The story is set during the Hundred Years War. The White Company was a band of English mercenaries who fought in France, Spain and Italy. Conan Doyle The story is set during the Hundred Years War. The White Company was a band of English mercenaries who fought in France, Spain and Italy. Conan Doyle was a great storyteller in the traditional sense, and he did a good deal of research for his historical novels. Plenty of detail on the ways of life of the various classes in late 14th century Europe, with an emphasis upon the lives of the knights, squires and men-at-arms. Heroes, jousts, medieval warfare, derring-do, cliff-hangers and courtly love. All things considered, an enjoyable read....more
The meaning of card, as used in the title, is a clever fellow, a somewhat odd, amusing, unpredictable and often audacious person. Denry (Edward Henry)The meaning of card, as used in the title, is a clever fellow, a somewhat odd, amusing, unpredictable and often audacious person. Denry (Edward Henry) Machin is The Card. The time is late Victorian to early Edwardian; the place is the fictional Five Towns in England, based on Bennett’s native Stoke-on-Trent, which at the turn of the century was known as The Six Towns.
Denry begins his career with a deception, a bit of self-help affirmative action. The son of a poor, widowed washerwoman, he cheats on an exam and receives a scholarship to a first-rate grammar school. The education provides a launching pad for his brilliant career.
“Every life is a series of coincidences. Nothing happens that is not rooted in coincidence. All great changes find their cause in coincidence. Therefore, I shall not mince the fact that the next change in Denry's career was due to an enormous and complicated coincidence.”
Denry makes the best of several coincidences; he is adept at turning lemons into lemonade. He is creative, a natural promoter and entrepreneur who climbs the ladder of business and political success by following a great principle of free markets and democracy: Give the people what they want. He also has the knack of charming the ladies. Moreover, Denry has clever ways of getting even with his rivals and adversaries by means of pranks and ridicule.
I enjoyed Bennett’s prose style, his straightforward narrative, his folksy humor, believable characters, and dialogue. Most of all, I developed a fondness for his protagonist. Machin’s formula for success is summed up as follow:
“A little group of councillors were discussing Denry. ‘What a card!’ said one, laughing joyously. ‘He's a rare 'un, no mistake.’ ‘Of course, this'll make him more popular than ever,’ said another. ‘We've never had a man to touch him for that.’ ‘And yet,’ demanded Councillor Barlow, ‘what's he done? Has he ever done a day's work in his life? What great cause is he identified with?’ ‘He's identified,’ said the speaker, ‘with the great cause of cheering us all up.
A “ripping yarn” of high jinks among a small band of British “bad boys” in a late Victorian boarding school, based upon the military preparatory schooA “ripping yarn” of high jinks among a small band of British “bad boys” in a late Victorian boarding school, based upon the military preparatory school Kipling attended. Stalky and Co.’s trespasses include smoking out of bounds; taking pot shots at small animals; pranking the hated house masters; mocking the authority of sixth form prefects; sabotaging exams. Their one "good deed", prompted by the chaplain, consists of stopping a couple of full-grown bullies from tormenting a new boy. However, their chosen method, giving the bullies a taste of their own medicine, is brutal in the extreme.
Stalky and his pals work stealthily, taking full advantage of their enemy’s weaknesses. They play by their own rules; they hate cricket, but they “play up. And play the game!” in football when the college honor is on the line. Their pranks display a talent for psychological operations. They “metagrobolize” their adversaries. Moreover, the headmaster recognizes their peculiar qualities, even when administering the occasional caning, which of course they take like men.
The young gentlemen of Stalky & Co. exhibit qualities that will serve them well in Her Majesty’s service, and this is borne out in the final old boy’s reunion chapter.
Caveat: The novel is loaded with Victorian slang, especially of the public-school and military variety, and a few jokes in college Latin. There are also several references to the culture and politics of the time ca. 1880-1895. An edition with footnotes and a glossary would be helpful. ...more
Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife, Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray; Along the cool sequester'd vale of life They kept the noiselessFar from the madding crowd's ignoble strife, Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray; Along the cool sequester'd vale of life They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.
Yet ev'n these bones from insult to protect, Some frail memorial still erected nigh, With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd, Implores the passing tribute of a sigh. Thomas Grey, Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard
To paraphrase Grey, Hardy's “Far From the Madding Crowd” is a memorial to a bygone era, but unlike the old country gravestones it is neither frail, nor shapeless and uncouth. Hardy’s novel is powerful, well-crafted, and poetic. FFMC is character-driven, the story arising from the contrasting personalities and conflict among Bathsheba Everdene and her three suitors, Gabriel Oak, Mr. Boldwood, and Sergeant Troy. Much of the novel is prose poetry filled with extended dramatic metaphors of natural forces that drive the characters' actions. Hardy’s novels tend to end tragically; this one is bittersweet. ...more
The myth proposed in Plato's Republic 414–15 that men are born of the earth, and that into each soul is mixed either some gold, appropriate for guardiThe myth proposed in Plato's Republic 414–15 that men are born of the earth, and that into each soul is mixed either some gold, appropriate for guardians, silver appropriate for forces of law and order or people to act as auxiliaries to the guardians, or iron for craftsmen and labourers. If we can get people to believe this, they will more happily play their roles in a well-ordered and stable city. The Oxford Dictionary of Philosophy
Two things only the people anxiously desire—bread and circuses. Juvenal
“People still went on talking about truth and beauty as though they were the sovereign goods. Right up to the time of the Nine Years' War. That made them change their tune all right. What's the point of truth or beauty or knowledge when the anthrax bombs are popping all around you? That was when science first began to be controlled-after the Nine Years' War. People were ready to have even their appetites controlled then. Anything for a quiet life. We've gone on controlling ever since. It hasn't been very good for truth, of course. But it's been very good for happiness. One can't have something for nothing. Happiness has got to be paid for.” Aldous Huxley. Brave New World . Kindle Edition.
The totalitarian government in Huxley’s novel guarantees peace, stability, and “happiness” in exchange for total control of everyday life, literally from cradle to grave. Our Lord has been replaced by Our Ford (Henry); natural reproduction is forbidden; families no longer exist; sex among humans is for pleasure only. Babies are grown in hatcheries; instead of being born, genetically manipulated fetuses are decanted from bottles. Social class, from top to bottom—Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta, and Epsilon—is chemically engineered. A combination of chemical engineering and psychological indoctrination, ensures that each member of each class is "happy” in his or her allotted place in life. The "happy” people of all classes must not be troubled by anything old or not approved by their controllers. History has been re-written or erased; High Art has been expunged; science limited to serving the state’s interests. All classes having been conditioned to believe the “Noble Lies” their controllers tell them, there is almost no chance of civil unrest, protest, strikes or revolutions. And if any misfit does happen to go rogue, the state has the ways and means to deal with him or her, e.g., banishment to an island, or the lethal chamber.
