Showing posts with label T.H. White. Show all posts
Showing posts with label T.H. White. Show all posts

Tuesday, 14 August 2007

T.H. White: The Age of Scandal (1950)

Published: Penguin, 2000

T.H. White is obviously best known for his Arthur stories, starting with The Sword in the Stone, and after that, for his book on falconry, The Goshawk. So a guess as to which period he would choose as the subject for a series of essays on history would probably be medieval. Instead, The Age of Scandal is about England in the second half of the eighteenth century and the beginning of the nineteenth, roughly the reigns of George III and George IV. The book chronicles the scandals of the age (with a chapter on the Marquis de Sade taking it across the Channel), and is really a minimal narrative thread connecting excerpts from contemporary letters and diaries.

That White had views which now seem a little eccentric is evident from the very first sentence: "Well, we have lived to see the end of civilization in England." (Those who read the table of contents before this statement would have realised his eccentricity from the inclusion of an essay entitled Ears.) He believed that the essence of civilisation in England was the country house aristocratic culture that was effectively destroyed by changes in the property laws during the first half of the twentieth century - something which may have made this start seem less outrageous to a committed Tory at the end of Labour's first post-war government. It does seem that the rest of the book is devoted to prove something quite different: that there was nothing civilised about the late eighteenth century either.

On the other hand, he may well not have intended this to be taken seriously. Among his other suggestions that must surely be tongue in cheek is the suggestion that the reason that the French revolution failed to spread to England was that the English have a sense of humour. Later, White quotes an English description of King Christian VII of Denmark, which ends, "That is all that decency permits to be said, the rest must be imagined." Then, linking this to an account by a French writer who is much less discrete, he adds, "It need not be imagined, however, by people who understand French."

There are lots of interesting, amusing and enjoyable quoted documents in The Age of Scandal. It is not the place to look for in depth analysis, or indeed for anything (the lack of an index makes it almost useless for reference). White also expects a knowledge of the events of the period; people and events are referred to without explanation or further mention. But if you have a passing familiarity with the personalities, reading the highlights and raciest sections of contemporary accounts of them is fascinating. The bittiness which comes from being a collection of essays is something of a problem, with events referred to without being described elsewhere when in a more unified narrative they surely would be (scandals involving the sons of George III are a case in point; despite an essay on Royal Gossip, there are other scandals mentioned elsewhere that do not appear in that section at all). But otherwise this is a most entertaining read.

Friday, 15 February 2002

T.H. White: Candle in the Wind (1940)

Edition: W.H. Collins, 1958 (Buy from Amazon)
Review number: 1090

In the last few centuries, one of the most important changes in English literature, particularly popular literature, must be the rise of the "happy ending". At the end of a novel, which is the form that over this period has come to dominate, it is conventional for the good to triumph and for the wicked to fail, be punished or redeemed. This was clearly not always the case, and in medieval heroic literature it is often almost the opposite which occurs; Beowulf may triumph over Grendel, but the poem ends instead with his death at the hands of another monster. Taking things to the death of the hero rather than having a fairy tale ending is due to the idea that this is the only way their story could really end (though to the medieval mind death was not of course the end at all). Its appeal as a device is probably connected to the presence of death all around; as our own deaths have grown more remote, we have become more reluctant to face up to them or talk about the subject.

The cycle of Arthur stories is so much centred around his death that it was used as the title of Malory's version: the Morte d'Arthur. White bases the fourth part of The Once and Future King on the last two books of Malory's tale, the first of which is preceded by "and here after foloweth the most pytous history of the morte of kynge Arthur". In these books, Agravaine and Mordred go to Arthur and accuse Lancelot and Guinevere of having an adulterous affair; reluctant as he is to officially find out about this (and White makes it clear that he already actually knows), they eventually force him to allow them to lay a trap and catch them together. This leads to a reluctant estrangement between Lancelot and Arthur, after the former kills Agravaine and the knights with him even though surprised unarmed. Lancelot flees to France, and when Arthur goes overseas and besieges him, Mordred proclaims himself king. This is the start of the civil war which ends in Arthur's death and the end of his empire and the chivalry he stood for.

It is not to be expected, then, that White should turn this tale into something cheerful. Neither The Queen of Air and Darkness nor The Ill-Made Knight are, even starting with less "pytous" material. What he does is in accordance with his method throughout the quartet of novels (the later published Book of Merlyn is an exception), is to aim to make Malory's story and the effect it would have had on its medieval audience accessible to the twentieth century. In this case, the main technique he uses is to make the participants in the tragedy elderly and tired of life, rather than the teenaged lovers found in most modern fiction. This gives an elegiac feel to the story. Everyone knows that it ends in a tragedy, including the participants, but they have no choice but to wearily go through the motions. It is almost like Beckett in this, though his plays have a black humour not present here. It is very calm, and very sad.

Wednesday, 6 February 2002

T.H. White: The Sword in the Stone (1939)

Edition: W.H. Collins, 1958 (Buy from Amazon)
Review number: 1081

Even without the Disney film, the first novel in White's Arthurian saga, The Once and Future King, would be a major classic of the fantasy genre. The story here is the familiar one of the childhood of Arthur, growing up ignorant of his identity with Merlin as a tutor, and yet it is told in a way which is different to any other version of the tale.

White's world is made by combining several backgrounds. His Arthur comes principally from Malory, with its late medieval setting, which is put together with a traditional picture of "Merrie England", with Robin Hood in the forest, and stereotypes of the English countryside before the First World War - hearty squires discussing jousting statistics as real ones would have talked about cricket. Entirely White's own, so far as I know, is the method of Arthur's education, as Merlin transforms him into a succession of animals.

It is in the character of Merlin that much of the charm of this novel subsists, the quality most clearly brought out in the film. The Sword in the Stone is a children's story, while the remaining volumes (four, including the rather different Book of Merlyn) are really aimed at teenagers and adults. It is humorous where the others are serious, even if there are chilling moments (Wart's time as an ant, in particular). There is also an anti-war message (or at least an anti-fascist one) encapsulated by the badger almost at the end, when he asks Wart whether he preferred being an ant or a goose; this is no doubt prompted by the situation in Europe while The Sword in the Stone was being written. It will surely be still enjoyable for most older children and adults and will continue to be so even if it is beginning to seem a little dated.