and

K l e i n , loses his connection w i t h the urbane, diffuse, and scattered

M a r t i n break up their house and establish others t w i c e in the

w o r l d , becomes himself "a severed head." T h e t i t l e , l i k e those

course of the novel. Each move, w i t h the consequent division of

of most of Miss Murdoch's other novels, w o r k s in more t h a n

p r o p e r t y , is lavishly explained; each new chip on the prized

one w a y : H o n o r K l e i n , c o m p e l l i n g , magnetic, standing f o r a

C a r l t o n House w r i t i n g table is noticed and located. The long lists

central emotional force and able to see t h r o u g h the r a t i o n a l

of belongings and the appearance of removal men indicate the

pretense of the other characters, is "a severed head"; M a r t i n , in

elaborate and purposeless a e t i v i t y i n t o w h i c h man is t h r o w n by

c o m i n g to value H o n o r ' s force, to regard it as something more

his spurious self-definition and sexual realignments. M a n i m -

w o r t h w h i l e and more deeply c o m m i t t e d than his o l d casual

merses himself in the t r i v i a he can c o n t r o l so t h a t he need n o t

c o n t e n t m e n t, becomes himself "a severed head." Y e t the body

face the e n o r m i t y he cannot c o n t r o l .

cannot f u n c t i o n w h e n the head is severed, and H o n o r k n o w s t h a t

Most of the illusions—romantic love, the power of reason,

no relationship between her and M a r t i n can really exist. As

the permanence of the man-made s t r u e t u r e — t h a t t r a p people

p a r a l y z i n g an i l l u s i on as the head m a y be, no h u m a n being can

in Miss M u r d o c h ' s other novels trap t h e m in A Severed Head

survive w i t h o u t one.

as w e l l . T h e novel also contains a God-figure, as, f o r M a r t i n ,

H o n o r , "a severed head," a representation of p r i m a l h u m a n

H o n o r Klein's representation as a p r i m i t i v e , n o n r a t i o n a l id stands

force w i t h o u t the addition of c i v i l i z a t i o n or r a t i o n a l i t y , is the

f o r a k i n d of transcendent honesty and intensity. M a r t i n has

i d . As M a r t i n loses h o l d of the complex and superficial n e t w o r k

always been attracted to the false mystique: in the first scene

of his comfortable alliances, he is d r a w n i n , f u r t h e r and f u r t h e r ,

of the novel, he and Georgie b u r n incense to glamorize their

to the simple and emotional center of being, to the i d . B u t the

l o v e ; t o w a r d the end of the novel, M a r t i n worships the force

i d , the strong and i r r a t i o n a l q u a l i t y of the creature, is no solu-

t h a t surrounds H o n o r K l e i n and elevates the id far beyond the

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status of his old doctrines of wi ne -sa m pl i ng c o m f o r t . Miss M u r ­ doch is, however, careful to distinguish H o n o r ' s f u n c t i o n as a God-figure for M a r t i n f r o m any h i n t o f conventional C h r i s t i -

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did comparable heroes ö v e r their abstractions in any of the earlier novels. Miss M u r d o c h has, in this novel, added another dimension to

anity. H o n o r K l e i n is a Jew, and, as she demonstrates the b r u t a l

her depiction

power of her samurai sword to a fascinated M a r t i n , Miss M u r d o c h

h i g h l y suggestive prose s t i l i mocks man's effort to f o r m u l a t e

of contemporary society.

Her rich,

imagistic,

adds that " i n the distance the c h u r c h bells continued their m a t h -

precise codes, man's ratiocinative pretense. B u t w h a t was, in the

ematical j a r g o n i n g . " The c h u r c h is p a r t of the w o r l d of complex,

earlier novels, simply value as antithesis is, in A Severed Head,

illusory, and rational relationships. H o n o r is a representation,

given its o w n imagistic and bizarre presence, and mocked in

bizarre and t e r r i f y i n g , of one side of h u m a n experience, the

t u r n . H o n o r is a black God-figure, black because her d i v i n i t y

p r i m a l force of the i d . A n d because she is o n l y one side of h u m a n

is n o t in the rational and conventional abstractions w i t h w h i c h

experience, H o n o r , as God-figure, holds no u l t i m a t e l y meaning­

m a n deludes himself: rather, her d i v i n i t y , her power, and her

f u l or saving message for m a n . In a d d i t i o n , at a crucial p o i n t in

h o r r o r exist deeply and centrally w i t h i n the nature of the delud-

the novel, M a r t i n discovers H o n o r i n bed w i t h Palmer Anderson,

i n g and deluded creature himself.

her h a l f brother and the psychiatrist addicted to the most o b v i ous forms of rationalist cliches. T h e God-figure and the D e v i l meet in h u m a n experience, for each is o n l y a simplification of one side of h u m a n experience. A l t h o u g h M a r t i n , forced by the collapse of his comfortable w o r l d , continues to worship H o n o r , Miss M u r d o c h makes it clear that "a severed head" is a ludicrous and ironic god. In Miss M u r d o c h ' s first f o u r novels the God-figure was set against the idea of the simple, spontaneous, u n s t r u c t u r e d crea­ ture. The God-figure, connected to ali man's machinations to achieve some sort of structure and permanence, was mocked, was demolished comically as a futile t h o u g h understandable fabrication. B u t the idea of the creature, the formless center of the h u m a n being, remained inviolate. A Severed Head makes even that possibility ludicrous. The God-figure, less systematic, crystallizes and i m p l i c i t l y satirizes the idea of the creature. T h e creature is, after ali, the i d , and Miss M u r d o c h , in i n f l a t i n g the id to a m o c k God-figure and e n d o w i n g it w i t h samurai swords, relentless force, and an excessive knowledge of h u m a n relation­ ships, mocks the v e r y f a i t h in the creature that pervaded her earlier novels. M a r t i n , the m a n in modern society, loses his head ö v e r this abstraction, this God-figure, to a greater extent t h a n

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group of English schoolboys, between the ages of six and twelve, w h o survive a plane crash on a t r o p i c a l island. The boys were apparcntly evacuated d u r i n g a destruetive atomic w a r and are l e f t , w i t h n o adult c o n t r o l anywhere about, t o b u i l d their o w n society on the island. T h e chance to create a new paradise is clear enough, b u t G o l d i n g q u i c k l y indicates t h a t the boys are produets of and i n t r i n s i c a l l y parts of c u r r e n t h u m a n society. Even on the

''Gimmick'' and Metaphor in the Novels of VVilliam Golding

v e r y first page: " T h e fair boy stopped and jerked his stoekings w i t h an automatic gesture t h a t made the jungle seem f o r a m o m e n t l i k e the H o m e Counties." T h e island provides food, p l e n t y o f o p p o r t u n i t y for s w i m m i n g , and " f u n . " B u t a conflict q u i c k l y develops between the boys, led by R a l p h , w h o w o u l d keep a fire going ( t h e y eherish some hope of rescue) and b u i l d adequate shelters, and those, led by Jack, o r i g i n a l l y members of a choir, w h o w o u l d h u n t w i l d pigs and give f u l l rcign to their predatory and savage instinets. In the first, demoeratic m c e t i n g

WILLIAM

of

the

Flies

GOLDING

The

HAS

WRITTEN

Inheritors

FOUR

NOVELS:

R a l p h wins most of the boys' votes and is eleeted the leader of the island. B u t the r a t i o n al demoeracy is n o t able to cope v e r y

( 1 9 5 6 ) ; Free Fail ( 1 9 5 9 ) . Each of the first three demonstrates

w e l l w i t h the fears of the younger boys, the occasional tendeney

(1955);

Pincher

Lor d

Martin

(1954);

the use of unusual and s t r i k i n g l i t e r a r y devices. Each is governed

to rash m o b action, the terror of the unexplained "beast" w h i c h

by a massive metaphorical strueture—a m a n e l i n g i n g for s u r v i v a l

fills the n i g h t . G r a d u a l l y Jack gains more followers. He paints

to a rock in the A t l a n t i c Ocean or an excursion i n t o the m i n d

himself in savage colors, negleets to t e n d the fire because he is

of man's evolutional antecedent—designed to assert something

mercilessly t r a c k i n g d o w n a w i l d p i g , establishes a w i l d and

permanent and significant about h u m a n nature. T h e metaphors

ritualistic dance that fascinates the boys. W h e n one of the boys,

are intensive, far-reaching; they permeate ali the details and

h a v i n g discovered the rational t r u t h of the "beast" at the top of

events of the novels. Y e t at the end of each novel the metaphors,

the m o u n t a i n

unique and s t r i k i n g as they are, t u r n i n t o " g i m m i c k s , " i n t o

dropped f r o m a battle ten miles above the i s l a n d ) , stumbles i n t o

(the "beast" is a dead m a n in his paraehute,

elever t r i c k s t h a t shift the focus or the emphasis of the novel as

the ritualistic dance, he is forced by Jack to enact the role of

a whole. A n d , in each instance, the " g i m m i c k ' ' seems to w o r k

the p i g . The boy is never given the t i m e or the o p p o r t u n i t y to

against the novel, to c o n t r a d i c t or to l i m i t the range of reference

make the rational t r u t h clear, for the dancers, eloaked in f r e n z y

and meaning t h a t G o l d i n g has already established m e t a p h o r i -

and darkness, k i l i h i m . R a l p h is unable t o stop the others, and

cally. T h e t u r n f r o m metaphor t o " g i m m i c k " ( a n d " g i m m i c k "

even, to his shame, recognizes some of the same da rk f r e n z y at

is the w o r d t h a t G o l d i n g himself has applied to his o w n endings)

the center o f his o w n being. A n d P i g g y , Ralph's " b r a i n t r u s t "

raises questions concerning the u n i t y and, perhaps more i m p o r ­

t h o u g h always u n a t t r a c t i v e and unpopular, the boy whose glasses

t a n t , the meaning of the novels.

got the fire going in the first place, is k i l l e d by Jack's p r i n c i p a l

Golding's first novel, Lord of the Flies, telis the story of a

lieutenant. Jack is victorious. H i s dogmatic a u t h o r i t y , his c r u e l t y ,

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and his barbaric frenzy have a deeper h o l d on the nature of

n o t capable o f t h i n k i n g , o f abstraction, o r o f f o r m i n g rational

m a n t h a n do Ralph's sensible regulations. T h e forces of l i g h t and

connections. T h e y s i m p l y act by i n s t i n c t and "have pictures,"

reason f a i l to alleviate the predatory b r u t a l i t y and the dark,

m a n y of w h i c h they do n o t understand. Y e t , f o r ali their per-

p r i m e v a l fear at the center of m a n .

ceptual and intellectual l i m i t a t i o n s , the "people" have a code of

B u t the metaphor of the society the boys construct is n o t l e f t

ethics ( t h e y w i l l n o t k i l i other animals, t h o u g h they do eat the

to do its w o r k alone. Just w h e n the savage forces led by Jack

meat o f animals already k i l l e d ) , a deep and h u m b l e sense o f

are t r a c k i n g d o w n R a l p h and b u r n i n g the whole island to f i n d

their o w n l i m i t a t i o n s , and a f a i t h in the d i v i n e power and

h i m , a B r i t i s h naval officer arrives to rescue the boys. I r o n i c a l l y ,

goodness of the earth. In a d d i t i o n , the "people" enjoy a f a m i l y

the smoke of barbaric f u r y , n o t the smoke of conscious effort,

life free f r o m f i g h t i n g , g u i l t , and emotional squabbling. Each

has led to rescue. T h r o u g h o u t the novel, frequent references to

has his f u n c t i o n , carefully defined and l i m i t e d , each his respect

possible rescue and to the sanity of the adult w o r l d seemed the

f o r the other members of the f a m i l y . T h e novel is the proccss

delusions of the rational innocent. R a l p h and Piggy often ap-

of man conquering the "people," c a p t u r i n g or k i l l i n g them one

pealed to adult sanity in their f u t i l e a t t e m p t to c o n t r o l their

by one. T h e last of the "people" is able to w a t c h m a n , to under­

w o r l d , b u t , suddenly and inconsistently at the end of the novel,

stand d i m l y man's power and v i c t o r y . B u t this last s u r v i v o r of

adult sanity really exists. T h e h o r r o r of the boys' experience on

the "people" is also able to sense in w h a t ways m a n is a creature

the island was, after ali, really a childish game, t h o u g h a p a r t i c -

different f r o m the "people." He watches m a n b r a w l and f i g h t ,

u l a r l y vicious one. The B r i t i s h officer t u r n s i n t o a publ ic school

steal other men's mates, suffer g u i l t and anxiety, tear himself

master: " I should have t h o u g h t t h a t a pack o f B r i t i s h boys—

apart between his real a b i l i t y and his failure to exceed his l i m i t a ­

you're ali B r i t i s h aren't y o u ? — w o u l d have been able to p u t up

tions. The novel carries the i m p l i c a t i o n t h a t man's unique power

a better show t h a n t h a t " ( p . 2 4 8 ) . T h e officer's density is appar-

to reason and t h i n k carries w i t h it his propensity t o w a r d pride

ent, b u t the range of the whole metaphor has been severely l i m ­

and sin and g u i l t , t o w a r d those qualities t h a t cause h i m pain and

ited. C e r t a i n l y the whole issue, the whole statement about man, is

misery.

n o t contradicted by the ending, f o r , as G o l d i n g d i r e c t l y points o u t , R a l p h has learned f r o m the experience: " A n d i n the m i d ­ dle of t h e m , w i t h filthy b o d y , m a t t e d hair, and u n w i p e d nose, R a l p h w e p t for the end of innocence, the darkness of man's heart, and the f a i l t h r o u g h the air of the true, wise f r i e n d called P i g g y " ( p . 2 4 8 ) . B u t the rescue is u l t i m a t e l y a " g i m m i c k , " a t r i c k , a means of c u t t i n g d o w n or softening the implications b u i l t up w i t h i n the structure of the boys' society on the island.

Most of the novel is t o l d f r o m the p o i n t of v i e w of the last of the "people," a h u m b l e creature w h o depicts the issues w i t h o u t f u l l y understanding t h e m . T h e last chapter, however, p r o ­ vides a s w i t c h in p o i n t of v i e w , f o r it is seen t h r o u g h the eyes of one of the m e n after the "people," the " d e v i l s " in h u m a n t e r m i n o l o g y , have been w i p e d out. T h e theme does n o t change: m a n sees himself as a being t o r t u r e d b y pride and g u i l t , one w h o has f a i t h in his power b u t c o n t i n u a l l y runs i n t o conflict w i t h

Golding's second novel, The Inhcritors, relates the story of the

other men and w i t h his o w n l i m i t a t i o n s . Here, the " g i m m i c k "

last f a m i l y of man's ancestors, conquered and supplanted by

does n o t change or v i t i a t e the p o i n t of the novel. Rather, the

m a n . T h e f a m i l y o f "people" (Golding's w o r d for the heavy,

" g i m m i c k , " the s w i t c h i n p o i n t o f v i e w , merely repeats w h a t

h a i r y , apelike forerunners of m a n ) migrate to their spring home

the rest of the novel has already demonstrated. Awareness and

and slowly realize t h a t things have changed, slowly discover the

rational intelligence are s t i l i i n e x t r i c a b l y connected w i t h human

encroachments of a tribe of "others" ( m e n ) . The "people" are

sin, and the " g i m m i c k " at the end of the novel breaks the u n i t y

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w i t h o u t adding relevant perspective. T h e contrast between the "people" and men is more effectively detailed, made more sharply applicable and relevant, w h e n d i m l y apprehended by the last of

WTLLIAM

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201

edge of the clifF, traced the slope down, trench after aching trench . . . understood what was so hauntingly familiar and painful about an isolated and decaying rock in the middle of the sea. [P. 174.]

the "people." Man's capacity to reason is again ineffectual in Golding's t h i r d novel, Pincher Martin.