“Bread and Circuses” needs are fulfilled by short work hours, agreeable work assignments suitable to one’s abilities and station in life, “feelies” (sense enhanced movies with plenty of sex and thrills), television, inane games, group sing-alongs, orgies, a typical kitsch popular culture. In addition, science provides “Soma,” the ideal happy pill that transports the user to a safe space far from the slightest unpleasantness. The result is an existence without love, sorrow, intellectual curiosity, nobility or honor.
“Oh, wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, that has such people in 't!” The famous quote from Shakespeare’s “The Tempest” is ironic in the original, and doubly ironic in Huxley’s novel. Shakespeare enters the novel by way of a pivotal character, John the Savage. His appearance on the scene leads to a culture clash and a predictably tragic denouement and ending. First published in 1931, “Brave New World” has inspired numerous dystopian novels and films, especially “Demolition Man,” which turned the tragedy of Huxley’s novel into dark comedy. ...more
What is Crome Yellow? A. The title of a novel by Aldous Huxley. B.Chrome (with an “h”) Yellow is a pigment developed in the 19th century. Chrome Yellow What is Crome Yellow? A. The title of a novel by Aldous Huxley. B.Chrome (with an “h”) Yellow is a pigment developed in the 19th century. Chrome Yellow was favored by Van Gogh and most famously used in his sunflower paintings, which are now fading and turning a shade of brown. C. John Crome (without the “h”) is the name of late 18th and early 19th century father and son English landscape artists. The Cromes worked prior to the chemically produced chrome yellow. They used natural ochre in their paintings. D. Crome Yellow, in Huxley’s novel, is a Tudor country manor house built by the Lapith family. The Lapith is an allusion to Greek mythology, literature, and artwork, most particularly artwork depicting a legendary battle between the Lapiths and the Centaurs.
Huxley’s descriptions of Crome Yellow and its surroundings is painterly, much like his younger contemporary, Evelyn Waugh’s descriptions of Brideshead. As in Waugh’s novel, Huxley’s characters fit into the picture like figures in a traditional landscape that tells a story. A superficial reading, like a superficial glance at a picture on exhibition, might lead a reader to categorize this novel as a light social satire about the post-WWI chattering classes playing their little games with one another in the pleasant atmosphere of an English country estate. A deeper dive into the text reveals many of the themes in Huxley’s "Brave New World" (1931) including test tube births, the end of families, religion, personal relationships; a totalitarian society, with a rigid class system of individuals who have from birth been categorized, collectivized, dehumanized, mechanized, drugged, and psychologically indoctrinated. The sinister Mr. Scogan’s vision of utopia seems a modern version of Plato’s Republic. The following excerpt is prophetic.
"The three main species," Mr. Scogan went on, "will be these: the Directing Intelligences, the Men of Faith, and the Herd. Among the Intelligences will be found all those capable of thought, those who know how to attain a certain degree of freedom…from the mental bondage of their time. A select body of Intelligences, drawn from among those who have turned their attention to the problems of practical life, will be the governors of the Rational State. They will employ as their instruments of power the second great species of humanity—the men of Faith, the Madmen, as I have been calling them, who believe in things unreasonably, with passion, and are ready to die for their beliefs and their desires. These wild men, with their fearful potentialities for good or for mischief, will no longer be allowed to react casually to a casual environment…."From their earliest years, as soon, that is, as the examining psychologists have assigned them their place in the classified scheme, the Men of Faith will have had their special education under the eye of the Intelligences. Moulded by a long process of suggestion, they will go out into the world, preaching and practising with a generous mania the coldly reasonable projects of the Directors from above…The principal function of the Men of Faith will be to move and direct the Multitude, that third great species consisting of those countless millions who lack intelligence and are without valuable enthusiasm….
"And what will be my place in the Rational State?" Denis drowsily inquired from under his shading hand. Mr. Scogan looked at him for a moment in silence. "It's difficult to see where you would fit in," he said at last…."No, I can see no place for you; only the lethal chamber."...more
Harry Feversham, a young British officer descended from a long line of soldiers, resigns his commission on the eve of his regiment going off to war inHarry Feversham, a young British officer descended from a long line of soldiers, resigns his commission on the eve of his regiment going off to war in Egypt. Three fellow-officers send Feversham white feathers, a symbol of cowardice; his fiancé breaks off their engagement and hands him a fourth feather. Feversham, shamed and depressed almost to the point of suicide, travels incognito to Egypt and the enemy-occupied Sudan to redeem his honor by the performance of brave deeds.
There’s a theme to this story that was derived from Shakespeare’s Hamlet: “…conscience doth make cowards of us all.” Conscience, in the context of the famous quote, means thinking, or more specifically overthinking a difficult problem. Overthinking can delay action with predictably bad results. For an officer, being paralyzed in combat with what the British soldiers of that day called “funk" is the worst thing imaginable. Harry Fevershem is, Hamlet-like, far more imaginative than his stolid retired general father and his “stiff upper-lip” peers. Fevershem’s dilemma is not that he’s a coward; in fact, he’s very brave. His misfortune is that a vivid imagination has led Harry to fear that he’s a coward who will fail the test when the time comes.
The Hamlet reference comes up in a conversation between Harry and Lieutenant Sutch, an old retired naval officer and friend of Harry’s father. Sutch takes a fatherly interest in Harry, and it’s implied throughout the novel that the lieutenant was at one time in love with Harry’s long deceased mother. "Did you ever read 'Hamlet'?" he asked. "Of course," said Harry, in reply. "Ah, but did you consider it? The same disability is clear in that character. The thing which he foresaw, which he thought over, which he imagined in the act and in the consequence—that he shrank from, upbraiding himself even as you have done. Yet when the moment of action comes, sharp and immediate, does he fail? No, he excels, and just by reason of that foresight.”
My brief synopsis should be familiar to anyone who has seen a film version—there are several—of Mason’s novel. While the synopsized plot is essentially the same, the screenplays differ, to a greater or lesser extent, from each other and the novel. Many novels are difficult, and in some cases almost impossible, to faithfully adapt for the screen; “The Four Feathers” is difficult at best.