OF

Christopher M a r t i n

S i m i l a r l y , the issues of M a r t i n ' s salvation or d a m n a t i o n are

("Pincher"

presented w i t h i n his o w n body. He sometimes feels his "center"

because he has presumably stolen almost e v e r y t h i n g he's ever

in conflict w i t h the m e m o r y of his loins. H i s eyes are " w i n d o w s . "

h a d ) , a naval officer, is b l o w n i n t o the N o r t h A t l a n t i c w h e n

The forces of nature t h a t defeat h i m are l i n k e d to forces w i t h i n

a submarine attacks his ship. F i g h t i n g the water and shrieking

himself. Ocean currents are tongues; the m i n d is a " s t i r r e d

f o r rescue, he eventually finds a r o c k in the m i d d l e of the ocean.

pudding":

He laboriously makes his w a y to the surface of the rock. C o n vinced of his health, his education, and his intelligence, he c o n sciously sets about o r g a n i z i n g his r o u t i n e, n a m i n g places, gatheri n g food, d o i n g ali t h a t rational m a n can do to insure his s u r v i v a l and rescue, his u l t i m a t e salvation. B u t t i m e and weather, forces stronger than he, in a d d i t i o n to his g u i l t y consciousness of past

. . . how can the stirred pudding keep constant? Tugged at by the pull of the earth, infected by the white stroke that cngravcd the book, furrowed, lines burned through it by hardship and torment and terror-unbalanced, brain-sick, at your last gasp on a rock in the sea, the pudding has boiled över and you are no worse than raving mad. [Pp. 190-191.]

sins ( b r o u g h t up t h r o u g h his m e m o r y of his past as actor, seducer, pincher of whatever his friends h a d ) , wear d o w n the rational m a n . A l i his rational efforts f a i l and he is pushed by nature, b o t h external and i n t e r n a l , t o w a r d death and damnation. T h e conflict between s u r v i v a l and e x t i n c t i o n is extended by a consistent use of microcosmic imagery. W h e n M a r t i n first sees the r o c k , G o l d i n g w r i t e s : "A single p o i n t of rock, peak of a m o u n t a i n range, one t o o t h set in the ancient j a w of a sunken w o r l d , p r o j e c t i n g t h r o u g h the inconceivable vastness of the whole ocean" ( p . 3 0 ) . T h e r o c k is constantly compared w i t h a t o o t h of the w o r l d ; the struggles t a k i n g place on the r o c k are a m i r r o r of the struggles t a k i n g place ali ö v e r the w o r l d . M a r t i n ' s battle f o r s u r v i v a l is imagistically made the battle of ali m e n f o r salvation, a battle in w h i c h reason, sanity, and careful order are n o t enough. As the r o c k is imagistically l i n k e d to the larger w o r l d , so is M a r t i n himself made a k i n d of universal focus. H i s head is f r e q u e n t l y a " g l o b e , " his o w n teeth are l i n k e d to the shape of the r o c k : His tongue was remembering. It pried into the gap between the teeth and rç-created the old, aching shape. It touched the rough

T h e microcosmic imagery, connecting the m a n to the r o c k to the u n ı v e r s e , becomes a vast metaphor to convey the f u t i l i t y of man's sanity, of man's careful and calculated attempts to achieve salvation. The ' ' g i m m i c k " in Pincher Martin occurs in the final chapter. H i s body is washed ashore and the naval officer w h o comes to i d e n t i f y h i m points o u t t h a t M a r t i n c o u l d n ' t have suffered l o n g because he d i d n ' t even have t i m e to k i c k off his sea boots. Supposedly, in the narrative itself, the first t h i n g M a r t i n d i d , before he even sighted the r o c k , was to k i c k his sea boots off. In other words, the final scene shows t h a t the whole drama on the rock was b u t a m o m e n t a r y flash in M a r t i n ' s m i n d . T h e dimension of t i m e has been removed and ali the microcosmic metaphor is b u t an instantaneous, apocalyptic vision. In the u l t i m a t e sense this revelation enhances the microcosm, compresses ali the issues i n t o a single instant in t i m e . B u t the revelation, in fact, makes the situation too complete, too c o n t r i v e d , seems to c a r r y the developm e n t of the microcosm to the p o i n t of p a r o d y i n g itself. One can accept the struggle of forces on the r o c k as emblematic of a constant h u m a n struggle, b u t , w h e n the dimension of t i m e is

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someone else. Sammy kept t r y i n g , unsuccessfully, to d r a w Bea­

one immediately t h i n k s of parody in w h i c h the struggle was n o t

trice again. She then became an obsession f o r h i m ; he had to

significant at a l i. Here the " g i m m i c k " extends the technique, b u t

track her d o w n , pursue her, possess her, sacrifice e v e r y t h i n g in

so magnifies and exaggerates the extension t h a t the novel ends

order to gain her. A n d this decision, taken as he left school,

b y s u p p l y i n g its o w n parody.

marks Sammy's loss of freedom. T h e decision, the willingness to

In his most recent novel, Free Fail, G o l d i n g also deals w i t h

sacrifice e v e r y t h i n g to achieve his a i m , is an i n d i c a t i o n of h u m a n

the l i m i t a t i o n and the f o l l y of the assumption t h a t m a n can

pnde and egoism, the conscious h u m a n impulse to abandon

c o n t r o l his universe r a t i o n a l l y , b u t here the f u t i l i t y of rationalism

concern for others, freedom of action, salvation itself, f o r the

is n o t the central issue of the novel. T h e novel, anchored in social

satisfaction of one's o w n end. Sammy relentlessly pursues and

p r o b a b i l i t y more securely t h a n is any of the others, telis the

possesses Beatrice, o v e r c o m i n g her apathy and g e n t i l i t y by sheer

story of Sammy M o u n t j o y w h o rose f r o m the slums of R o t t e n

energy and force. She does n o t satisfy h i m , for the appetite of

R o w to become a successful artist. Sammy, t e l l i n g his o w n story,

h u m a n pride is endlcss, and he deserts her. L i k e Faust, Sammy

searches f o r the m o m e n t at w h i c h he lost his freedom, at w h i c h

loses his freedom w h e n he is w i l l i n g to stake e v e r y t h i n g on the

he made a crucial decision t h a t inescapably hardened his n a t u r a l

satisfaction of his h u m a n pride.

propensity t o w a r d sin. T h e metaphor is Faustian: at w h a t p o i n t

At the end of the novel, w h e n Sammy has discovered his sin,

and f o r w h a t reason was this soul given ö v e r to Satan? Sammy,

the reader suddenly learns t h a t Beatrice has been in a mental

g u i l t - r i d d e n , traces his career l o o k i n g for the p o i n t and the

i n s t i t u t i o n ever since Sammy deserted her seven years earlier.

reason. He q u i c k l y dismisses the p o v e r t y of his b a c k g r o u n d , his

Sammy visits her, b u t she w i l l n o t speak to h i m and she urinates,

illegitimate b i r t h , his y o u t h f u l blasphemy against the C h u r c h ,

in f r i g h t , on the floor w h e n he tries to force her to acknowledge

his early membership in the C o m m u n i s t p a r t y — m o s t of these

his existence. The doctor later telis h i m that Beatrice is incurable.

were external and Sammy was essentially innocent t h e n . He

W h e n Sammy seeks to p i n d o w n just h o w g u i l t y he is, the doctor

waves aside his seduction and subsequent desertion of the depend­

replies:

ent Beatrice, his willingness to betray his comrades w h e n a prisoner of war in G e r m a n y , his dishonesty—these were n o t causes, b u t effects, the patterns established by a m a n already irrevocably fallen. He examines his a t t r a c t i o n to the rationalism preached by an early science teacher, b u t decides t h a t this was n o t the cause, f o r , t h o u g h the doctrine was shoddy and incomplete, the teacher himself was a m a n of principles deeper t h a n those he avowed, and Sammy had always preferred the m a n to the doc­ t r i n e . F i n a l l y , Sammy localizes his loss of freedom in his early decision to pursue Beatrice at whatever cost. He had, w h i l e at school, d r a w n a picture of her and given it to one of his less talented friends to hand in as his o w n . T h e picture was h i g h l y praised; none of Sammy's other drawings received the recognit i o n t h a t this one d i d , and this one was p u b l i c l y credited to

"You probably tipped her över. But perhaps she would have tipped över anyway. Perhaps she would have tipped över a year earlier if you hadn't been there to give her something to think about. You may have given her an extra year of sanity and— whatever you did give her. You may have taken a lifetime of happiness away from her. Now you know the chances as accurately as a specialist." [ P . 248-249.] p

H e r e the " g i m m i c k , " the final scene at the m e n t a l i n s t i t u t i o n , b o t h exaggerates and palliates the metaphorical structure of the novel. The fact t h a t Beatrice is in an i n s t i t u t i o n at ali m a g ­ nifies the external consequences of Sammy's sin and becomes, in Beatrice's u n f o r t u n a t e behavior, almost a parody of the damage caused by h u m a n pride. T h e novel shifts f r o m Sammy's self-

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examination to the disastrous effect of his pride on others. A f t e r Sammy's sin is externalized, the doctor's sensible c o m m e n t questions the possibility of d i r e c t l y c h a r g i ng one person w i t h the responsibility f o r another and, to some measure, cuts d o w n Sammy's g u i l t . B u t the novel was o r i g i n a l l y concerned w i t h Sammy's loss of freedom, w i t h this i n d i v i d u a l and i n t e r i o r issue, reflected by i m p l i c a t i o n inside other h u m a n beings. By m a k i n g the issue exterior, the ending b o t h exaggerates and simplifies the description o f the nature o f m a n i n v o l v e d , b o t h softens and hedges concerning man's g u i l t . T h e Faust legend loses m u c h of

OF

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205

i n the " g i m m i c k s " G o l d i n g uses, " g i m m i c k s " t h a t q u a l i f y the universality of the metaphors, question the pretense t h a t the metaphors contain complete t r u t h . B u t this qualification is achieved at the expense of artistic f o r m , f o r the " g i m m i c k s " also palliate and t r i c k , force the reader to regard the issues somew h a t more superficially even t h o u g h they w i d e n the range of suggestion. T h e " g i m m i c k s " are u l t i m a t e l y unsatisfactory m o d i f i e r s , f o r , i n the k i n d o f qualification they p r o v i d e , they reduce the issues of the novels to a simpler and t r i c k i e r plane of experience.

its power if Faust is to be charged w i t h preaching sedition to his

Golding's metaphors can ali be read as o r t h o d o x and t r a d i t i o n a l

students or if Faust is to w o n d e r about his share of g u i l t w h e n

C h r i s t i a n statements about the nature of m a n . Each metaphor

his students break c h u r c h w i n d o w s . T h e final " g i m m i c k " i n

underlines man's d e p r a v i t y , pride, the f u t i l i t y of his reason. T h e

Free Fail, in m a k i n g i n t e r i o r issues exterior, changes some of the

novels are permeated w i t h the sense o f man's sin and g u i l t , and

m e a n i n g , dissipates some of the force and relevance, of the novel. In each novel the final " g i m m i c k " provides a t w i s t t h a t , in one w a y or another, palliates the force and the u n i t y of the o r i g i n a l metaphor. In each instance G o l d i n g seems to be b a c k i n g d o w n f r o m the implications of the metaphor itself, never really c o n t r a d i c t i n g the metaphor, b u t a d d i n g a t w i s t t h a t makes the metaphor less sure, less p e r m a n e n t ly applicable. T h e metaphors are steered away f r o m w h a t w o u l d seem to be their relentless and inevitable conclusions, prevented, at the v e r y last m o m e n t , f r o m hardening i n t o the complete f o r m o f allegory. I n one sense, each " g i m m i c k " seems to w i d e n the area of the artist's perception as it u n d o u b t e d l y lessens the force of the i m a g i n a t i vc concept. The " g i m m i c k s " supply a w i d c r perspective t h a t makes each o f the f o l l o w i n g questions relevant: I f the a d u l t w o r l d rescues the boys in Lord of the Flies, are the d e p r a v i t y and the b r u t a l i t y of h u m a n nature so complete? H o w adequate is Pincher Martin's microcosmic synthesis, if it ali flashes by in a m i c r o second? Can Sammy M o u n t j o y , l i v i n g in a w o r l d t h a t includes others, t a l k i n g t o t h e m , sleeping w i t h t h e m , helped b y t h e m , keep his g u i l t and the p r o b l e m of his freedom ali to himself? Is the Faust legend an adequate expression of the problems of contemporary man? A l i these relevant questions are i m p l i c i t

the images depict these qualities in conventional C h r i s t i a n terms. The " g i m m i c k s , " however, back d o w n f r o m the f i n a l i t y o f the theologically o r t h o d o x statements. In an age w h e n m a n y other w r i t e r s v i ew man's experience as disparate, impossible to c o d i f y , existential, Golding's metaphors are at least sufficiently unique to suggest the r e a l i t y , the permanence of the t r a d i t i o n a l C h r i s t i a n explanation o f the nature o f m a n . B u t , then, the " g i m m i c k s " seem to provide some concession to contemporary man's fear of generalized absolutes, to his existential a t t i t u d e . T h i s is n o t to suggest t h a t G o l d i n g reverses his metaphors w i t h these slender " g i m m i c k s , " t h a t the novels u l t i m a t e l y demonstrate the failure of the o r t h o d o x explanations. Rather, the metaphors s t i l i stand; the o r t h o d o x C h r i s t i a n versions of man's d e p r a v i t y and l i m i t a tions, in Golding's w o r l d , s t i l i convey a great deal t h a t is relevant and permanent. B u t they d o n o t convey e v e r y t h i n g . T h e " g i m ­ m i c k s " suggest t h a t the o r t h o d o x C h r i s t i a n explanations are n o t q u i t e adequate for contemporary m a n , a l t h o u g h t hey are too t r i c k y and slender to do more t h a n suggest. T h e " g i m m i c k s , " precisely because they are " g i m m i c k s , " f a i l to define or to a r t i c ulate f u l l y just h o w Golding's metaphors are to be qualified, directed, shaped in contemporary and m e a n i n g f u l terms. T h e " g i m m i c k s " t e n d t o s i m p l i f y and t o palliate, rather t h a n t o

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enrich and intensify the experience of the novels. For ali his unique brilliance and his s t r i k i n g metaphors, G o l d i n g has n o t yet w o r k e d o u t a novelistic f o r m adequate for the f u l l t o n a l and d o c t r i n a l range of his perception.

13

Some Current Fads

MOST OF T H E BRITISH

FICTION

OF T H E

PAST DECADE

has been h i g h l y popular and publicized. Reviews in newspapers and magazines, articles in l i t e r a r y journals, and interviews on radio or television have been concerned w i t h m a n y of the w o r k s and their authors. W i t h ali this a t t e n t i o n , i n b o t h B r i t a i n and A m e r i c a , popular j u d g m e n t has n o t always been sound or disc r i m i n a t i n g . Several w r i t e r s have, in the course of the p u b l i c enthusiasm for contemporary B r i t i s h w r i t i n g , developed reputations far beyond a n y t h i n g merited by either their statements concerning contemporary problems or their l i t e r a r y s k i l l . A m o n g the w r i t e r s I find most overrated are C. P. Snovv, Lawrence D u r r e l l , and C o l i n W i l s o n . C. P. Snow has published a series of eight sober novels under the general t i t l e of Strangers and Brothers (this is also the t i t l e of the first novel of the series, published in 1 9 4 0 ) . These novels record, in the first person, the experiences of a lawyer and g o v e r n m e n t administrator named Lewis E l i o t , dealing w i t h his b a c k g r o u n d , his struggles, his friends, his college at Cambridge, and the complicated society he lives i n . Lewis E l i o t , l i k e Snow

2o8

CURRENT

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CURRENT

FADS

209

himself b o r n in 1905, details his experiences and his impres-

politics, t h a t his o w n c o n t r i b u t i o n s , t h o u g h competent enough,

sions of society f r o m 1914 u n t i l the m i d d l e 'fifties. T h e course

are n o t apocalyptic revelations, t h a t he has lost his o r i g i n a l

of Eliot's career demonstrates a d r i f t f r o m the o p t i m i s m of

dedication. A n d Lewis E l i o t , Snow's central character, trades

a poor y o u n g m a n v i e w i n g a w o r l d of almost limitless possi-

his early f a i t h f o r a secure and responsible niche w i t h i n the

b i l i t y in the m i d d l e 'twenties, to the measured judgments of a

Establishment, a j o b t h a t is constantly i n v o l v e d in compromises

middle-aged and responsible government administrator. One of

and committee meetings. W h e n , in Homecomings

Lewis' friends, George Passant, a v i t a l and enthusiastic y o u n g

of the characters mentions t h a t he intends to vote Conservative

( 1 9 5 6 ) , one

solicitor in a small t o w n , represents this o p t i m i s m . George, w h o

f o r the first t i m e in his l i f e in the 1951 general election, Lewis

believes s t r o n g l y in progress, has the liberal's f a i t h t h a t the poor

E l i o t , st i li professing leftist sentiments, f u l l y understands. E l i o t

boy, by intelligence and h a r d w o r k , can rise s w i f t l y in the more

adds t h a t in the last t h i r t y years, on the whole, things have "gone

mobile B r i t i s h society of the early 'twenties. He encourages others

worse t h a n we could possibly have i m a g i n e d . "

( i n c l u d i n g Lewis E l i o t ) to learn and study, and forms a " g r o u p "

Lewis E l i o t feels t h a t he has no genuine choice. He defends

of y o u n g and spirited people w h o t a l k about free lives and

his career by repeating t h a t , because government contains the

envision the possibility of a better w o r l d . T h i s o p t i m i s m is at-

o n l y power in a mass society, concerned and responsible m e n

tached to science in The Search (a novel first published in 1934,

must j o i n the g o v e r n m e n t and sit on endless h a g g l i n g committces

then r e w r i t t e n and reissued in 1958, t h a t is n o t p a r t of the

in order to help w i e l d the power as j u s t l y as possible. At times

Strangers and Brothers series), in w h i c h the y o u n g hero, A r t h u r

E l i o t defends the Establishment w i t h a k i n d of irascible petulance

Miles, believes t h a t science contains the key to ali the w o n d e r f u l

directed at those w h o question, b u t w i t h o u t f u l l explanations.

and l i b e r a t i n g possibilities in the universe. Placing this o p t i m i s m

In this w a y , in The New Men ( 1 9 5 4 ) , he tries to c u t off c r i t i c i s m

and f a i t h in progress in the 'twenties m a y be one reason f o r

and to assert secret governmental a u t h o r i t y . In Homecomings,

Snow's enormous p o p u l a r i t y among his o w n generation in A m e r -

he repeats bland assurances t h a t the g o v e r n m e n t was wise to

ica. Vast numbers of Americans, the second generation of the

prosecute a m a n severely f o r passing atomic secrets w i t h o u t

large i m m i g r a t i o n s between 1880 and 1910, felt t h a t the 'tv/enties

e x p l a i n i n g , u p o n a responsible protest, the nature or the i m p o r -

offered new possibilities f o r freedom, science, and unrestricted

tance of the offense. Y e t in other ways E l i o t is an o l d liberal

h u m a n effort. T h e i r families, l i k e those of Snow's characters, had

s t i l i . H e complains t h a t the class strueture has become more

been held back by p o v e r t y and more r i g i d social conventions

r i g i d d u r i n g his l i f e t i m e because the forces of l o u d protest and

before W o r l d W a r I , and the y o u n g intellectuals c o u l d h a r d l y

of skepticism have died d o w n . A n d he satirizes the officials " w i t h

have predicted Spain, N a z i G e r m a n y , and the h y d r o g e n b o m b . Snow's characters f i n d , in later years, l i t t l e to j u s t i f y their opt i m i s t l e assumptions. George Passant, save f o r three years d u r i n g W o r l d W a r I I w h e n h e w o r k s i n Lewis Eliot's government office, never leaves the solicitor's office in the small Mi d l a n ds c i t y . He never even advances beyond the j o b of chief clerk, beaten by his enthusiasm for causes and his unwillingness to compromise his o p t i m i s t i c f a i t h . A r t h u r Miles, the scientist, finally leaves science recognizing t h a t the

field

is f u l l o f compromises and

t h e i r m o r a l certainties, their comfortable, c o n f o r m i n g i n d i g n a t i o n " w h o refuse to keep George Passant in a government office at the end of the w a r . T h e m a t u re E l i o t is always concerned, in one w a y or another, w i t h the Establishment: People of my sort have only two choices in this situation, one is to keep outside and let others do the dirty work, the other is to stay inside and t r y to keep off the worst horrors and know ali the time we shan't come out w i t h clean hands. Neither way is very

2ıO

C U R R E N T FADS

good for one, and if I had a son I should advise him to do what you did, and choose a luckier time and place to be born. [Homecomings, p. 2 j o . ] Snow seems, t h r o u g h E l i o t , to o v e r s i m p l i f y the p r o b l e m . It is n o t t h a t Snow takes a one-sided v i ew of the Establishment, b u t , rather, t h a t he views ali social problems in large and grandiose p o l i t i c a l terms. One either accepts or rejects the g o v e r n m e n t ; no other alternatives are possible; matters of social c o n v i c t i o n or a t t i t u d e are i n v a r i a b l y expressed in reference to practical p o l i t i c a l power. T h r o u g h o u t the Lewis E l i o t novels, Snow c o n t i n u a l l y illustrates some f o r m of the conflict between i n d i v i d u a l c o n science and p o l i t i c a l power. He does n o t make the p r i m a r y over­ simplification t h a t one of these is always good and the other always bad. B u t he does, consistently, f a i l i n t o the secondary oversimplification, the assumption t h a t the conflict between conscience and power serves as an adequate statement for ali man's social and p o l i t i c a l dilemmas. Perhaps Snow's k i n d of oversimplification can be clarified by reference to his recent address e n t i t l e d " T h e T w o C u l t u r e s . " I n this Snow distinguishes the scientific c u l t u r e f r o m the l i t e r a r y and humane, c l a i m i n g t h a t each is i g n o r a n t of the other and t h a t education must f i n d some w a y of j o i n i n g t h e m . B u t Snow's d i s t i n c t i o n barely scratches the surface of the p r o b l e m : W o u l d he have scientists each take f o u r courses in l i t e r a t ü r e ? Should l i t e r a r y students, then, take courses in the theories of m o d e r n physics w h e n they cannot understand the calculus? A n d , more i m p o r t a n t , h o w does Snow's educational r e f o r m affect the p r o b l e m of the educated man's c o n t r o l ö v e r the mass society? W h a t is the p o i n t in dedicating science or l i t e r a t ü r e to the r e f o r m of the society w h e n the most effectively advertised image captures the largest n u m b e r of votes? S i m i l a r l y , Snow's questions to demonstrate t h a t the scientist and the l i t e r a r y m a n are each i g n o r a n t of the other's t r a d i t i o n ( t h e scientists were asked w h o Shakespeare was, and the l i t e r a r y m e n were asked to name the second law of t h e r m o d y n a m i c s ) seem about as relevant to the problems of knowledge, i n s i g h t , and c u l t u r e as were the television q u i z shows.

CURRENT

FADS

211

In a d d i t i o n to the oversimplifications Snow imposes u p o n the novels, Lewis E l i o t , as narrator, demonstrates other difficulties. He is port ra yed as a detached, r a t i o n a l , careful m a n , able to hide his feelings and operate graciously among m a n y different people. Y e t , at the same t i m e , everyone is anxious to confide the most i n t i m a t e details of his personal or professional l i f e to Lewis, as if he were the warmest and most understanding of men. In ali the novels except The Light and the Dark

(1947)

and Time of

Hope ( 1 9 4 9 ) , Lewis is given l i t t l e w a r m t h and his understand­ i n g is almost e n t i r e l y theoretical, b u t b o t h men and w o m e n rush to pour their troubles and their secrets upon h i m . This u n c o n v i n c ı n g character often seems s i m p l y a mechanical device to hold the novels together. As a y o u n g m a n , in Time of Hope, Lewis fails deeply in love w i t h a neurotic y o u n g g i r l named Sheila. He courts her for years, and wins her confidence a l t h o u g h he never wins her love. She fails in love w i t h another m a n , H u g h , as weak and uncertain as she is herself. Lewis, in order to have Sheila to himself, convinces H u g h t h a t she's e n t i r e l y m a d and H u g h , always anxious to avoid complications, disappears f r o m the novel. Sheila, deprived of the o n l y m a n she could love, turns to Lewis in desperation and marries h i m because she has no one else. Lewis quite openly assumes the responsibility f o r her, yet, even by the end of the novel, he begins to c o m p l a in t h a t a t t e nt i o n to Sheila has begun to r u i n his career as a barrister. In the novels t h a t deal w i t h his later l i f e , Lewis f r e q u e n t l y repeats the theme t h a t he has sacrificed his career f o r Sheila, a c k n o w l e d g i n g, less and less as t i m e goes on, his responsibility f o r her. Y e t he makes a great m a n y sententious j u d g m e n t s about the responsibilities o f others, o f w o m e n , o f government officials, o f fellows i n colleges. H e demonstrates h o w and w h y others f a i l : George Passant, Jago in The Masters (19 j 1 ) . I do n o t mean to suggest t h a t a narrator m u s t himself be admirable or must n o t allow t i m e t o push h i m i n t o h y p o c r i t i c a l positions. B u t Snow never develops any m e a n i n g f u l f i c t i o n a l distance between author and n a r r a t o r , never creates a solid p o i n t of v i e w t h r o u g h w h i c h Lewis E l i o t can be consistently seen. Rather, Snow uses his

212

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FADS

21 3

na rra t or f o r the purpose o f the m o m e n t : lovesick y o u n g m a n ,

is called suspicious and self-seeking, a l t h o u g h he seems, f r o m

enterprising barrister, cool and i n t e l l i g e n t government official,

ali objective description, innocuously amiable and flat. H o w a r d ,

compassionate f a m i l y m a n w i t h his second w i f e . These purposes

the p r i n c i p a l v i c t i m in the novel, is called rude and t r u c u l e n t

are n o t necessarily consistent, and S n ö w relies solely on a chame-

ö v e r and ö v e r again, although these qualities are barely d e m -

leonlike na rra t or to express his p o i n t of v i ew t h r o u g h a series

onstrated. At a p a r t y early in the novel a l i conversation centers

of eight novels.

around the issue Snow wishes to develop, the ease of scientific

Despite the fact t h a t the novels lack m e a n i n g f u l c o n t r o l ö v e r

forgery t h a t splits the college's fellows i n t o factions, and one

p o i n t of v i e w , other elements in the novels seem far too r i g i d l y

can h a r d l y believe t h a t a Christmas Eve p a r t y is in progress.

under c o n t r o l . T h e same issues, indeed the same conversations,

T h e p a r t y becomes, b l a t a n t l y , a simple excuse f o r demonstrating

sometimes appear at l e n g t h in more t h a n one novel. Lewis E l i o t

a v a r i e t y of views and reactions concerning the forgery. Char-

is able to hire George Passant as his assistant, ö v e r the objections

acterization is often inadequate. Margaret, Lewis Eliot's second

of H e c t o r Rose, in b o t h Homecomings and Strangers and Broth-

w i f e , is a composite of ali possible virtues; she even tries to break

ers; Lewis holds almost identical conversations w i t h a lavvyer

d o w n Lewis' enormous reserve. Charles M a r c h is k i n d and c h a r m -

named Eden about George's t r i a l in b o t h Strangers and Brothers

i n g , a benevolent member of a w e a l t h y f a m i l y , b u t , a l t h o u g h

and Time of Hope. T h e senior f e l l o w of the college is, at great

he is one of the p r i n c i p a l characters in The Conscience of the

l e n g t h , the same tedious c o m b i n a t i o n of senility and l u c i d i t y

Rich, he is never really developed. H i s sister Katherine and her

in b o t h The Masters and in a novel whose action presumably

husband, Francis Getliffe, a scientist of b o t h p r i n c i p l e and c o m -

( 1 9 6 0 ) . Slices oc-

passion, appear in several novels b u t are never f u l l y explored.

c u p y i n g a few pages in one novel often become the m a j ö r theme

Character is often sacrificed to the s u m m a r y of minutes in the

and terms f o r another, as, in Time of Hope, Snow describes the

l o n g committee meeting or the careful r e p o r t i n g of the legal

M a r c h f a m i l y and its attitudes in exactly the same terms t h a t

brief.