“The Four Feathers” is more early Edwardian literary fiction than Kiplingesque adventure. A strictly faithful screen adaptation would probably have bored audiences. My favorite version, the 1939 Technicolor epic, took liberties with the characters and their relationships as well as the historical setting while adding plenty of action; these changes contributed to making the film a perennial classic and a box-office hit.
The screenwriters simplified and stream-lined the story, changing, combining or eliminating key characters. They also transferred the historical timeline to place the action in the 1890s, culminating in the Battle of Omdurman, a great British victory, rather than the less inspiring 1880s. This isn’t surprising. The film was released in the UK in April of 1939 when Europe was on the brink of war.
One of the most striking changes, and there are indeed several, from novel to screen, is the relationship among Harry Fevershem, Jack Durrance and Ethne Eustace (Ethne Burroughs, In the film) and Mrs. Adair, a character who was trimmed from the screenplay. Most interesting to me was the change in Jack Durrance. While he was portrayed sympathetically in the film, a great performance by Sir Ralph Richardson, Durrance is more prominent in the novel, arguably a co-hero to Harry Feversham, and a tragic one at that.
Mason’s literary style was pre-cinematic and will be familiar to readers of Victorian and Edwardian literature. He used poetic descriptions of the Irish countryside and the Sudanese desert to set a mood that reflected his character’s thoughts and emotions; films accomplish that visually, without the need for words. Mason also spent a great deal of time on both physical and psychological descriptions of his characters, exploring their motives, contradictions and misunderstandings at great length. A film must rely primarily on showing as opposed to telling and the emphasis on showing rather than telling had a significant impact on the development of 20th century fiction. In addition, the film used action and fast pacing throughout, building up to a rousing climax; in the novel, the pace and the action pick up, but only in the climactic scenes near the novel’s end.
A brief word about Ethne’s violin playing. Thankfully, it was left out of the film. Mason used it as Ethne’s means of non-verbal “spiritual” communication to both Feversham and Durrance. Other reviewers have commented on it and her favorite piece, the so-called “Musiline Overture”. This obscure, or more likely non-existent piece plays an important role in the narrative. Don’t waste time trying to look it up. Mason might have been referring to a violin arrangement of Mendelsohn’s “Fair Melusine Overture,” but that’s just a guess. At any rate, it’s a vestige of Victorian sentimentality and melodrama that was already going out of fashion when the novel was published in 1902.
I wouldn’t judge the film by the novel or the novel by the film; they are products of different media made for different times. While the novel lacks much of the action and adventure of the film, it still held my interest and kept me engaged throughout. Mason’s “word painting” descriptions are excellent, his characters psychologically complex; all things considered, it’s a good read.
“Freedom is the freedom to say that two plus two make four. If that is granted, all else follows.” George Orwell, 1984 (1949)
“1984” was published in“Freedom is the freedom to say that two plus two make four. If that is granted, all else follows.” George Orwell, 1984 (1949)
“1984” was published in 1949; I first read it in 1969. “1984” is a vision of a dystopian future largely based upon Stalin’s Soviet Union. But it’s not just an “It can happen here” warning. “1984” has already happened, is happening, will happen in all societies where the marketplace of ideas is not free.
Compelling individuals to reject reality is the essence of authoritarianism. To achieve this end, the authoritarian regime uses certain means such as propaganda, indoctrination and coercion to transform reality in the popular imagination. The authoritarian deconstructs the “old” common sense and scientific reality, for example biology, mathematics and physics, and replaces it with a mental construct. Two plus two equals five; things fall up; black is white and so forth.
“Reality exists in the human mind, and nowhere else. Not in the individual mind, which can make mistakes, and in any case soon perishes: only in the mind of the Party, which is collective and immortal. Whatever the Party holds to be the truth, is truth. It is impossible to see reality except by looking through the eyes of the Party.
Language is revised into “Newspeak.”
“The word FREE still existed in Newspeak, but it could only be used in such statements as ‘This dog is free from lice’ or ‘This field is free from weeds’. It could not be used in its old sense of ‘politically free’ or ‘intellectually free’ since political and intellectual freedom no longer existed even as concepts, and were therefore of necessity nameless.”
Who are the reality altering authoritarians?
“The new aristocracy was made up for the most part of bureaucrats, scientists, technicians, trade-union organizers, publicity experts, sociologists, teachers, journalists, and professional politicians.”
Altered reality forever wars provided an economic and political raison d’etre for the authoritarian elite.
“The war, therefore, if we judge it by the standards of previous wars, is merely an imposture...But though it is unreal it is not meaningless. It eats up the surplus of consumable goods, and it helps to preserve the special mental atmosphere that a hierarchical society needs.”
“It is in the ranks of the Party, and above all of the Inner Party, that the true war enthusiasm is found. World-conquest is believed in most firmly by those who know it to be impossible. This peculiar linking-together of opposites—knowledge with ignorance, cynicism with fanaticism—is one of the chief distinguishing marks of Oceanic society."
The empirical scientific method allows free and open debate. Evidence is examined; hypotheses are tested, proven or falsified. Therefore, it’s use must be strictly limited.
“In Oceania at the present day, Science, in the old sense, has almost ceased to exist. In Newspeak there is no word for ‘Science’.”
“The scientist of today is either a mixture of psychologist and inquisitor, studying with real ordinary minuteness the meaning of facial expressions, gestures, and tones of voice, and testing the truth-producing effects of drugs, shock therapy, hypnosis, and physical torture; or he is chemist, physicist, or biologist concerned only with such branches of his special subject as are relevant to the taking of life.”
Facts, ideas, evidence and opinions that run contrary to that which is newly authorized are expunged. Debate is shouted down. Dissenters are vaporized, cancelled, erased. Dogma must not be questioned. To build a new world all vestiges of the past must be destroyed. History is re-written or obliterated. People don’t just die; they’re disappeared, erased. Memory is forbidden.
“One could not learn history from architecture any more than one could learn it from books. Statues, inscriptions, memorial stones, the names of streets—anything that might throw light upon the past had been systematically altered.”
Education becomes indoctrination; children are trained to spy on parents, neighbors and friends.
“The children…were systematically turned against their parents and taught to spy on them and report their deviations. The family had become in effect an extension of the Thought Police. It was a device by means of which everyone could be surrounded night and day by informers who knew him intimately.”