takes place seventeen years later, The Affair

make up the p r i n c i p a l theme of The Conscience of the Rich

Sometimes, too, in the w o r k of C. P. Snow, character is sacri-

( 1 9 J 8 ) . Similar p l o t devices keep reappearing t h r o u g h o u t the

ficed f o r melodrama. For example, Paul Jago, the leading candi-

novels. B o t h his first w i f e , Sheila, and his second w i f e , Margaret,

date and the one Lewis E l i o t supports in The Masters, is described

j i l t Lewis Eliot under identical circumstanccs. Each time he

as an unusually w a r m and humane m a n . T h e w a r m t h is never

goes away on holiday or on business, apparently secure, and

depicted,

returns to f i n d t h a t his love has promised to m a r r y or has

T h r o u g h the l o n g controversy about w h o is to become the n e x t

m a r r i e d someone else. In exactly the same w a y , the cold, distant

master of the college, another side of Jago g r a d u a l l y begins

hero of The Search is j i l t e d w h e n he goes to M u n i c h to do research

to appear. He is erratic, somewhat unstable, apt to f l y i n t o a

simply

explained

and

discussed

by

other

people.

f o r three months. T h e sameness of these passages and devices

rage ö v e r t r i v i a , and these qualities are depicted t h o r o u g h l y

gives a sense of s t e r i l i t y to Snow's fictional w o r l d .

and s k i l l f u l l y . H i s unpredictable rages, as w e l l as his Conservative

A t times Snow's w r i t i n g i s wooden. O f t e n , p a r t i c u l a r l y i n

politics, lose h i m the election t h a t seemed almost certain at the

The Affair, the least effective of the eight novels, Snow introduces

b e g i n n i n g of the novel. B u t the w a r m t h and the h u m a n i t y were

a character by e x p l a i n i n g prosaically w h a t the character is sup-

s i m p l y a b l i n d , s i m p l y a preparation f o r a melodramatic shift

posed to illustrate rather t h a n by credi bly showing the char-

rather t h a n a p a r t of the man's character. Jago is, however,

acter's speech and action. A t the v e r y b e g i n n i n g T o m O r b e l l

redeemed in The Affair. A l t h o u g h he has k e p t away f r o m the

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college f o r the i n t e r v e n i n g seventeen years, he reappears at the

fondness, and the r i c h detail t h a t are almost i n v a r i a b l y absent

crucial m o m e n t , demonstrating, this t i m e quite specifically, ali

f r o m his novels more dependent on melodramatic t r i u m p h s of

his w a r m t h and force and h u m a n i t y , to see t h a t justice is done.

justice or on sober and qualified defenses of the government. Even

Character is the vehicle f o r melodramatic t r i c k s rather t h a n an

The Search, t h o u g h n o t a good novel, contains some effective

a t t e m p t to probe the nature of m a n . M a n y of Snow's novels are

passages deseribing c r i c k e t matches and the p o l i t i c a l conservatism

melodramatic t h r i l l e r s . The Masters builds on the suspense of

of an o l d scientist in the 'twenties. B u t Snow's talent f o r e v o k i n g

the college election. The Affair, f u l l of parallels to the D r e y f u s

social h i s t o r y seems to be l i m i t e d to some t i m e before W o r l d

ease, vindicates justice after a long struggle w i t h the forces o f

W a r I I . Lewis E l i o t , as he narrates The Affair, w h i c h takes place

reaction. Strangers and Brothers ends w i t h Lewis E l i o t , n o w a

İn 1954, seems completely o u t of t o u c h . He tries to deseribe

lawyer, h e l p i n g to c o n t r i v e a dramatic a c qui t t al f o r George

the new fellows in the postwar Cambridge college, b u t recog­

Passant and some of his friends on a charge of f r a u d . T h o u g h

nizes h o w far he is removed f r o m t h e m . He uses a y o u n g English

acquitted, George is never entirely redeemed by the society, b u t

don named ince as one of his p r i n c i p a l examples. He is shocked

he has had his m o m e n t of drama and remains a n a î v e b u t noble

at Ince's iconoclasm, his lack of interest in politics, his desire

hero. A l i these novels are f u l l o f t r i a l scenes, s t a r t l i n g revelations, and dramatic reversals w h i c h even Lewis Eliot's measured calm cannot quite tone d o w n . The Search also ends on a note of h i g h drama. A r t h u r Miles, no longer a p r a e t i c i ng scientist, has t r i e d to help an o l d f r i e n d , an i n f e r i o r scientist w h o m a r r i e d A r t h u r ' s first love, by g i v i n g h i m some scientific data. B u t the f r i e n d , Sheriff, cannot w a i t for the slow success t h a t A r t h u r ' s data offer. Sheriff picks up some experiments and fudges the results in order t o obtain q u i c k p u b l i c a t i o n . O n l y A r t h u r has the i n f o r m a t i o n to demonstrate t h a t Sheriff has been dishonest, and the novel becomes the struggle, in A r t h u r ' s m i n d , between l o y a l t y to his f r i e n d and the dedication to science t h a t w o u l d demand he publish the f r a u d . A r t h u r is t o r n , b u t f i n a l l y decides n o t to expose the f r a u d , k n o w i n g t h a t he has simultaneously k i l l e d any possibility for his o w n r e t u r n to science.

to seem more lower-class t h a n he is, his devotion to the analysis of a single novel by C o n r a d , his preferences f o r beer and jazz. B u t the details, accurate as they are about a phenomenon of the 'fifties, are n o t enough f o r Snow. He somehow seems compelled to make ince completely irresponsible about college justice (and, as such, one of the p r i n c i p a l villains of the nove l) s i m p l y be­ cause ince is b l u n t l y indifferent to the squabbling about the g r a n d issues of C h u r c h and State. Snow's w o r k seems curiously o u t of date. In a d d i t i o n to the oversimplification, the woodenness, and the melodrama t h a t mar some of the w r i t i n g , C. P. Snow's novels are l i m i t e d by perspeetives relevant o n l y to the 'twenties and the 'thirties, perspeetives that can evoke the past nostalgically b u t seem quaint and superficial w h e n applied to B r i t a i n since 1945-

Snow's novels are most effective w h e n they r e l y on a k i n d of

A l t h o u g h he had previously published novels, travel books,

nostalgic social history. Generally, the best novels are those

essays, and poetry, Lawrence D u r r e l l became w e l l k n o w n and

dealing w i t h the early days in Lewis Eliot's career: the accounts

w i d e l y read o n l y w i t h the recent p u b l i c a t i o n o f his A l e x a n d r i a

of his father and his boyhood in Time of Hope; the l o n g deserip-

Q u a r t e t . T h e A l e x a n d r i a Q u a r t e t consists of Justine

tions of melaneholy cricket matches in b o t h Time of Hope and

Balthazar

( 1 9 5 8 ) , Mountolive

( 1 9 5 8 ) , and Clea

(1957),

( 1 9 6 0 ) , ali of

The Light and the Dark; Lewis' fascination w i t h the r i c h f a m i l i a l

w h i c h presumably deal w i t h the theme o f m o d e r n love. I n the

traditions of London's Jewish aristoeracy in The Conscience of

preface to Balthazar, D u r r e l l explains t h a t the first three novels

the Rich. Snow deseribes scenes like these w i t h the ease, the

are intended to be "siblings," equal spatial situations, and t h a t

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the f o u r t h n o v e l adds the dimension of t i m e . W i t h the help of

Palestine. A n d the m u t u a l i n t r i g u e gives Justine, for the first

a characteristic image, D u r r e l l explains:

time, a genuine feeling for Nessim:

Modern literatüre offers us no Unities, so I have turned to science and am t r y i n g to complete a four-decker novel whose form is based on the relativity proposition. Three sides of space and one of time constitute the soup-mix recipe of a continuum. The four novels follow this pattern. T h e "three sides of space" are n o t , however, genuine or equal

The passion of their embraces came from complicity, from something deeper, more wicked, than the wayward temptings of the flesh or the mind. He had conquered her in offering her a married life which was both a pretence and yet at the same time informed by a purpose which might lead them both to death! This was ali that sex could mean to her now! How thrilling, sexually thrilling, was the expectation of their death! [P. 206.]

"siblings," f o r each of the first three novels is, in a w a y , a separate p o i n t of v i e w , and the second and t h i r d novels succes-

A n d in the final novel, after their i n t r i g u e is discovercd, Justine

sively reverse the p o i n t of v i e w of the novel preceding. For ex-

regards Nessim as a " f a t h e r , " a k i n d and compassionatc man.

ample, in Justine, D a r l e y , a y o u n g and naive novelist l i v i n g in

These changes are a l i , in a w a y , f u r t h e r explanations of a spatial

A l e x a n d r i a , falls in love w i t h the strange and sophisticated

c o n t i n u u m , yet they are ali t r i c k s . Each novel seems to establish

socialite, Justine. T h e y have an affair, and D a r l e y assumes t h a t

and to elaborate relationships t h a t s i m p l y anticipate the reversal

Justine is m o t i v a t e d by an ungovernable passion f o r h i m . In

i n the n e x t novel.

Balthazar, a novel in w h i c h Darley's p o i n t of v i e w is elaborated

A n o t h e r m a j ö r character, i n D u r r e l l ' s A l e x a n d r i a before

by the additions of Balthazar, a rational and homosexual doctor,

W o r l d W a r I I , i s the novelist Pursewarden. More successful

D a r l e y learns t h a t Justine has merely used h i m as a decoy. She

and more i n t e l l i g e n t t h a n D a r l e y , he also w o r k s f o r the B r i t i s h

apparently had an affair w i t h h i m simply to focus her husband's

Foreign Office. Pursewarden c o m m i t s suicide. In Balthazar, he

suspicions, w h i l e at the same t i m e she was really in love w i t h

seems to have c o m m i t t e d suicide because he had been unable to

another novelist, Pursewarden. In Mountolive, Justine and her

transcend his art, to see more deeply i n t o experience t h r o u g h the

husband discuss her infidelities. He has, of course, k n o w n about t h e m ali along, and Justine has obviously enjoyed d e l u d i n g D a r l e y . In the final novel, w h i c h takes place some years later, after Justine has been defeated and imprisoned, she uses D a r l e y simply as an o l d f r i e n d w h o comforts her and understands. T h e relationship between Justine and her husband, Nessim, goes t h r o u g h similar gyrations. At first she seems merely an u n f a i t h f u l w i f e . G r a d u a l l y D u r r e l l reveals t h a t this improbable marriage between a poor and b e a u t i f u l Jewess and an aristocratic C o p t has been arranged f o r some p o l i t i c a l purpose. O n l y in the n e x t novel, Mountolive, t o l d f r o m the point of view of the British ambassador in E g y p t , does it become clear t h a t Justine and Nessim are p a r t of an a n t i - B r i t i s h p l o t to smuggle arms i n t o

facts of his novels. B u t Mountolive offers a m u c h more tangible reason: Pursewarden has been duped by his f r i e n d , Nessim. He had refused to believe t h a t his f r i e n d could be w o r k i n g against the B r i t i s h and n o w cannot face the a c k n o w l e d g m c n t t h a t ali his dispatehes to L o n d o n were w r o n g . In Clea, however, Pursewarden's b l i n d sister comes to A l e x a n d r i a . She reveals t h a t she and her brother had been lovers, had even had a c h i l d . H i s love f o r her had r u i n e d his marriage to another w o m a n back in E n g l a n d , some years past. He therefore k i l l s himself in order to free his sister to love another m a n , M o u n t o l i v e , w h o can m a r r y her. A l i the separate motives f o r suicide represent a theory of r e l a t i v i t y , b u t it is a r e l a t i v i t y developed by magician's methods. T h e object changes each time the eloak is flapped in f r o n t of i t .

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In a d d i t i o n , as the stories of Justine and Pursewarden d e m -

ters and quotations f r e q u e n t l y i n t e r r u p t the perspective. P o i n t

onstrate, i n t r i g u e and politics are at least as i m p o r t a n t as love.

of view becomes, in the A l e x a n d r i a Q u a r t e t , a device to f u r n i s h

D u r r e l l ' s k i n d of trickiness pervades the whole A l e x a n d r i a Q u a r t e t , sometimes in even more blatant and obvious ways.

s t a r t l i n g or unusual i n f o r m a t i o n rather t h a n a means of carefully e x p l o r i n g the range and the l i m i t a t i o n s of h u m a n perspective.

T h r o u g h the first three novels, Clea, the b e a u t i f u l artist, is given

D u r r e l l has often been praised f o r the richness and the neo-

a n u m b e r of reasons to avoid any sexual relationship: a dedica-

r o m a n t i c q u a l i t y of his prose. Y e t , f r e q u e n t l y , the prose sounds

t i o n to her p a i n t i n g ; a sophisticated father w h o m she adores; a

b o t h o v e r b l o w n and t r i t e . One of D u r r e l l ' s more moderate and

close friendship w i t h Justine so t h a t she can see the d e b i l i t a t i n g

less c o l o r f u l descriptive passages sounds like a c u l t u r e d and

results of sexual excess; a friendship w i t h Melissa, Darley's o l d

sophisticated travelogue:

mistress, so t h a t she can understand h o w constantly men are u n f a i t h f u l . A l i this seems a b u i l d - u p for the surprise of h a v i n g Clea suddenly become Darley's mistress in the final novel. S i m i l a r l y , ali the novels develop the complete contrast between the elegant Nessim and his u g l y , p r i m i t i v e brother, N a r o u z , simply as preparation f o r the fact t h a t Nessim has N a r o u z murdered f o r p o l i t i c a l purposes. T r i c k y , v i o l e n t , surprising stories are constantly pushed i n t o the novels. One m i n ö r character, an o l d transvestite, telis the story of his father's death. H i s father was d r i v i n g in an early road race w h e n his veil was d r a w n i n t o the axle of the car and he was dragged, c h o k i n g , o u t i n t o the road. T h e story is a v e r y s l i g h t l y altered account of the famous death o f Isadora D u n c a n . Justine is w r i t t e n f r o m Darley's p o i n t of view. The second novel, Balthazar, is also f r o m Darley's p o i n t of v i e w , although additional i n f o r m a t i o n is communicated by the device of h a v i n g Balthazar edit and comment on Darley's manuscript. Balthazar keeps going ö v e r the same incidents, adding, changing, philosop h i z i n g about Darley's nai'vete. D a r l e y refers to Balthazar's constructions as the "great I n t e r l i n e a r . " B u t the insertions also include letters, journals, and frequent quotations f r o m the other characters. T h e p o i n t of view is constantly interleaved by reference to w h a t Clea said or w h a t Pursewarden w r o t e in his notebooks or w h a t Justine's first husband t h o u g h t . Even in Mountolive, the public p u z z l e - s o l v i n g book w r i t t e n f r o m M o u n t o l i v e ' s more careful and objective p o i n t of view, other characters* l e t-

It was a fine day and shallow draught boats wcre coursing among the beanfields totvards the river tributarics, with their long curved spines of mast, lateen rigs bent like bows in the freshets. Somewhere a boatman sang and kept time on a finger-drum, his voice mixing with the sighing of sakkias and the distant village bangings of wheelwrights and carpenters manufacturing disc-wheels for wagons or the shallow-bladed ploughs which worked the alluvial riverside holdings. Brilliant kingfishers hunted the shallows like thunderbolts, their wings slurring, while here and there the small brown owls, having forgotten the night habits of their kind, flew between the banks, or nestled together in songless couples among the trees. The fields had begun to spread away on either side of the little cavalcade now, green and scented with their rich crops of bercim and beanrows, though the road stili obstinately followed along the banks of the river so that their reflections rode with them. [Balthazar, p. 70.] M o r e obvious is the excess of the f o l l o w i n g passage: A message which was to draw me back inexorably to the one city which for me always hovered between illusion and reality, between the substance and the poetic images which its very name aroused in me. A memory, I told myself, which had been falsified by the desires and intuitions only as yet half-realized on paper. Alexandria, the capital of memory! Ali the writing which I had borrowed from the living and the dead, until I myself had become a sort of postscript to a letter which was never ended, never posted. . . . [Clea, p. 11.]