People live in constant fear of denunciation for thought crimes expressed in a word, a gesture, a look. But even in a world built on lies, objective reality persists. Nevertheless, authoritarians relying upon our instinctual fear of punishment, cancellation or ostracism coerce people into a denial of reality. Under constant pressure, many of us reject truth, or at least remain silently submissive to pernicious lies. Such pressure is the means of “thought control”; it’s a tool used by idealogues to manipulate people, acquiring power for themselves while maintaining that the power-grab is for the common good.
“Doublethink” is an essential tool of thought control; it is a sign of the times. Doublethink is the enemy of both common sense and empirical science: Believe us. Believe our experts. Don’t believe your lying eyes.
“The Party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command.”
Doublethink slogans are endlessly repeated: “War is peace. Freedom is slavery. Ignorance is strength.”
“To know and not to know, to be conscious of complete truthfulness while telling carefully constructed lies, to hold simultaneously two opinions which cancelled out, knowing them to be contradictory and believing in both of them, to use logic against logic, to repudiate morality while laying claim to it, to believe that democracy was impossible and that the Party was the guardian of democracy, to forget whatever it was necessary to forget, then to draw it back into memory again at the moment when it was needed, and then promptly to forget it again: and above all, to apply the same process to the process itself. That was the ultimate subtlety: consciously to induce unconsciousness, and then, once again, to become unconscious of the act of hypnosis you had just performed. Even to understand the word ‘doublethink’ involved the use of doublethink.”
“In the end the Party would announce that two and two made five, and you would have to believe it. It was inevitable that they should make that claim sooner or later: the logic of their position demanded it. Not merely the validity of experience, but the very existence of external reality, was tacitly denied by their philosophy. The heresy of heresies was common sense. And what was terrifying was not that they would kill you for thinking otherwise, but that they might be right. For, after all, how do we know that two and two make four? Or that the force of gravity works? Or that the past is unchangeable? If both the past and the external world exist only in the mind, and if the mind itself is controllable what then?”
The story is narrated by Bedford, an impecunious entrepreneur and would-be playwright; the narrative begins in a light and somewhat humorous vein. BedThe story is narrated by Bedford, an impecunious entrepreneur and would-be playwright; the narrative begins in a light and somewhat humorous vein. Bedford has sought refuge in the country to escape his London creditors while writing a play that he hopes will solve his financial woes. He encounters his neighbor Cavor, an eccentric genius with little common sense and a tenuous grip on reality. Cavor is involved in an experiment that, if successful, would produce a gravity-defying substance. The inventor reveals his secret to his new friend; the entrepreneur ponders the commercial possibilities. Thinking Cavor’s experiment might pan out better than a play, Bedford enters into a partnership with the inventor. Discovery of the substance is precipitated by an accident; Cavor’s bumbling assistants fail to tend a furnace with explosive results. Cavorite enters the world with a big bang followed by a cyclone. Realizing his experiment might have blown a hole in earth’s atmosphere, sucked out all the oxygen and left behind a dead planet, Cavor, the single-minded scientist declares:
"If we can possibly avoid wrecking this little planet of ours, we will. But—there must be risks! There must be. In experimental work there always are.”
Now that the partners have Cavorite, they start thinking about its practical applications. Cavor comes up with the idea of space exploration. After some soul-searching Bedford reluctantly agrees to join Cavor for a journey to the moon. The hesitant Bedford soon warms to the adventure and the wonders of outer space.
"Those who have only seen the starry sky from the earth cannot imagine its appearance when the vague, half luminous veil of our air has been withdrawn. The stars we see on earth are the mere scattered survivors that penetrate our misty atmosphere. But now at last I could realise the meaning of the hosts of heaven!”
After landing safely on the moon, they discover strange life forms and a breathable atmosphere. But things soon go awry. While practicing their leaps and bounds in a weightless atmosphere, they lose track of the sphere. They also discover that they aren’t alone; the moon is inhabited by intelligent, insect-like beings: the Selenites. Worse yet, while trying to satisfy their growing hunger, Bedford and Cavor eat moon mushrooms, with psychedelic results. What ensues might be described as a cross between Hieronymus Bosch and Gustave Doré’s visualizations of hell and Ren and Stimpy’s “Space Madness”.
The hapless astronauts are captured by the Selenites and subsequently escape. During the following struggles, the more aggressive Bedford discovers his human advantage over the physically weak Selenites:
"My...hand seemed to go clean through him. He smashed.. like some softish.. sweet with liquid in it!.... He squelched and splashed. It was like hitting a damp toadstool. The flimsy body went spinning a dozen yards, and fell with a flabby impact. I was astonished. I was incredulous that any living thing could be so flimsy.”
"....we had met with things like mad mockeries of men...and had walked in fear before them... And behold, they had smashed like wax and scattered like chaff, and fled and vanished like the creatures of a dream! I rubbed my eyes, doubting whether we had not slept and dreamt these things by reason of the fungus we had eaten.”
Having, escaped their captors, the pair sets a marker and splits up to search for the sphere. The first to find the sphere will signal to the other. Now completely alone in a hostile alien world, Bedford’s narrative turns reflective:
"What good would the moon be to men? Even of their own planet what have they made but a battle-ground and theatre of infinite folly? Small as his world is, and short as his time, he has still in his little life down there far more than he can do.”
"Assuming I was to die a castaway upon the moon, I failed..to see what purpose I had served. I got no light on that point, but..it was clearer to me than it had ever been...that I was not serving my own purpose, that all my life I had...never served the purposes of my private life. Whose purposes, what purposes, was I serving?”
On the brink of despair, Bedford locates the sphere. But he must find Cavor, and Cavor is not to be found. Bedford discovers a bloody note. Cavor has been injured, and taken captive by the Selenites. Giving his companion up for dead, Bedford returns to the sphere and pilots it back to earth, where he fortuitously lands in the sea near the English coastline. And he doesn’t return empty-handed. Some heavy Selenite tools he used as weapons are made of pure gold.
While Bedford recovers at a seaside hotel, the sphere, which was temporarily left on the beach, is activated by a curious boy. The sphere, with the unfortunate boy inside, takes off for outer space, never to return. Along with the sphere and the boy, the secret of Cavorite and the means of returning to the moon are lost.
The scene shifts to Amalfi where Bedford, living off his moon gold, has resumed work on his play. While there, he learns of mysterious radio signals coming from the moon.
"...a Dutch electrician, who has been experimenting with certain apparatus akin to the apparatus used by Mr. Tesla in America, in the hope of discovering some method of communication with Mars, was receiving day by day a curiously fragmentary message in English, which was indisputably emanating from Mr. Cavor in the moon.”
The remainder of the novel focuses on Cavor’s radio transmissions documenting his life among the Selenites. At this point, Wells turns to incisive political satire.
Cavor’s narrative of Selenite society may be read as a parody of Plato’s Republic and other Utopian fantasies. The Selenites are separated by their natural tendencies, abilities and talents and then educated and trained along those lines. Moreover, they are physically, chemically and psychologically altered to form a perfect fit into their ant-like “World-Machine.”
“In the moon," says Cavor, "every citizen knows his place. He is born to that place, and the elaborate discipline of training and education and surgery he undergoes fits him at last so completely to it that he has neither ideas nor organs for any purpose beyond it.”
"And to rule over these things and order any erring tendency there might be in some aberrant natures are the most muscular beings I have seen in the moon, a sort of lunar police, who must have been trained from their earliest years to give a perfect respect and obedience to the swollen heads.”
“These beings with big heads, on whom the intellectual labours fall, form a sort of aristocracy in this strange society, and at the head of them, quintessential of the moon, is that marvellous gigantic ganglion the Grand Lunar, into whose presence I am finally to come.”
The Selenites treat Cavor like an honored guest. He is assigned two specialists who communicate with him in English, and he’s provided with materials to construct the wireless telegraph that he uses to communicate with earth. All goes well until Cavor is brought before the Grand Lunar, the master of the moon, a huge brain with a vestigial insect-like body. The Grand Lunar questions Cavor about earth, and Cavor answers ingenuously.
"His disastrous want of vulgar common sense had utterly betrayed him. He had talked of war, he had talked of all the strength and irrational violence of men, of their insatiable aggressions, their tireless futility of conflict. He had filled the whole moon world with this impression of our race...”
The novel was originally serialized in The Strand Magazine from December 1900 to August 1901 and published in hardcover in 1901. At the time, the British Empire was at its zenith, and was engaged in the Second Boer War. Cavor mentions a battle of that war in response to the Grand Lunar’s questions. The Victorian era ended with the Queen’s death in January, 1901.
THE TIME MACHINE My first contact with this story was by way of Classics Illustrated Comics and the 1960 George Pal film version that I viewed, on firsTHE TIME MACHINE My first contact with this story was by way of Classics Illustrated Comics and the 1960 George Pal film version that I viewed, on first release, at a local theater. The idea of time travel fascinated me, and I imagined building my own time machine in which I would seek adventure in the past and future.
Time travel was a popular subject for TV in the fifties and sixties, especially, as I recall, on Twilight Zone. Stories often dealt with a familiar paradox; you can’t alter history. However, the theme of Wells’s novella is not about changing the past or future; rather, it concerns the decline and fall of civilization and the ultimate extinction of the human race. As much as I enjoyed, and still enjoy, the adventure and special effects of the 1960 film, the screen adaptation bowdlerized Wells’s dark theme, providing a more hopeful ending for audiences. The following passages from the novella delineate the Time Machine’s theme:
"....the truth dawned on me: that Man had not remained one species, but had differentiated into two distinct animals: that my graceful children of the Upper-world were not the sole descendants of our generation, but that this bleached, obscene, nocturnal Thing, which had flashed before me, was also heir to all the ages.
"'I grieved to think how brief the dream of the human intellect had been. It had committed suicide. It had set itself steadfastly towards comfort and ease, a balanced society with security and permanency as its watchword, it had attained its hopes—to come to this at last.”
"This has ever been the fate of energy in security; it takes to art and to eroticism, and then come languor and decay. 'Even this artistic impetus would...die away—had almost died in the Time I saw. To adorn themselves with flowers, to dance, to sing in the sunlight: so much was left of the artistic spirit, and no more.” "Ages ago, thousands of generations ago, man had thrust his brother man out of the ease and the sunshine. And now that brother was coming back changed! Already the Eloi had begun to learn one old lesson anew. They were becoming reacquainted with Fear.”
History tends to run its course in cycles of rise, decline and fall followed by a revival or renaissance. Wells foresees a distant time where all humankind’s goals are achieved, but this culminating triumph of civilization is followed by a steep decline from which there is no recovery. This is the dismal End of History that the makers of one of my favorite childhood films prudently avoided.
THE INVISIBLE MAN I haven’t researched the subject to any great extent, but I’m guessing the Ring of Gyges myth was the inspiration for Wells’s story. In brief, the legendary Gyges was a shepherd in the service of the king of Lydia. By chance, he discovered a golden ring that rendered him invisible and, by a twist of the ring, returned himself to visibility. He used the magic ring to enter the palace, seduced the queen, conspired with her to murder the king and usurped the throne.
The myth was discussed under the topic “Adeimantus and Glaucon Restate the Case for Injustice” in Plato’s The Republic as follows:
“Suppose now that there were two such magic rings, and the just put on one of them and the unjust the other; no man can be imagined to be of such an iron nature that he would stand fast in justice. No man would keep his hands off what was not his own when he could safely take what he liked out of the market, or go into houses and lie with any one at his pleasure, or kill or release from prison whom he would, and in all respects be like a god among men. Then the actions of the just would be as the actions of the unjust; they would both come at last to the same point. And this we may truly affirm to be a great proof that a man is just, not willingly or because he thinks that justice is any good to him individually, but of necessity, for wherever any one thinks that he can safely be unjust, there he is unjust. For all men believe in their hearts that injustice is far more profitable to the individual than justice, and he who argues as I have been supposing, will say that they are right. If you could imagine any one obtaining this power of becoming invisible, and never doing any wrong or touching what was another's, he would be thought by the lookers-on to be a most wretched idiot, although they would praise him to one another's faces, and keep up appearances with one another from a fear that they too might suffer injustice. — Plato, Republic, 360b–d (Jowett trans.)
Adeimantus and Glaucon, contrary to Socrates, argue that we are self-serving creatures and, given the opportunity, most will act to their advantage regardless of notions of right and wrong, as long as they believe they can get away with it. That is certainly the case with Wells’s, Griffon, The Invisible Man. The following passages reveal Griffon’s character and the effects of his invisibility.
"I was invisible, and I was only just beginning to realise the extraordinary advantage my invisibility gave me. My head was already teeming with plans of all the wild and wonderful things I had now impunity to do."