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B o t h these passages are w r i t t e n f r o m Darley's p o i n t of v i e w , and D a r l e y is c e r t a i n l y the most consistent p u r v e y o r of the overelaborate. Y e t the other novelist, Pursewarden, Darley's alterego, is apt to be equally elaborate in p u n c t u r i n g Darley's pretense. Pursewarden is, at least, aware of the k i n d of prose he w r i t e s : " I k n o w m y prose i s touched w i t h p l u m p u d d i n g , b u t then ali the prose belonging to the poetic c o n t i n u u m is; it is intended to give a stereoscopic effect to character" (Balthazar, p. 2 4 5 ) . A n d M o u n t o l i v e , too, the objective and factual m a n , lets the colors transport h i m every t i m e he describes the E g y p t i a n landscape. D u r r e l l also demonstrates a fondness f o r words such as " e t i o l a t e d " and "desuetude" t h r o u g h o u t the novels. References are c o n t i n u a l l y made to other w r i t e r s , to Stendhal, Blake, M a r v e l l , W h i t m a n , E l i o t , A u d e n , Lawrence, and their styles are capsulized in s t r i k i n g images ( " E l i o t puts a cool c h l o r o f o r m pad upon a s p i r i t too t i g h t l y braced by the i n f o r m a t i o n it has gathered") and argued about by the various characters. D u r r e l l has developed a p a r t i c u l a r k i n d of discordant image t h a t figures p r o m i n e n t l y t h r o u g h o u t the A l e x a n d r i a Q u a r t e t . L i k e the " s o u p - m i x recipe" i n the m i d d l e o f the portentous preface to Balthazar, these images t h r o w the v e r y mundane detail i n t o the heavy or r o m a n t i c description. T h e cliche of the r h y t h m of the earth becomes "the earth's o w n systole and diast o l e " ; D a r l e y , in the m i d s t of a melancholy speculation about the excessive pain t h a t love has b r o u g h t h i m , compares himself to a d r y - c e l l b a t t e r y ; an a i r y description of the clouds, the minarets, and the sea of A l e x a n d r i a is disrupted by "the snouts of f o r e i g n m e n - o f - w a r " in the harbor; as N a r o u z dies, " t h e great voice t h i n n e d s o f t l y i n t o the b u r r i n g comb-and-paper sound of a l o n g death r a t t l e " ; ships in the harbor, in the midst of the a c t i v i t y of l o a d i n g and u n l o a d i n g , expose " t h e i r steaming intestines" and are " l a i d open in Caesarian section." A l i these images, as if given liccnse by the theories enlarging the range of poetic d i c t i o n at the b e g i n n i n g of the t w e n t i e t h c e n t u r y , push the discordant almost as far as it can go. These images use the discordant as a contrivance s i m p l y to palliate the o v e r b l o w n

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richness of the s u r r o u n d i n g prose, n o t to demonstrate a n y t h i n g about the i n c i d e n t or the experience itself. D u r r e l l ' s prose is curiously i n v o l u t e d , concerned o n l y w i t h its o w n balances and m o d i f y i n g discords, unconcerned w i t h its supposed subject m a t ter. A n d this i n v o l u t i o n emphasizes the overelaborate q u a l i t y . O t h e r images i n D u r r e l l ' s w o r k are cliches. Seas " l i c k " piers and characters feel "the t u g o f memory's heavy p l u m b - l i n e " i n the elaboration of a cliche. The b r u t a l and exotic q u a l i t y of the c i t y of A l e x a n d r i a is also done in images, images t h a t seem to combine the cliche and the elaborately discordant: Voices of girls, stabbing of Arab quarter-toncs, and from the synagogue a metalik drone punetuated by the jingle of a sistrum. On the floor of the Bourse they were sereaming like onc huge animal in pain. The money-ehangers were arranging their currencies like swects upon the big squared boards. Pashas in scarlet flowcrpots reclining in immense cars like gleaming sareophagi. A dwarf playing a mandolin. An immense eunuch w i t h a carbuncle the size of a brooch eating pastry. A legless man propped on a trolley, dribbling. [Clea, p. 6 6 . ] T h e i n t r i c a c y of the imagery almost hides the description of the d i r t of Alexandria. D u r r e l l ' s novels are also m a r r e d by l o n g and pretentious speculations about the eternal verities. D a r l e y cautions himself endlessly about m a k i n g h u m a n j u d g m e n t s , wonders w h a t the nature of t r u t h or the nature of art is, and philosophizes about the d i c h o t o m y betvveen body and soul w h i c h he feels in his o w n experience. L i k e the prose, these speculations are elaborate wisps. Pursewarden moeks Darley's devotion t o "Beauty and T r u t h , " b u t he, too, indulges in l o n g , and equally airy, disquisitions on the nature of art. Pursewarden keeps developing his theory of the novel as a series of " s l i d i n g panels," a series of impressions, facts, and theories, i n d i v i d u a l l y disjointed, w h i c h compose a w o r k of art as a whol e. Seldom have so m a n y notebooks and quotations been necessary to explain impressionism. D u r r e l l ' s t h e o r i z i n g , l i k e his prose, seems excessively elaborate decoration c o n t r i v e d s i m p l y to disguise or ennoble w h a t is essentially a series

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of s t a r t l i n g t r i c k s and reversals. D u r r e l l has really w r i t t e n

FADS

223

A u s t i n N u n n e is actually the story of Jack the Ripper set in

" a d u l t " thrillers in the exotic setting of a c o r r u p t A l e x a n d r i a .

contemporary L o n d o n , and W i l s o n points o u t the parallel a

B u t sometimes I wonder. Is the whole A l e x a n d r i a Q u a r t e t really

n u m b e r of times. As Gerard slowly realizes t h a t A u s t i n is a m a d

an elaborate hoax, calculated to satirize the lavish praise t h a t ali

c r i m i n a l , he becomes closer to h i m and loses no o p p o r t u n i t y to

the o v e r b l o w n prose and the pompous t h e o r i z i n g has received?

t r y t o understand h o w A u s t i n operates. Gerard concludes t h a t

T h i s seems t o m e barely possible, t h o u g h u n l i k e l y . I f so, i f

A u s t i n ' s insanity is t y p i c a l and represents the insanity of the

D u r r e l l is really deliberately overdecorating his thrillers to spoof

whole age. In the course of the novel Gerard also meets and

a p u b l i c concerned w i t h art, sensitivity, c u l t u r e , and fine w r i t -

becomes f r i e n d l y w i t h O l i v e r Glasp, a painter w h o is in love

i n g , I applaud his achievement. He then has fooled me, too.

w i t h a t w e l v e - y e a r - o l d g i r l . Glasp's love is pure and, w h e n he discovers t h a t the g i r l , one of seven c h i l d r e n l i v i n g in a slum,

Since the i n i t i a l praise t h a t welcomed C o l i n W i l s o n ' s pseudophilosophical treatment of his reading in The Outsider in 1956", most of his reputation as a p r o f o u n d commentator on his t i m e has died d o w n . Y e t C o l i n W i l s o n has continued to w r i t e . A n d , in t w o recent novels, Kitual in the Dark ( 1 9 6 0 ) Soho

and Adrift in

( 1 9 6 1 ) , he has represented one possible a t t i t u d e t o w a r d

contemporary experience. Wilson's novels demonstrate a fascin a t i o n w i t h the i r r a t i o n a l and the demonic, w i t h the deeply destructive influences at w o r k w i t h i n the society. T h e hero of Kitual in the Dark, Gerard Sorme, feels himself a rebel against ali o f society:

has already lost her v i r g i n i t y , he becomes so broken up that he moves away. T h e theme of Jack the Ripper indicates a fascin a t i o n w i t h violence as w e l l as w i t h perversion. Gerard, t h o u g h o u t w a r d l y m i l d , walks the streets o f L o n d o n t h i n k i n g o f h o w he w o u l d l i k e to cxterminate the masses, and he immediately recognizes i n c i p i e n t violence in b o t h others and himself. Even H a r r y , the more quiet hero of Adrift in Soho, relishes the details of famous m u r d e r cases and recalls several times t h a t Jack the R i p p e r was a distant relative. The irrational

and

violent

qualities

of

Wılson's

heroes,

however, are docile suburban attitudes w h e n compared to those manifest in another contemporary novel, The Divine and the

I disliked those students because they seemed a sloppy and undisciplined mob of adolescents. That makes me an authoritarian. But I detest the authorities when they stand about in uniforms and give orders. So I dare say I ' m an anarchist. An authoritarian anarchist! [P. 121.] S i m i l a r l y , the hero of Adrift in Soho, a y o u n g m a n t r y i n g to w r i t e a book in L o n d o n , scorns b o t h the p r o v i n c i a l Midlands society he came f r o m and the e m p t y Bohemianism he finds in Soho and N o t t i n g H i l l . Wilson's heroes f r e q u e n t l y voice indisc r i m i n a t e resentment against almost ali other people and groups. Wilson's antisocial heroes are also fascinated by the perverted. Gerard Sorme, almost friendless w h e n the novel begins, soon finds himself h i g h l y interested i n the actions o f A u s t i n N u n n e , a homosexual, a sadist, and finally a murderer. T h e story of

Decay ( 1 9 5 7 ) , by Wilson's f r i e n d , B i l i H o p k i n s . H o p k i n s ' hero, P l o w a r t , is the y o u n g candidate f o r Parliament of an extreme rightest p a r t y , a Neo-Fascist w h o has gone to one of the Channel Islands to provide an a l i bi f o r a m u r d e r he's arranged. P l o w a r t is a maniac w h o worships power, w h o is certain t h a t he alone can c o n t r o l a c o r r u p t and decadent society. He storms about the island, vicious to others, anxious o n l y to impress the y o u n g dame, C l a r e m o n t C a p o t h y . Y e t Cl a re m ont, l i k e the author, is obviously attracted to P l o w a r t , admires his force and power. In w h a t is surely one of the most ineredible suicides in l i t e r a t ü r e , Clare­ m o n t is w i l l i n g to j o i n P l o w a r t in j u m p i n g off the island's craggy roeks i n t o the w h i r l i n g water. For her, t h o u g h she realizes t h a t P l o w a r t cannot rule the w o r l d , this i r r a t i o n a l i m m o l a t i o n is preferable to any f o r m of l i f e . H o p k i n s also demonstrates a

224

CURRENT

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CURRENT

22 J

FADS

v i o l e n t c o n t e m p t f o r any f o r m of physical weakness. He makes

are p u r i t a n i c a l l y shocked at the usual Bohemian's behavior.

Christopher Lumas, a cripple at whose home P l o w a r t stays w h i l e

H a r r y , in one scene in the reading r o o m of the B r i t i s h Museum,

on the island, a wheedling i d i o t . Lumas alternately condones his

is seriously disappointed w i t h himself because he notices an

wife's i n f i d e l i t y b y childishly begging her t o remain w i t h h i m

attractive girl's slip w h e n he should be p a y i n g a t t e n t i o n to his

at any cost and sets elaborate i n f a n t i l e traps to catch her lover.

books on the origins of C h r i s t i a n i t y .

He is treated w i t h o u t the slightest shred of d i g n i t y or compas-

Wilson's t w o novels are less appealing w h e n the l o n g , pre-

sion. A l i the endless rhetoric of the novel, ali the crags and

tentious essays of d o c u m e n t a t i on are addcd to support the hero's

depths and praises of b r ü t e force, are applied to the examination

theories. Gerard Sorme drags in T o l s t o y , Shaw, and Dostoyevsky

of the mindless maniac. A n d t h a t examination is made f r o m the

to

p o i n t of view of pure and mindless fascination.

belligerent,

support

his is

frequent fond

arguments;

of explaining

Harry,

somewhat

his ideas t h r o u g h

less

Shaw,

In contrast, C o l i n Wilson's heroes are innocents, seeking to

Nietzsche, and Thomas M a n n . One feels that each of the heroes

understand ali the violence and i r r a t i o n a l i t y they find around

has just finished a t e r m paper in an elementary u n i v e r s i t y

t h e m . T h e y are i n v a r i a b l y interested i n "visions," i n r e l i g i o n , i n

course called Basic H u m a n i t i e s . T h e novels are also f u l l o f

finding an u l t i m a t e meaning behind the chaotic society they see.

cliches. W h e n H a r r y and Doreen live among the Bohemian

Gerard Sorme confines b o t h his yearnings and his suspicions about

group, w i t h its chaotic sleeping arrangements, i n N o t t i n g H i l l ,

A u s t i n to an aging, bedridden priest. He shows no shame at the

they are v e r y careful to make their l i t t l e r o o m clean, homey, and

s i m p l i c i t y of calling himself an "existentialist" as he wanders

ordered. T h e y admire the artist, R i c k y Prelati, w h o sceludes

about searching f o r a G o d to make e v e r y t h i n g come r i g h t .

himself in the attic to p a i n t, i g n o r i n g the w i l d parties t h a t go on

H a r r y , in Adrift in Soho, is t r y i n g to w r i t e a book t h a t w i l l

below. R i c k y , a m a n of order and c o n t r o l , is also a genuine artist,

explain ali of b o t h secular and spiritual experience. T h e na'ivete

as the whole w o r l d of television, press, and c r i t i c i s m i m m e d i a t e l y

is so t h o r o u g h , so u n d i l u t e d by sarcasm or another p o i n t of v i e w ,

acknowledges as soon as it sees his paintings. T h e search f o r

t h a t it seems u n i n t e n t i o n a l l y c h a r m i n g . Wilson's innocence is

order and meaning, direct and e x p l i c i t , also motivates Gerard in

also evident in another w a y . AH w o m e n in b o t h novels are, w h e n

Ritual in the Dark. S l o w l y , p a i n f u l l y , he becomes aware t h a t

the hero meets t h e m , either pure v i r g i n s or depraved girls w h o

A u s t i n ' s perversion and violence are l i n k e d to shadows of the

w i l l sleep w i t h any m a n available. Gerard encounters Gertrude,

same qualities in m a n y superficially stable and solid citizens

A u s t i n ' s aunt, and Caroline, a y o u n g relative of Gertrude's.

w i t h i n the society.