“This invisibility, in fact, is only good in two cases: It's useful in getting away, it's useful in approaching. It's particularly useful, therefore, in killing. I can walk round a man, whatever weapon he has, choose my point, strike as I like. Dodge as I like. Escape as I like."
"He is mad," said Kemp; "inhuman. He is pure selfishness. He thinks of nothing but his own advantage, his own safety. I have listened to such a story this morning of brutal self-seeking.... He has wounded men. He will kill them unless we can prevent him. He will create a panic. Nothing can stop him.”
Wells did a brilliant job with his narrative and characterization, moving seamlessly from slapstick and dark comedy, to horror, to tragedy. Griffon is an albino with a brilliant scientific mind, and his albinism provides an explanation for his alienation from society and desire to become “invisible.” Moreover, he is driven to madness, desperation and crime when, unlike Gyges in the myth, he lacks the means and ability to regain his visibility. “The Invisible Man” is another fine example of Wells’s ability to tell a compelling story that holds the readers interest while at the same time providing serious matters for reflection.
The Scarlet Forest is an excellent new collection of Robin Hood tales. In some ways, Robin, Marian and their band of Merry Men have evolved over the cThe Scarlet Forest is an excellent new collection of Robin Hood tales. In some ways, Robin, Marian and their band of Merry Men have evolved over the centuries just as the balladeers’ Middle-English, a mixture of Anglo-Saxon and Norman French, has transformed into the modern vernacular. However, one major theme of the old tales remains consistent in the re-telling: Robin Hood, the outlaw, enforces the law when corrupt officials, of both the state and the church, fail to do so.
The Robin Hood stories take satirical jabs at the malfeasance of officials, as well as those crafty individuals, both lay and clergy who hide behind a cloak of respectability while engaging in nefarious practices.
Here’s just one example of law enforcement, Robin Hood style; Robin’s encounter with a Corn Engrosser. The ancient legal term is defined as follows: “Engrossing and the kindred practices of forestalling and regrating were early regarded as serious offences in restraint of trade, and were punishable both at common law and by statute. They were of more particular importance in relation to the distribution of corn supplies.”
Robin, disguised as a beggar, meets up with a corn engrosser on the highway near Sherwood. He (Robin in disguise) warns the man of Robin Hood’s dislike for the prohibited trade: “Dost thou not know his (Robin’s) dislike for thine? To raise the price of corn by withholding it until famine prices are reached is depraved. Only profit concernest thee.” Robin tricks the engrosser into disclosing where he hides his money; Robin then reveals his true identity and “enforces the law” by confiscating the ill-gotten gains. Likewise, Robin and his band enforce the Forest Law including how much timber might be taken, by whom and for what purpose. Those who despoil Sherwood for their own personal gain had better be on the lookout for Robin Hood.
My first impression of Robin Hood was formed by movies and television, for example the 1938 Errol Flynn Adventures of Robin Hood and the 1950’s TV series with Richard Greene. The 20th century cinematic Robin Hood was itself partially derived from 19th century literature that had its roots in Sir Walter Scott’s Ivanhoe. Scott’s Robin of Locksley varies somewhat from the bawdier and more roguish, satirical character of Lancastrian and Yorkist era ballads and Tudor plays that were taken from an oral tradition that goes back to the Plantagenet Period. Moreover, the usurping Prince John versus Richard I, Norman versus Saxon plot is a modern addition to the Robin Hood legend. Regardless, throughout the centuries the concept of the honorable law-enforcing outlaw hero remains.
In the following passage from The Scarlet Forest, Anne/Marian affirms her husband’s true character: “Robin, thou art the outlaw who doth sit here defending the rule of the society that hath cast thee out, as hath been ever thy wont. Thou art the criminal who doth uphold justice better than the Sheriff. Thou art the robber who can be more generous than the gentry. Thou art the excommunicant who doth show more devotion than the clergy.”
The Scarlet Forest was very well-researched. It contains a comprehensive Historical Note that answers many questions I’ve had about the Robin Hood stories, or explains why some of the questions can’t be answered with certainty. I won’t wander too deep into the weeds—or the forest—about the multitude of interesting subjects raised by these tales that are addressed in the Note. Here are a few puzzling questions that the Note answers or explains. Was there an historical Robin Hood? Was he noble or common? What was his “real” name? When did he live? Was there an historical Marian (or Anne of the Hood)? Were Robin and Marian married? What about the Merry Men: Little John, Will Stutely, Will Scarlet (Gamewell), Arthur a Bland, Allan a Dale, Midge or Much the Miller, Friar Tuck et. al. Are they historical or fictional; individuals or composites? How do the Robin Hood stories relate to the history of the long bow?
In addition, the stories tell us something about the evolution of English law and government including the Forest Law, Magna Carta and the conflict between Church and State. There’s enough “meat” on the bones of these medieval stories for several of Robin’s feasts.
The Robin Hood stories can be analyzed to an extent far beyond the scope of my review. For example, taken as a whole, the arc of Robin’s story makes him arguably one of the great Tragic Heroes of English literature. However, to put it more simply, I like the adventure, humor, friendship, honor and romance of characters who fight for justice in an authentic historical setting, which is why I recommend this well-written, thoroughly researched and thoughtful version to readers of all ages. ...more
I first read Thomas More’s “Utopia” fifty years ago in a college English Lit. course. At the time, my knowledge of More was limited to “A Man for All I first read Thomas More’s “Utopia” fifty years ago in a college English Lit. course. At the time, my knowledge of More was limited to “A Man for All Seasons,” a film I’d seen, and very much liked, when it was first released in 1966. When I read “Utopia”, about two years after I viewed the film, I was bothered by what appeared to be contradictions within the text and also between the text and the character of its author. For example, compare a quote from “Utopia” on the subject of religious tolerance: “...no man ought to be punished for his religion" to More’s harsh treatment of Protestants, most notably William Tyndale, a translator of the Bible into the vernacular. In the end, Sir Thomas was punished for his religion as he had punished others for theirs. But was his condemnation of others for heresy against the Catholic Church and his execution for treason for refusing to openly acknowledge Henry VIII as head of the Church of England a distinction without a difference? “Utopia” is the product of a specific time, place and culture and ought to be considered within its historical context. Therefore, I’m going to begin with a brief biographical sketch of More and his world. Thomas More (1478-1535) More was born during the reign of Edward IV of the House of York, in the last decade of the thirty-year War of the Roses, a period of internecine warfare between the royal houses of Lancaster and York nicely summed up in Cardinal Wolseley’s lines from “The Man for All Seasons”: “Let the dynasty die with Henry Vlll and we'll have dynastic wars again. Blood-witted barons ramping the country from end to end.” More agreed in principle with Wolsey’s argument that the peace, stability and order established under the Tudor kings should be preserved for the common good. His conflict with the cardinal involved the means used to achieve the desired ends. Where does one draw the line when it comes to taking questionable, or even immoral or wicked means, to achieve a good end? In More’s case that bright line was established early in life; a line between his dual loyalties to Church and State. Where did his duty lie when those two ruling powers came into conflict? More was born a member of the privileged class. His father, Sir John More, was a judge with political connections good enough to get his talented twelve-year-old son a coveted position as page in the household of Archbishop Morton. Morton was both prelate and statesman, a Lancastrian who wisely switched sides to serve Edward IV. Following Edward’s death, Morton fled imprisonment under Richard III and aided Henry Tudor Earl of Richmond, the future Henry VII. After Richard’s defeat and death at the battle of Bosworth (1485) Morton became King Henry’s chief adviser. His services to both Church and State raised Morton to Archbishop of Canterbury and then to lord chancellor and cardinal, a prince of the church and the second most powerful man in England. Morton was impressed by the serious, studious and clever young page, so much so that he sent the young Thomas More to Oxford to advance and complete his studies. More was a great success as a classical scholar proficient in both Latin and Greek. After Oxford, the eighteen-year-old More was sent to London to study law at The Inns of Chancery, which qualified him for the Bar. During this period, he displayed an ascetic bent by wearing a hair shirt and practicing self-flagellation, and he continued ascetic practices throughout his life. Between 1503 and 1504 More joined the Carthusian monks' in their spiritual exercises. More reached a critical crossroads in his career: Would he pursue a strictly religious life, or remain a layman dedicated to the law and politics? He chose the latter, standing for election to Parliament in 1504 and marrying the following year. The fact that he didn’t choose to pursue a career as both cleric and statesman, like his mentor Morton and Morton’s successor, Cardinal Wolsey says something about the man’s character. It reminds me of the scene between the Cardinal and Sir Thomas in “A Man for All Seasons. More refuses to support Wolsey’s efforts to secure the king’s divorce because he disapproves of Wolsey’s method of coercing the church in England by threatening to confiscate its wealth. Cardinal Wolsey: More! You should have been a cleric! More: Like yourself, Your Grace? More rebukes the cardinal with sarcasm, implying that “A man cannot serve two masters.” More might have temporarily avoided the Church/State conflict by remaining a layman, but ultimately when tested, he couldn’t avoid the conflict between his duty to his sovereign and state and his own conscience. In doing so, he exchanged a life of material wealth and power for martyrdom and sainthood. From the time he was admitted to the Bar and entered parliament, More’s rise was to power was steady and swift. He became a trusted adviser to the young King Henry VIII. While acting as the king’s envoy in Flanders he drafted his description in Latin of the imaginary island Utopia, which was completed and published in 1516. During the course of the next thirteen years More continued to climb the ladder of temporal success until, upon the fall of Cardinal Wolsey, he accepted the position of lord chancellor, the first layman to hold that office. Three years later, unable to support the king in the matter of Henry’s divorce from Queen Catherine, he resigned his office. He remained silent on the subject of the divorce and the king’s new title as head of the Church of England, believing the legal maxim, Qui tacet consentiret (silence gives consent) would defend him from a charge of treason. But in the end, More’s silence put him in direct conflict with the king, and that sealed his fate. UTOPIA: Libellus vere aureus, nec minus salutaris quam festivus, de optimo rei publicae statu deque nova insula Utopia. This translates, "A truly golden little book, no less beneficial than entertaining, of a republic's best state and of the new island Utopia". The original draft title was wryly humorous. This was shortened to the less cheeky, De optimo rei publicae statu deque nova insula Utopia: "Of a republic's best state and of the new island Utopia". Utopia means nowhere, and its founder Utopos is literally “nobody.” Frame Narrative In Book One, More is on a real-life mission to Flanders to resolve a dispute between Henry VIII and the Prince of Castile. While in Antwerp, More encounters his friend, the Humanist Peter Giles (aka Pieter Gillis aka Petrus Aegidius) who introduces More to the fictitious Portuguese seaman and explorer, Raphael Hytholoday. Giles vouches for Hytholoday (the name literally means speaker of nonsense) as more than just a traveler; he’s well-read and a good and wise man. Can this good and wise man effectively serve a European prince? Raphael “The Speaker of Nonsense” doesn’t think so. The set-up allows More to initiate a discussion about contemporary problems such as the tendency of monarchs to start wars and to waste money on conquest and courtly splendor. He also argues against the death penalty to punish theft, saying the thieves might as well murder their victims to remove witnesses since the punishment for theft and murder is the same. There follows a discussion about the socio-economic causes of theft that set the stage for Hytholoday’s Utopian narrative suggesting that waste, greed and an unequal distribution of wealth and property are the root causes of crime. The proposed solution is a form of communism. In this section More was careful to include a reference, in his own voice, to his mentor Cardinal Morton who ably served both Church and State, implying that a good and wise man, like More himself, could hold such a position under a Tudor monarchy. Book Two: Hytholoday’s Utopia “No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and Mammon.” New Testament The above quote forms a red thread woven into the fabric of Hytholoday’s narrative, and More uses that Biblically inspired theme to critique greed and corruption in both the Church and State. But he uses a cautious indirect attack by putting the criticism in the mouth of his “speaker of nonsense” and addressing his arguments in Latin for a limited audience of Renaissance scholars. The Utopian socio-economic system covers a number of topics that were controversial in More’s time and some remain so to this day. To discuss each and every one of them requires at the very least a