B o t h Gertrude,

a spinster near f o r t y ,

w h o is interested in

evangelical r e l i g i o n, and Caroline, a f r a n k creature of seventeen, succumb to Gerard's male power w i t h i n a f o r t n i g h t , yet b o t h have been e n t i r e ly v i r g i n a l before. S i m i l a r l y , in Adrift in Soho, H a r r y meets a n attractive A u s t r a l i a n g i r l named Doreen. A l t h o u g h H a r r y and Doreen wander, entranced and disapproving, t h r o u g h the Bohemian w o r l d f o r weeks and share the same bed almost every n i g h t , they confine themselves to chaste cuddles and affectionate

kisses on

the

cheek.

They

approve

of the

Bohemian's r e v o l t f r o m society on an abstract level, b u t they

C o l i n W i l s o n is n o t far enough f r o m his heroes to see t h e m clearly or to use t h e m to provide any i n t e l l i g e n t or m e a n i n g f u l statement about the society. Y e t , f o r ali their na'ivete, his heroes do reflect something about c o n t e m p o r a ry B r i t a i n : the interest i n violence and perversion; the disillusion w i t h the n o t i o n t h a t permissive freedom is the best possible c o n d i t i o n f o r the adolescent; the search f o r order and s t a b i l i t y ; the feeling t h a t o r g a n ized society is shallow and h y p o c r i t i c a l . Y e t Wilson's w o r k s i m p l y refleets. It lacks b o t h the intelligence and the l i t e r a r y d i s t i n e t i o n t o d o a n y t h i n g more.

IDENTITY

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227

and K e i t h Waterhouse, of n a m i n g or t a g g i n g people or things f o r satirical purposes provides f u r t h e r evidence of c o n t e m p o r a ry man's concern w i t h i d e n t i t y . T h e tag is the affiliation too easily made, the security of d e f i n i t i o n made ludicrous because it has been purchased at the price of a more general and i nt a ngi ble understanding. One recent novel locked w i t h i n the p r o b l e m o f i d e n t i t y i n terms of b o t h theme and p l o t is N i g e l Dennis' Cards of identity ( 1 9 5 5 ) . Dennis later dramatized the novel w h i c h has been

Identity and the Existential

produced and published as a play. T h e novel bcgins w h c n three characters, members o f the i d e n t i t y C l u b i n L o n d o n , move i n t o an

abandoned

country

manor

house.

The

three

characters,

s i m p l y by p r e t e n d i n g to be sure of themselves, manage to assert their position and their r i g h t to the house. T h e y accumulate a staff f r o m among the local residents: a middle-aged m a n w i t h A GREAT DEAL OF CONTE MP ORAR Y F ı C T ı O N A N D D R A M A

confronts the p r o b l e m of i d e n t i t y . C o n t e m p o r a r y m a n is often i n v o l v e d in a search f o r his i d e n t i t y , an examination of the possible personal, social, religious, or d o c t r i n a l affiliations by means of w h i c h he can define himself. He longs for the security a specific affiliation can give h i m , w h i l e he finds t h a t the c o m p l e x i t y w i t h i n b o t h himself and his w o r l d cannot be easily expressed t h r o u g h any definable affiliation. In this w a y , heroes o f the w o r k o f W a i n and A m i s examine the class structure o f contemporary B r i t a i n , although they are usually unable and u n w i l l i n g t o become a tangible p a r t o f i t . i r i s M u r d o c h ' s characters search f o r d e f i n i t i o n , t r y to reduce experience to the manageable and comprehensible, b u t none of the definitions, none of the identities, provide any m e a n i n g f u l satisfaction. S i m i l a r l y , the r e v i v al of the mock-picaresque, evident in a novel l i k e J o h n Wain's Hurry On Doıvn, demonstrates the interest i n the p r o b l e m o f i d e n t i t y . The hero, o r i g i n a l l y u n c o m m i t t e d , wanders t h r o u g h o u t the society l o o k i n g f o r some value to w h i c h he can attach himself, seeking to discover w h o and w h a t he is. T h e enormous frequency, in comic w o r k s l i k e those of A m i s

m i l i t a r y bearing and a clipped mustache w h o reveres the t r a ditions of the c o u n t r y and the aristocracy; his devoted and patient sister; a harassed and o v e r w o r k e d doctor; a brisk and competent nurse; an o r d i n a r y w o r k i n g w o m a n i n t i m i d a t e d by the impersonality of the N a t i o n a l H e a l t h Service and of r a t i o n books (the novel takes place in 1 9 5 1 ) . T h e three inhabitants of the house give these five local characters new identities, persuade t h e m t h a t they are and always have been other t h a n they seem. T h e m a n w i t h the m i l i t a r y mustache becomes a b u t l e r , even a l l o w i n g a disreputable past as a seaman to be i n v e n t ed f o r h i m ; his sister, w h o no longer recognizes her brother, becomes the housekeeper and, under the guidance of her i d e n t i t y - c r e a t i n g employers, believes she is m o u r n i n g a husband t h a t she, in fact, never had. T h e ease w i t h w h i c h these people are w i l l i n g to u n dergo changes in i d e n t i t y provides Dennis w i t h an o p p o r t u n i t y f o r satire. For example, the leader of the three zany c l u b m e m ­ bers, called C a p t a i n M a l l e t , says of the local doctor, easily transf o r m e d i n t o his gardener, " H i s is the insanity of the phlegmatic, B r i t a i n - c a n - t a k e - i t t y p e . He has gone on t a k i n g it f o r so l o n g t h a t he no longer knows exactly w h a t it is he is t a k i n g . " B u t , in a d d i t i o n to the easy satire, the device of casually s w i t c h i n g the

2 28

ıDENTıTY

A N D

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IDENTITY

EXıSTENTıAL

A N D

T H E

EXISTENTIAL

229

identities of o r d i n a r y people becomes D e n n i s ' depiction of a

entirely impersonal in order to satirize ali characters. Occasion-

contemporary w o r l d in w h i c h people are so desperately unsure

ally Dennis becomes d i r e c t l y explanatory and essayistic. T o w a r d

of themselves t h a t they require constant exterior c o n f i r m a t i o n

the end of the novel he even adds a l o n g pseudo-Shakespearean

o f w h o and w h a t they t h i n k they are.

p l a y (an entertainment t h a t the servants p u t on f o r the members

Ca pt a in M a l l e t and his cronies are also crooks, s u p p o r t i n g the house on funds ingeniously swindled f r o m the staff. A f t e r the manor house is r u n n i n g smoothly, the captain invites ali the other members of the I d e n t i t y C l u b for a conference. T h e I d e n t i t y C l u b consists o f people w h o , convinced t h a t the theory o f i d e n t i t y is the o n l y m e a n i n g f u l theory i n m o d e r n life, seek to rule the w o r l d by imposing identities on the people they encounter. T h e club's meeting consists of a series of case histories of switches in i d e n t i t y : the y o u n g war veteran w h o ends his

of the i d e n t i t y C l u b ) w h i c h is merely an exercise u n d e r l i n i n g the same problems of confusion in different terms. W i t h i n the welter of styles, however, Dennis keeps h a m m e r i n g the same p o i n t ö v e r and ö v e r again. C o n t e m p o r a r y man's problems center on his confusion about his o w n social, p o l i t i c a l , and personal i d e n t i t y ; m a n was better off, in past cras, w h c n he k n c w w h o and w h a t he was. Y e t , despite ali these l i m i t a t i o n s , the novel is useful because it undcrlines, so abstractly and insistently, w h a t m a n y contemporary writers regard as a crucial issuc f o r m a n .

search f o r ethical and s p i r i t u a l values w i t h w h i c h to attack

In a recent first novel, the search for i d e n t i t y is made even

c o n t e m p o r a ry materialism by becoming a warden to protect

more intense. Jennifer Dawson, in The Ha-Ha ( 1 9 6 1 ) , deseribes

badgers; the y o u n g m a n , b r o u g h t up n o t to fear sex because his

the sehizophrenia of a reserved y o u n g g i r l on seholarship at

parents r a n about naked, w h o is never thereafter sure whether

O x f o r d . The novel begins in a m e n t a l i n s t i t u t i o n where Joseph-

he is a m a n or a w o m a n ; the f o r m e r C o m m u n i s t w h o recants and

ine T r a u g h t o n is recovering f r o m a b r e a k d o w n she suffercd

enters an abbey, subsequently earning a f o r t u n e f r o m the large

w h e n her mother, the o n l y person w i t h w h o m she could make

sales of his f r e q u e n t l y r e w r i t t e n confessions. Dennis uses these

contact, died because of a defeetive eleetric blanket. Josephine

case histories as a means of satirizing c o n t e m p o r a ry hypocrisy,

begins to discover herself t h r o u g h an affair w i t h one of the

lack o f d i r e c t i o n , and lack o f value. The confusion o f i d e n t i t y

other patients, a y o u n g m a n named Alasdair. B u t w h e n Alasdair

represents ali the confusions o f contemporary m a n . A t the end

is diseharged f r o m the i n s t i t u t i o n and leaves w i t h o u t w a r n i n g ,

of the novel the poliçe come to investigate the ownership of the

Josephine falls apart again. She escapes f r o m the hospital and,

manor house. T h e members of the c l u b q u i c k l y escape, leaving

pervaded by a feeling of e x t r a o r d i n a r y lightncss, wanders about

the Ğve i n d e n t u r e d identities to wobble their ways back to their

the countryside t r y i n g to t o u c h , t o feci, t o make contact w i t h

feeble o r i g i n a l selves. T h e c l u b was merely a device to demon-

some reality outside her nebulous self. In her wanderings, a confused c o m b i n a t i o n of trees, r a i l w a y bridges, sex, and c o u n t r y

strate h o w easily c o n t e m p o r a ry m a n can be enslaved. Cards of identity is a l i m i t e d novel. The case histories become repetitious,

each

reinforcing

the

confused

and

directionless

p l i g h t of c o n t e m p o r a ry m a n . T h e jokes soon become stale and predictable, f o r they ali depend on the v i c t i m ' s never being aware of w h o or w h a t he is. T h e style is a somewhat uneven pastiche: sometimes it is q u i c k and conversational;

at other

times it is l o n g - w i n d e d and i n v o l v e d , as if the author is s l o w l y r e m o v i n g himself f r o m his m a t e r i a l ; at s t i l i other times it is

inns, she constantly searehes for some meaningful h u m a n contact t h r o u g h w h i c h to define herself. The whole course of this second b r e a k d o w n , b r i l l i a n t l y w r i t t e n , is, in one w a y , made an analogue f o r the problems ali people of Josephine's generation face: the need for tangible i d e n t i t y , f o r reassurance of m e a n i n g f u l h u m a n existence. Madness oecurs w h e n the sensitive i n d i v i d u a l is no longer able to f i n d her o w n i d e n t i t y in the midst of a b e w i l d e r i n g and uncertain w o r l d .

230

IDENTITY

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EXISTENTIAL

B r i t i s h novels and plays are n o t d i r e c t dramatizations of specific existentialist doctrines, l i k e the p r o b l e m of i d e n t i t y , in the same sense t h a t Sartre has specifically dramatized his p h i losophy i n his l i t e r a r y w o r k , b u t , rather, m a n y B r i t i s h w r i t e r s have adopted attitudes similar to those of the existentialists. T h e existentialists, too, have f r e q u e n t l y used the p r o b l e m of i d e n t i t y as one of the crucial issues m a n faces. Sartre often wonders h o w h u m a n beings define themselves and points o u t t h a t we o f t e n accept the f o r m u l a t i o ns and definitions of o u r selves t h a t other beings t h r u s t u p o n us, however uneasy or i n complete t h a t acceptance is. We have a difficult t i m e defining ourselves w i t h i n a v a c u u m , and sometimes can o n l y define o u r selves in opposition to others, as the members of the French Resistance c o u l d define themselves o n l y in opposition to the Nazis. Camus's heroes also have a great deal of d i f f i c u l t y discovering w h o they are, as Meursault, the hero of The Stranger, can o n l y begin to understand himself in objection to society's impingements upon h i m . O t h e r existentialists, such as the C a t h olic, M a r c e l , also t a l k of the b r e a k d o w n of personality and iden­ t i t y in the t w e n t i e t h c e n t u r y , a b r e a k d o w n t h a t leaves the i n d i v i d u a l i n u n c e r t a i n t y and confusion.

IDENTITY

A N D

T H E

23 I

EXıSTENTıAL

w o r k his o w n w a y t h r o u g h i t . N o objective o r absolute t r u t h lingers behind the system of Sartre or Camus, as no single p o i n t of view can explain the m u l t i p l i c i t y of experience and attitude i n the f i c t i o n a l w o r l d o f iris M u r d o c h o r A n g u s W i l s o n . The p r i n c i p a l f o u n d a t i o n of existentialism is the idea t h a t existence is p r i o r to essence, t h a t a person m u s t assume his existence and the existence of other things and people rather t h a n posit abstract and "essential" natures of people and things. In other words, the existcntialists insist on dealing w i t h the concrete facts of experience, m u l t i p l e and unsystematic t h o u g h they m a y be, rather than t h e o r i z i n g about the general nature of essences. C e r t a i n l y other older doctrines, such as pragmatism, have maintained a similar insistence on the facts of expcrience. Y e t pragmatism, i n the w o r k o f people like D c w c y o r Wılli:ım James, w h i l e a v o i d i n g any n o t i o n of the ideal or the absolute, tends to regard facts as the material for scientific construetions. Pragmatism often assumes that m a n can sort o u t the facts of his experience

and

reach

meaningful,

though

qualified,

general

conelusions f r o m t h e m . In contrast, most existentialists tend to regard facts as less certain, less amenable to sorting and arrangi n g , more a welter of perplexing and easily distorted images.

T h e collapse of p u b l i c labels, p u b l i c ties t h a t w o u l d help the

U n d e r b o t h philosophies, m a n has the theoretical possibility of

i n d i v i d u a l define himself, leads to man's necessary reliance on

c o n t r o l l i n g the facts of experience f o r his o w n good. B u t the

himself as the o n l y means available. A l i the existentialists, f r o m

existentialist is a good deal less sure of b o t h the c o n t r o l and the

Kierkegaard o n , h o l d to the doctrine t h a t m a n must see things

good t h a n is the pragmatist. For most c o n t e m p o r a ry B r i t i s h

himself, t h a t ali genuine perceptions are subjective. C o n t e m ­

w r i t e r s , existence is also p r i o r to essence. In the w o r k of Sillitoe,

p o r a r y B r i t i s h w r i t e r s often express a similar feeling about the

A m i s , and i r i s M u r d o c h , the sensible m a n m u s t deal w i t h

s u b j e c t i v i t y of ali genuine perception by expressing, t h r o u g h

experience concretely whereas the m a n w h o fits experience i n t o

their novels, numerous different points of v i e w . i r i s M u r d o c h

an abstract essence is made ludicrous or vicious. Of these w r i t e r s ,

( w h o also has w r i t t e n a h e l p f u l and i n f o r m a t i v e c r i t i c a l book

A m i s presents perhaps the most pragmatic w o r l d . W i t h the

about Sartre)

and A n g u s W i l s o n f r e q u e n t l y express a wide

exception of the hero in That Uncertain Feeling, his heroes do

v a r i e t y o f c o n t r a d i c t o r y points o f view i n their novels. T h e

manage to w o r k their w a y , concretely and successfully, t h r o u g h

clash of points of v i e w , the i m p a c t of c o n t r a d i c t o r y definitions,

a w o r l d of fallacious essences. T h e heroes in Sillitoe, i r i s M u r ­

underlines the c o m p l e x i t y and confusion of the w o r l d the i n d i ­

doch, or A n g u s W i l s o n do n o t find the v i r t u e of simple percep­

v i d u a l faces. H e can o n l y , subjectively and i n d i v i d u a l l y , t r y t o

t i o n quite so r e w a r d i n g . T h e i r worlds are more difficult, their

I}!

İDENTİTY

AND

THE

EXISTENTIAL

facts hareler to understand and arrange. M a n , f o r these w r i t e r s ,

I D E N T I T Y

A N D

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EXISTENTIAL

233

A n g u s W i l s o n , in f o u r l o n g novels t h a t explore almost every

as f o r the existentialists, is caught between his vast possibilities

conceivable aspect of h u m a n t h o u g h t and a c t i v i t y , seems never

and his enormous l i m i t a t i o n s .

to deal c e n t r a l l y w i t h G o d or w i t h a superhuman abstraction

A l t h o u g h there are C h r i s t i a n existentialists, such as K a r i

at a l i .

Jaspers and Gabriel M a r c e l , most existentialists do n o t believe

A c c o r d i n g to Sartre, m a n is free, b o t h in spite of and because

in the existence of a supreme being (Sartre has even attempted

of the fact t h a t G o d does n o t exist, to create his o w n values.

to prove t h a t G o d cannot e x i s t ) . For most existentialists, the

M a n even has the responsibility to make sure t h a t his freedom

i n d i v i d u a l m u s t w o r k his w a y t h r o u g h his concrete experience

does n o t

because there are no i m m u t a b l e or certain standards for the

Camus, too, talks of the free m a n c o m m i t t i n g himself, despite

impinge upon

the m e a n i n g f u l

freedom

of others.

h u m a n being. A n d there are no such standards because there is

the fact t h a t the things he commits himself to never achievc the

no G o d , no realizable essence t h a t can suggest i m m u t a b l e stand­

status of absolute authorities. A n d , f o r b o t h Sartre and Camus,

ards or values. T h e same p o i n t of view is i m p l i c i t in a good deal

c o m m i t m e n t or engagement can be social and p o l i t i c a l as w e l l

o f contemporary f i c t i o n and drama. T h e w o r k o f A m i s and W a i n

as personal. C o n t e m p o r a r y B r i t i s h w r i t c r s tend to stress the

shows m a n w o r k i n g t h r o u g h himself and his society, b u t no

possibility of c o m m i t m e n t to values w i t h i n a w o r ! d whcre no

God illuminates his p a t h or stands remote to assign h i m to

absolute values exist. W r i t e r s as diverse as A n g u s W i l s o n , D o r i s

u l t i m a t e salvation or damnation. For i r i s M u r d o c h , represen-

Lessing, and John Bowen ali emphasize the personal value of

tations of various gods, various abstractions t h a t p u r p o r t to

m e a n i n g f u l c o m m i t m e n t . U n l i k e Sartre and Camus, a n u m b e r of

guide the h u m a n being, i n v a r i a b l y give irrelevant or mistaken

the B r i t i s h w r i t e r s , such as W a i n , N i g e l Dennis, and Doris

advice. As soon as any perspective begins to assume absolute

Lessing, sometimes f i n d value in the past, in some set of attitudes

attributes, Miss M u r d o c h q u i c k l y switches events to ridicule the

r u l e d o u t by change and history. T h e evocation of the past

God-figure. For most of these w r i t e r s ( w i t h the exception of

can lead to a degree of sentimentality usually absent in the best

W i l l i a m G o l d i n g , w h o uses C h r i s t i a n metaphors m e a n i n g f u l l y

o f contemporary w r i t e r s , i r i s M u r d o c h and A n g u s W i l s o n . For

and d i r e c t l y ) , G o d w o u l d seem to represent the fallacious es­

the most p a r t , however, the B r i t i s h w r i t e r , like the French w r i t e r

sence, the abstraction t h a t clouds clear and accurate perception

and theorist, tries to look at his w o r l d clearly and to demonstrate

of the facts of experience. A l a n Sillitoe is more e x p l i c i t . In The

personal and m e a n i n g f u l contemporary value w i t h i n the chaos

Writer's Dilemma, the essays first p r i n t e d i n the Times Literary

of t h a t w o r l d . T h e good w r i t e r is seldom irresponsible.

Supplement as " L i m i t s of C o n t r o l , " Sillitoe develops the theory t h a t the idea of G o d , the h u m a n persistence in adhering to an abstraction, has done enormous h a r m to society: The idea of God is man's fatal neurosis, and war, as one sort of psychoanalysis, has certainly failed to cure him of it—though the next one might not. As soon as God is disregarded, and human contest becomes one of man against nature, then the battles between men will cease, and be replaced by the simple problem of getting enough food and shelter for everybody. [Pp. 6 8 - 6 9 . ]

Responsibility does not, however, necessarily i n v o l v e defendi n g the Establishment or the r e i g n i n g society

(the confusion

between the t w o often seems to pervade the later w o r k of C. P. S n o w ) . Most existentialists, l i k e most c o n t e m p o r a ry w r i t e r s , constantly p o i n t o u t the f o l l y , the lack of honest observation, and the adherence to vast and fallacious essences t h a t permeate the r e i g n i n g society. T h e f i d e l i t y to a p r i n c i p l e in the face of concrete evidence to the c o n t r a r y is the m a r k of the fool or the vicious m a n i n the w o r k o f A m i s , A n g u s "Wilson, and Camus

234

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EXISTENTIAL

alike. Such fidelity is the i d e n t i f y i n g sign of ali w h o unquestioni n g l y accept the d o m i n a n t values of the society or the Establishm e n t . This f i d e l i t y , in its very intensity, is also the sign of pres u m p t i o n , of the f a i t h f u l assuming more knowledge, c l a r i t y , and insight than the contemporary h u m a n being has. It m a y seem, f r o m one p o i n t o f view, t h a t writers like A m i s , W a i n , John Osborne, or A r n o l d Wesker exaggerate the ridiculous or m a l icious side of such f a i t h f u l presumption, t h a t they simply vent

A N D

T H E

EXISTENTIAL

235

Sillitoe's sullen indifference to the Establishment, A m i s ' satire of presumption and g e n t i l i t y , and J o h n Osborne's f o r c e f u l present a t i o n of

the

Establishment's

lack

of

perception

stili

seem

welcome antidotes. A n d because, b o t h f o r existentialists and f o r most contemporary British w r i t e r s , value must be derived by the i n d i v i d u a l f r o m the facts of his o w n experience, the Establishment, t h a t abstraction of p u b l i c value, maintained by f a i t h , must be vulnerable to satire and c r i t i c i s m .

the

The i n t e l l i g e n t m a n , clear, honest, and perceptive, must refuse

k i n d of statement o r i g i n a t i n g f r o m w i t h i n the Establishment is

to f o l l o w the p a t t e r n of the m a j o r i t y of society. He m us t , in

sometimes almost incredible. I n the N o v e m b e r , 1 9 6 1 , issue,

Sartre's terms, react negatively to the easy f o r m u l a t i o n s and

i l l - n a t u r e d spleen against the Establishment.

But, then,

Horizon magazine published a series of photographs of c o n t e m ­

abstractions he sees around l ı i m . B u t it is a grcai de.ıl casier f o r

p o r a r y Brit is h l i f e . A l a n Pryce-Jones, the f o r m e r editör of the

the m a n of intelligcnce and sensitivity 10 know vvlıat hc ıs

by

against t h a n it is to k n o w w h a t he is for. A m i s ' l u c k y J i m ,

p o i n t i n g out t h a t they depict the w o r l d of Saturday Nigbt and

Osborne's J i m m y Porter, and W a i n ' s Joe Shaw can ali define

Sunday Morning, even t h o u g h the series included one p h o t o -

their

graph of ladies, ali dressed in w h i t e , l a w n - b o w l i n g at B r i g h t o n ,

affirmations. For t h e m , as f o r Sartre and Camus, freedom is, in

and another of t o p - h a t t e d gentlemen w a l k i n g past the T h r o c k -

a w a y , d r e a d f u l and absürd. T h e i n d i v i d u a l has the freedom to

Times

Literary

Supplement,

introduced

the

photographs

antipathies

more

clearly

than

they

can

explain

their

m o r t o n Street corner of the Stock Exchange. M r . Pryce-Jones,

act, b u t he must act in a h i g h l y complex and difficult w o r l d w i t h

after m a k i n g the p o i n t that the photographer presented a g r i m y ,

l i t t l e assurance about the value or consequence of his action.

s lum - r idde n E n g l a n d , c o n t i n u e d :

T h a t he must act when he know s so l i t t l e is d r e a d f u l ; t h a t he must act w h e n the effects of his action are so t r i v i a l , yet the

There are other Englands, however, and I should not wish ali of them to be forgotten. . . . Landscapes are small and flat, villages stili feel the double tug of the parsonage and the manor house. The country gentry are not very exciting, but they are utterly unmoved by such passing phenomena as Mr. K, the cobalt bomb, and massacres in the Congo. Here and there, at the end of avenues, stand the palaces, which lead a peculiar life of their own. Only two kinds of public gain easy access to them: blood relations of the owner, and trippers from the industrial cities with a half crown to spend. For neighbors are not encouraged, except at the annual Conservative fete in the park, at a Hunt Ball, or a comingof-age. Such palaces may be out-of-date; yet even at the royal palace of Whitehall, in the days of absolute monarchy, the public was encouraged to stare at its betters, so that there is no break with the past in a great house which prefers to welcome its visitors by the busload rather than in social couples. [P. 16.]

action itself so m e a n i n g f u l , is absürd. T h e heroism of a freely acting i n d i v i d u a l is severely l i m i t e d once the dread and the absurdity of the situation are clear. Similarly, most c o n t e m ­ porary Brit ish writers diminish the heroism of their central characters. T h o u g h heroes, in the w o r k of iris M u r d o c h , John Bowen, and A m i s , are b o t h free and responsible, they are n o t heroic in the sense of being admirable and effective leaders of society or champions of new causes. Man's situation and his problems, in addition to his o w n fallible h u m a n i t y , make heroic action u n l i k e l y . In a d d i t i o n , w h e n , as in the w o r k of A n g u s W i l s o n , heroic action is barely possible, no one else is able to recognize or acknowledge i t . The contemporary w o r l d n o t o n l y makes heroism dubious and u n l i k e l y , b u t completely fails to notice its rare emergence.

236

IDENTITY

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EXISTENTIAL

IDENTITY

A N D

T H E

EXISTENTIAL

237

T h e diminished hero, the vast and complex w o r l d , and the

other fountains and other patterns. Y e t , w i t h i n the plethora of

presence of numerous variations of abstracted f o l l y ali provide

patterns, the responsible m a n can make distinctions and choices,

material f o r unexpected and incongruous clashes. A l m o s t ali the

can prefer quasi-rational muddles to N a z i bestiality simply be-

contemporary

cause the muddles

British

writers

develop

their

themes

through

comic methods; ali sense, in one w a y or another, the ludicrous

( a n d w h a t the responsible m a n prefers is

always less clear t h a n w h a t he hates) allow f o r more free choices

position of a m a n free to act in a w o r l d in w h i c h action is diffi-

t h a n do the zealous brutalities. In a d d i t i o n , the existential at-

c u l t and insignificant. Man's position is itself comic, vulnerable,

t i t u d e , w i t h ali its qualifications and its comic incongruities,

incongruous. T h e existentialists have always viewed m a n in a

seems appropriate f o r the civilized m a n caught in a c i v i l i z a t i o n

similar w a y . Kierkegaard talked of the c o n t r a d i c t i o n i m p l i c i t in

t h a t , as he w e l l realizes, m a y n o t last very m u c h longer. H i s

man's position in the universe,

sense of h u m o r w i l l n o t entirely see h i m t h r o u g h

and

believed

t h a t o n l y the

constantly ironic i n d i v i d u a l , the m a n aware of ali sides of the

(a belief in

b o t h the imperial v i r t u e of the Brit is h lion and a bencvolent deit y

c o n t r a d i c t i o n , could deal w i t h the anomaly. Sartre's dread in

is required f o r t h a t ) , b u t the sense of i n c o n g r u i t y and absurdity

the midst of significant

also

can defend h i m , w i t h compassion or responsibility or obscrvant

acknowledge the comic ambivalence of man's position. Were

understanding, f r o m the f o l l y of l o o k i n g like the last absolutc

action

and Camus's

absurdity

m a n ever to f o r g e t the comic, ever to see his position as clear,

r a m r o d on a sinking island. It is one of the f e w choices he has

single, other t h a n incongruous, he w o u l d immediately f a i l i n t o

left.

the simple d e f i n i t i o n , the abstraction beyond ali concrete f a c t

C o n t e m p o r a r y Brit ish w r i t e r s , using a m e a n i n g f u l perspective

w h i c h w o u l d lead h i m t o p r e s u m p t i o n , f a i t h , and f o l l y . T h e

w i t h w h i c h to examine the events and attitudes of their t i m e ,

comic and unheroic hero can make choices, always qualified, b u t

have, in the past decade, created f i c t i o n and drama of energy

he has no s t i r r i n g message w i t h w h i c h to lead his people out of

and f o r c e f u l meaning. Dramatists such as John Osborne, A r n o l d

the wilderness. He has o n l y a l i m i t e d , comically qualified, c o n -

Wesker, and H a r o l d Pinter have captured contemporary attitudes

t r o l i n the m i d s t o f tsventieth-century chaos. A l i the parallels between the existentialists and contemporary

on the stage w i t h s t r i k i n g accuracy and perception; Kingsley A m i s , J o h n W a i n , K e i t h Waterhouse, D a v i d Storey, John Bowen,

Brit is h writers are n o t intended to suggest t h a t w r i t e r s such as

and others have made the novel a fresh, energetic, and responsible

A m i s and K e i t h Waterhouse have w o r k e d o u t a systematic and

statement of the 'fifties and the early 'sixties. B u t the existential

logical t h e o r y of h u m a n nature as a basis f o r their w r i t i n g s . B u t

at t it ude itself cannot rest on any such approbative generaliza-

they do, like most other writers of their age, demonstrate an ex-

tions. Considering ali the artistic facts, the existential a t t i t u d e

istential at t it ude t o w a r d experience. This at t it ude seems p a r t i c -

requires

u l a r l y relevant f o r the western European since 194$. It offers

separate and i n d i v i d u a l artists. A m o n g these w r i t e r s , A l a n Sillitoe,

separate,

evaluative,

and

subjective

choices

among

h i m the possibilities of freedom and responsible choice, possibil-

i r i s M u r d o c h , and A n g u s W i l s o n stand out. A l a n Sillitoe has

ities valuable to the m a n b o t h bored and f r i g h t e n e d by the i m -

p r o v i d e d , in r i c h and v i t a l detail, a coherent account of the

plications of M a r x i s t determinism. At the same t i m e the exis-

lower-class perspective so seldom handled w i t h such c o m p l e x i t y ,

tential at t it ude prevents m a n f r o m regarding his t r u t h s as

force, and lack of sentimentality. In a d d i t i o n , he has already

sacrosanct, his government as the f o u n t of ali wisdo m and

attempted a more abstract statement of his position, not content

v i r t u e , and his o w n nature as a p a t t e r n f o r universal e m u l a t i o n ,

to let the fascination of c o l o r f u l detail express his entire l i t e r a r y

f o r the intelligent m a n can recognize the obvious existence of

career. i r i s M u r d o c h has created a series of i n t r i c a t e and imagistic

238

IDENTITY

A N D

T H E

E X I S T E N T I A L

statements about the nature of m a n and his illusions, never repeating herself and constantly a t t e m p t i n g to shade the formless and chaotic i n t o significant f o r m . A n g u s W i l s o n , the most c o m prehensive of the three, has used a n u m b e r of entirely different devices, ali h i g h l y effective and unusual, to probe the personal, social, professional, and political nature of the contemporary h u m a n creature. A l i three are able to examine the m u l t i p l i c i t y of c u r r e n t experience and derive some o r i g i n a l , controlled, and comprehensive statement about t h a t experience. This, itself a k i n d of existential process, is the method of the artist.