well-resourced essay, and perhaps a book as long or longer than “Utopia” itself; such a discussion extends far beyond the scope of this GR review. More left the discussion open-ended. At the end of Hytholoday’s narrative, More provides a “disclaimer”, indicating that while there were some good, or at least interesting policies in the Utopian system, there was also much that he found absurd. These matters include government, national defense, trade and foreign relations, education, work and leisure, economics, slavery, laws both civil and criminal, marriage & divorce, healthcare (including euthanasia/assisted suicide for the terminally ill), and religion, with an argument for tolerance. I’ll limit my observations to Utopia’s government, economics and religion with some reference to related matters. Utopia’s government: More designed a complex form of republic grounded in the family and extended families. The extended families might be compared to the Tribes of the ancient Roman Republic that elected their senators and tribunes. In Utopia, groups of thirty families elect magistrates to govern them. A larger group nominates four candidates for election as Prince, and the magistrates choose the Prince from that list. Utopian Economy: The economy could be described as “Christian Communism” See Acts 4:32-35, "Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common. ... 34 There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. 35 They laid it at the apostles' feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need." The Utopians are pagans but, according to Hytholoday, the best among them are amenable to Christian conversion. More takes some time sketching out a complex system for the island, including a means of foreign trade, that works without private property and money. However, this system is a “thought experiment” for scholarly debate that allows More, hidden behind the persona of his “speaker of nonsense”, to criticize the socio-economic conditions of his time. “I can have no other notion of all the other governments that I see or know than that they are a conspiracy of the rich, who on pretense of managing the public only pursue their private ends, and devise all the ways and arts they can find out: first, that they may without danger preserve all that they have so ill acquired, and then that they may engage the poor to toil and labor for them at as low rates as possible, and oppress them as much as they please." At the end of the long narrative, More provides the following disclaimer: “When Raphael had thus made an end of speaking, though many things occurred to me, both concerning the manners and laws of that people, that seemed very absurd, as well in their way of making war, as in their notions of religion and divine matters—together with several other particulars, but chiefly what seemed the foundation of all the rest, their living in common, without the use of money…” (emphasis added) More ends by saying that Raphael was tired and therefore, out of consideration, More did not press the narrator with a dispute over the seeming absurdities of the Utopian narrative. However, More does say he looks forward to a future discussion, which leads him to close as follows: “In the meanwhile, though it must be confessed that he is both a very learned man and a person who has obtained a great knowledge of the world, I cannot perfectly agree to everything he has related. However, there are many things in the commonwealth of Utopia that I rather wish, than hope, to see followed in our governments.” (emphasis added) Conclusion: Wish rather than hope. The inconsistencies that bothered me fifty years ago remain unresolved, but at least I’ve gained some insight into the seeming contradictions. Hytholoday, the “Speaker of Nonsense” argues for his own peculiar brand of Utopian Socialism like a character in one of Plato’s Dialogues. More, a rising star as both scholar and statesman, plays Socrates. He uses the narrative to critique his own society by offering a radical alternative, and then equivocates by stating that while many of the manners and customs of Utopia “seemed absurd”, and therefore impractical, there were “many things” that “he wished rather than hoped” would be followed by the European governments of his day. But he doesn’t specifically state what it was that he “wished rather than hoped” for. The Utopian way of life is in marked contrast to the experience of the peoples of Tudor England and the several European states, not to mention the way almost everyone lives today. The greatest absurdity is to think that people in a modern society could be “happy” under the constraints of strict conformity; to wear the same plain clothes; to eat the same plain “healthy” foods; to live in the same houses, and so forth. Most people are competitive; they have some ambition to get ahead in life; they respond to material incentives. More was no different. From the time he was a page to Cardinal Morton, he worked diligently to advance himself. As he climbed the ladder of success, he didn’t object to having “Sir” in front of his name; he didn’t refuse the office of “Lord Chancellor” when it was offered, and before he had his falling out with the king, he and his family lived lives of privilege, ease and comfort compared to the vast majority of the people of England, or of any other nation on earth at that time. But that doesn’t necessarily make him a hypocrite; it makes him human. In "A Man for All Seasons," Richard Rich, a former friend, now Sir Richard, Attorney General for Wales and dressed splendidly to display his newly achieved status, gives perjured testimony that sends More to the block. More looks at Rich’s badge of office and sadly remarks: “It profits a man nothing to give his soul for the whole world ... but for Wales?” More is a saint. For those who share his faith, he’s eternally happy in a much better place than either this world or the imaginary Utopia. Rich became Lord Chancellor of England, a wealthy baron with a large family, who died peacefully in his bed. Where is he now?...more
I first read this book about forty years ago, after watching an excellent BBC TV adaptation (1975). On second reading, I found myself smiling and occaI first read this book about forty years ago, after watching an excellent BBC TV adaptation (1975). On second reading, I found myself smiling and occasionally laughing aloud at the jokes and slapstick scenes, and I believe those comic bits, now more than a century old, have held up very well. However, this prototypical buddy road trip (or river trip) up the Thames has a dark side that pops out at times before beating a hasty retreat behind its shield of jovial gags.
Three late Victorian, middle-class young Englishmen and the narrator’s dog take a boat trip up the Thames. Jerome used this narrative framework for a series of jokes, comic tales and slapstick scenes based on keen observations of human and canine behavior. There are jokes about the characters’ quirks and foibles, including, but not limited to, hypochondria, eating, drinking, cooking and sleeping habits, bad singing and even worse banjo playing, not to mention rowing, punting, sailing, fishing etc. often in a lazy, incompetent or reckless manner. As for the dog, his Fox Terrier nature gets him into scrapes and dangerous confrontations, most notably with a hot tea kettle and a tough old Tom cat. The slapstick scenes are many and varied; among the funniest is an attempt to open a can of pineapple chunks without a can opener. The Three Stooges couldn’t have done it better—or worse. And the scene where a bunch of tourists get lost in the maze at Hampton Court is priceless.
Jerome interweaves some poetic descriptions of the journey into his comic narrative. He also makes some philosophical observations, references to several historical sites, and even speculates on what people in 2088 will think of the commonplace objects of 1888. Will a cheap late Victorian knick-knack become a treasured antique?
As for the “dark side” I mentioned above. It comes out in the moodier descriptions of nature, and culminates in the sudden appearance of a dead woman floating downriver. The scene, which appears near the end of the story, is reminiscent of Thomas Hood’s poem, The Bridge of Sighs, about a young woman who drowned herself in the Thames. Moreover, the scene is foreshadowed by a dead dog spotted in the river. The scene with the dead dog is darkly humorous; the scene with the woman is deadly serious. The weather changes to reflect the mood; cold rain pours down from a gray sky. The friends tell morbid jokes about disease and death. They try to tough it out. “On one point we were all agreed, and that was that, come what might, we would go through with this job to the bitter end. We had come out for a fortnight’s enjoyment on the river, and a fortnight’s enjoyment on the river we meant to have. If it killed us!”
But they’d had enough. The three men and a dog abandon the boat and board a train for London, where they enjoy a good meal (with the dog) and a show (sans canine).