Notes on the Authors

1. K I N G S L E Y AMIS

One of the most widely read of contemporary British writcrs, Kingsley Amis was born in London in 1922. Educated at St. John's College, Oxford, Amis began to write hard, precise, elever poetry. He has published four novels: Lucky Jim (1954), That Uncertain Feeling ( 955)> ^ Like it Here (1958), Take a Girl Like You (1960). Amis' best poetry has been published in A Case of Samples, and he has written a survey of contemporary science fiction called New Maps of Hell. His literary journalism is straightforward, Iucid, and highly intelligent. Until 1961, Amis lectured in English at University College, Swansea. He now lectures at Cambridge. I

2. J O H N B O W E N Born in Calcutta in 1924, John Bowen was sent to school in England and graduated from Pembroke College, Oxford. After a postgraduate year in the United States he became assistant editör on Sketch, but he soon moved into advertising. He was, until recently, the copy chief of a large London ageney, but he resigned to devote ali his time to writing. In addition to children's books and frequent critical essays, Bowen has also written four novels: The Truth Will Not Help Us (1956), After the Kain (1958), The Centre of the Green (1959), and Storyboard (1960).

240

NOTES

ON

THE

AUTHORS

3. SHELAGH DELANEY Shelagh Delaney was born in 1939 and left school at the age of sixteen. She held various jobs, including one in an engineering factory, until her first play, A Taste of Honey, was produced in 1957 by Joan Littlewood at the Theatre Workshop at Stratford in the east end of London. Miss Delaney has also written stories and another play, The Lion in Love (produced in 1960). She lives in Salford, Lancashire. 4. N I G E L DENNIS Nigel Dennis was born in 1912 in England, but grew up in Rhodesia. After receiving part of his education in Austria (his uncle was a Brit­ ish consular official there), Dennis came to the United States in 1934 and joined the staff of Time magazine. In 1949 he was transferred to Time's London office and has lived there since. He has published two novels: Boys and Girls Come Out To Play (1949) and the well-known Cards of identity (1955). The latter was dramatized for production at the Royal Court in 1956, and another play, The Making of Moo, was presented at the Royal Court in 1957. 5. L A W R E N C E D U R R E L L Lawrence Durrell was born in 1912. He went to school first in India and later at Canterbury. For many years he was connected with the British Foreign Office, serving in Athens, Cairo, Alexandria, Belgrade, and Cyprus, among other places. He had already published six novels and travel books, poetry (including a verse play and translations from Greek poetry), and a children's book before he became famous with the Alexandria Quartet. The Alexandria Quartet consists of four novels: Justine ( 1 9 J 7 ) , Balthazar (1958), Mountolive (1958), and Clea (1960). A volume of his collected poems was published in 1960. Dur­ rell now lives in France. 6. W I L L I A M G O L D İ N G Born in 1 9 u , Wılliam Golding was educated at Brasenose College, Oxford. He has written a play (Brass Butterfly, 1958) and four novels: Lord of the Flies (1954), The Inhcritors (19$$), Pincher Mar­ tin (1956), and Free Fail (1959). A schoolteacher in Wiltshire for many years, Golding has given occasional talks and broadcasts about his work. He was a visiting professor at Hollins College, Virginia, for the academic year 1961-62.

NOTES

ON

THE

AUTHORS

241

7. M A R G O T H E I N E M A N N Margot Heinemann, a young social research worker, has written books describing conditions in the mining industry. One was called Coal, another Wages. Her first novel, The Adventurers, was published in 1960. 8. T H O M A S H İ N D E Sir Thomas Chitty, who uses the pseudonym of Thomas Hinde, was born in 1926 and graduated from Winchestcr and University College, Oxford. At various times he has been a tutor, a sehoolmaster, a v/orker at the Battersea Fun Fair, an inland revenue rating assessor, and a pub­ lic relations officer for Shell Oil Company. He has written three novels: Mr. Nicholas (1952), Happy as Larry (1957), and For the Good of the Company (19 6 1 ) . 9. BİLİ. H O P K I N S Bili Hopkins, who was born in 1928, was hailed by his elose friend, Colin Wilson, as an extraordinary talent before the publication of his first novel, The Divine and the Decay, in 1957. He had met and worked with Colin Wilson in Paris some years before. Hopkins also contributed an essay, "Ways without a Precedent," to Declaration. 10. B E R N A R D KOPS Born in Stepney in 1926, Bernard Kops left school at the age of thirteen. He worked at various jobs in London, writing poems that he pub­ lished in little magazines. His first play, The Hamlet of Stepney Green, was produced at the Oxford Playhouse in 1958. The Dream of Peter Mann, his next play, was produced at the Edinburgh Festival in 1960. 11. P H I L I P L A R K İ N Philip Larkin, principally distinguished as a contemporary poet, was born in 1922 and educated at St. John's College, Oxford. He is now a librarian at the University of Hull. His best-known poetry is contained in The Less Deceived (1955). He has also written two novels: //'// (1946) and A Girl in Winter (1947). 12. DORİS LESSİNG Born in 1919, Doris Lessing spent most of her first thirty years in Southern Rhodesia. She moved to England in 1949 and published her

242

NOTES

ON

THE

AUTHORS

first novel, The Grass Is Singing, in ı ş j o . A prolific writer, she has since published three volumes of short stories, four novels, two plays, and two book-length autobiographical and sociological essays. Her bestknown novels are those in the Martha Quest series: Mart ha Quest (1952), A Proper Marriage (1954), and A Ripple from the Storm (1958). She is active in publicly supporting racial equality and the suspension of nuclear testing.

NOTES

ON

THE

AUTHORS

243

16. H A R O L D P I N T E R A young actor before he began to tvrite plays, Harold Pinter wrote his first play, The Room, in 1957, although it was not produced until 1960 at the Hampstcad Theatre Club and then at the Royal Court. The Dumb Waiter was also produced on the same program. The Caretaker, his most widely known play, was written in 1959 and produced in 1960. He has also written another play, The Birthday Party (pro­ duced in 1 9 j 8 ) , in addition to several television dramas.

13. R O G E R L O N G R I G G Roger Longrigg, educated at Bryanston and Magdalen College, Oxford, was born in 1929. He works in advertising, making television commercials. He has written four novels: A High-pitched Buzz (1956), Switchboard (1957), Wrong Number (1959), and Daughters of Mulberry (1961).

17. A L A N S I L L I T O E Alan Sillitoe was born in Nottingham in 1928. He left school at the age of fourteen to work in a bicycle factory. He later worked at a plywood mili and as a capstan lathe operatör in another factory. He began to write while in the R A F , stationed in Malaya, and he livcd six years in Majorca on his R A F pension before returning to England. He has published three novels, Saturday Night and Suııday Morning

14. İRİS M U R D O C H iris Murdoch was born in Dublin in 1919. She was educated at Somerville College, Oxford, and during the war worked at the Treasury. After the war, she worked for U N R R A in London, Belgium, and Austria. In 1948 she returned to Oxford where she is now a fellow and a tutor in philosophy at St. Anne's College. She has written a critical book on Jean Paul Sartre. Miss Murdoch is married to John Bayley, novelist, poet, and critic. She has published five novels: Under the Net (1954), The Flight from the Enchanter (1956), The Sandcastle (1957), The Bell (1958), and A Severed Head (1961). A sixth novel, An Unofficial Rose, was published in the spring of 1962.

(1958) , The General (1960), and Key to the Door (1962), as wcll as a volume of short stories, The Loneliness of the Long-Dis/ance Runner (1959) . He has also written poetry and a number of essays.

15. J O H N O S B O R N E John Osborne was born in Fulham, London, in 1930, and was expelled from school at the age of sixteen. He spent about eight years as an actor in provincial repertory. When his first produced play, Look Back in Anger, appeared at the Royal Court Theatre in Sloane Square, in May, 19 5 6, Osborne immediately became noteworthy as the representative of a new generation of dramatists. The Entertainer was pro­ duced, also at the Royal Court, in 1957 and Epitaph for George Dillon in 1958. Since that time Osborne has written two additional plays, The World of Paul Slickey and Luther, as well as numerous articles and autobiographical essays.

18. A N D R E W S I N C L A I R Younger than any of the other writers represented, Andrew Sinclair received his degree from Cambridge only three or four years ago. His first novel, The Breaking of Bumbo (1959), was widely praised, and Sinclair soon followcd with another novel, My Friend Judas (19Ç9). He has written another novel, The Project, and a history of prohibition in America. 19. C. P. SNOW Sir Charles Snow was born in 1905 in Leicester. As a young scientist, he won a seholarship to Cambridge and became a fellow of his col­ lege in 1930. At the beginning of the war he left Cambridge to work administering scientific programs and personnel for the government. He was knighted in 1957 for his government work. He published his first novel, The Search, in 1934. Since 1940 he has published eight novels in sequence, known by the title of the first novel Strangers and Brothers, narrated by the character, Lewis Eliot. Sir Charles has also written numerous essays, the most famous of which is called "The Two Cultures." He is married to the novelist, Pamela Hansford Johnson.

244

NOTES

ON

THE

AUTHORS

20. D A V I D S T O R E Y David Storey, the son of a miner, was born in Yorkshire in 1933. He earned his studies in art at the Slade School, University College, London, by playing Rugby for Leeds for four seasons. His painting has won several prizes and been represented at group exhibitions. He has written two novels: This Sporting Life (1960) and Flight into Cani­ den (1960). 21. H U G H T H O M A S Born in 193 I, Hugh Thomas was educated at Sherborne and at Cambridge. He went directly into the Foreign Office and spent two years as a secretary to the British delegation at a United Nations disarmament conference. He resigned from the Foreign Office in 1956 and has since been a Labour candidate for Parliament. He published one novel, The ~World's Game, in 19J7, and has since written another novel, a history of the Spanish Civil War, and a history of Sandhurst. 22. H O N O R T R A C Y Honor Tracy, a resident of Dublin, has traveled över Europe and the Far East as a newspaper correspondent. She began publishing books in 1950 with a travel book on Japan, and she has also written on her travels in Ireland and in Spain. In more recent years she has written five novels, ali of them satirical, the best known of which is The Straight and Narroıv Path (1956). 23. J O H N W A I N John Wain was born in Stoke-on-Trent, Staffordshire, in 1925 and was educated at St. John's College, Oxford. Until 1955 he was a lecturer in English at the University of Reading. He then left the university to devote ali his time to writing. An extremely aetive man, Wain writes reviews and criticism regularly for the Ohserver and broadcasts frequently. In addition to this, he has edited critical anthologies, pub­ lished poetry, vritten a highly perceptive colleetion of critical essays, and brought out five novels: Hurry On Doıvn (1953)' Living in the Present (19 5 5), The Contenders (19 5 8), A Travclling Woman (1959), and Strike the Father Dead (1962). He has also published a volume of short stories, Nuncle (1960).

NOTES

ON

T H E AUTHORS

24 J

24. K E I T H W A T E R H O U S E Keith Waterhouse was born in 1929 and went to local schools in Leeds. He worked as an undertaker's assistant and a rent colleetor, then, after military service, as a reporter on a local paper. He wrote his first novel, There Was a Happy Land, during a netvspaper strike late in 1956. His second novel, Bılly Liar, was published in 1959 and later made into a play. In addition, Waterhouse has written film, radio, and television seripts. He has reviewed fiction and art for the New Statesman.

25. A R N O L D W E S K E R Born in 1932 in the east end of London, Arnold Wesker worked as a plumber's mate and a pastry cook (the latter in Paris, London, and Norwich) before he entered the London School of Film Technique. He then svrote Chicken Soup with Barley, presented at Coventry and then at the Royal Court in 1958. This play is the first part of a trilogy, also ineluding Roots (1959) and l'm Talking about Jerusalem (1960). In addition, Wesker has written another play called The Kitchen.

26. A N G U S W I L S O N Born in 1913, Angus Wilson spent most of his childhood in South Africa. He was educated at Westminster and Oxford, and then, in 1937, became a librarian at the British Museum. Returning to the British Museum, after spending the war with the Foreign Office, Wilson was given the job of replacing ali the books that had been destroyed during the war. In 1955 he left the museum and has since been a fulltime writer. He has published three volumes of short stories, a play, a sketchbook of reminiscences of the 1920's, and four novels: Hemlock and After (1952), Anglo-Saxon Attitudes (1956), The Middle Age of Mrs. Eliot (1958), and The Old Men at the Zoo (1961). He also contributes frequent reviews and critical articles to periodicals.

27. C O L I N W I L S O N Colin Wilson was born in Leicester in 193 1. After leaving school at the age of sixteen and the R A F after six months, Wilson held a succession of factory, office, hospital, and dishwashing jobs in both London and Paris. His first book, The Outsider (1956), was hailed as a brilliant

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essay representative of the new generation, but, with the publication of his second public confession, Religion and the Rebel (1957), Wilson's reputation subsided. He has, more recently, published two novels: Ritnal in the Dark (1960), and Adrift in Soho (1961).

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