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legionseagle, a little later than planned owing to some email glitches at my end, for which, apologies.
--L.B.
At the Antonia Forest conference in Bournemouth in 2006 someone observed:
"Trennels is basically a TARDIS. It has all these extra buildings which only materialise when the plot needs them." (And dematerialise, too, natch: hence Great-Uncle Lawrence and His Amazing Disappearing Hawkhouse.)
In Peter's Room it's the turn of the Old Shippen (available for general storage, coal- and coke-bunkering and winter hobby pursuits. Black Masses extra.) and the adjacent Old Yard, which has ten-foot high walls and a gate to match. (What were the Marlows who built it trying to keep in? Prize wallabies?)
For the first time since TMATT we have Peter foregrounded. While chopping wood in the Old Yard (so avoiding Madame Orly) he's also making the better acquaintance of Daks, who here makes his first on-screen appearance. Another inventive literary device, the infodump via pedigree poodle pup, and it works rather well, especially given the buttoned up nature of Marlows in general and their attitudes to animals by way of contrast (Mikes observed in How to Be an Alien that it's quite acceptable for the English to have a long walk with their best friend and never exchange a word with him; if one takes one's dog instead you must converse.)
Mrs Bertie – developing traces of a personality here, compared to the stereotype of Falconer's Lure – tells him to stack the chopped wood in the Old Shippen, a disused cowshed across the yard. Daks vanishes, then his barking leads Peter into a hidden room above: a place stuffed with junk and possibilities.
We get a first glimpse of Rowan at work. She, Mr Tranter and Ted Coulthard, the cow man, are building a lambing pen in a bitter wind when Peter arrives to ask if he can use the room for his own purposes. There follow two and a half pages of pure comedy shot through with nice flashes of observation (Rowan, having banged her thumb with a mallet is "concentratedly silent, sucking it").
Discussion of the Old Shippen's murky past leads into one of the themes of the book: the Marlow family's connections with the district and how the "present management" are coping with being simultaneously newcomers and a family with a long and colourful local history.
Harry Marlow, who built the Old Shippen, had a popular reputation for being in league with the Devil. The building's evil reputation lingers. Beasts put in it never do well, the previous vicar's refusal to carry out an exorcism remains a bone of contention, and Ted Coulthard's grandfather, when a boy, claimed to have encountered the Devil in person, sitting on the roof-tree and singing to himself (the best tunes, presumably).
One of the questions the book raises is whether the fault is in people's stars or in themselves. The debate's terms are outlined in the original discussion between Rowan, Peter, Ted and Mr Tranter. Is the building itself cursed or is it the choices people make with respect to it which causes things to go awry?
The light, up-beat tone of the chapter – it's the start of the holidays, Christmas is coming – is sustained even through the intended bombshell of Miss Keith's letter regarding the row about the twins, the match and the Play.
On which topic, Madame Orly's devastating comment that the twins had obviously shown greater artistic integrity than Miss Keith, so she should stop complaining, will never stop being funny.
This is a darker chapter than the first in several ways, only lifted in the last pages by the hustle and bustle of the others' arrival from Kingscote.
Forest paints an evocative picture of how the room above the Old Shippen looks at dusk. Furthermore, all the bits Peter choses to save from "the Viking's funeral" he makes of the junk are evocative of death: tropical butterflies pinned to cards, blown birds' eggs and a heap of antique swords and pistols.
Given Peter's spotty record with guns (series bag to date: one Kontenadmiral (intended); one goshawk (emphatically not)), his pointing the pistols nonchalantly down the stairs and firing them in the hope they're loaded makes my blood run thick with cold, especially with Daks running loose about the place (how on earth would Nicola have explained that to Esther???).
In a throwaway line, we learn that Trennels was built out of the proceeds of slavery (So far as fic goes, so far as I know only![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ankaret in her brilliant piece Sugar has tackled this aspect of Marlow history).
Finally, Peter discovers farm logs in a trunk, going back at least to the 17th century (any historian want to comment about the plausibility of the ease with which Peter deciphers the older entries?) He learns of an ancestor, Malise, who broke with his family and rode away on his 16th birthday "to serve the Man of Blood Charles Stuart."
Peter immediately identifies with Malise – his support for the loner, the rebel, trumps even his natural political inclinations (he's been a Parliamentarian since the first term of prep school, at least) and ignores the heartbreak of a family at war with itself. "O Absalom my son my son" is a cry of loss ringing across the ages, but falls, as far as Peter is concerned, on closed ears.
This book is the one with the most direct references to TMATT, so the echoes of the last time Peter found ancestral papers in a trunk are almost certainly intentional (there's even the "By Watch and Ward"/"Under Two Flags" thematic link of discarded, out-dated, jingoistic juvenile fiction.)
Lieut. Foley, too, identified with an ancestor who set himself apart from his community: Fabian the wrecker. It's an unsettling parallel, underscored when the sovereigns Peter thought he'd found on a beam turn out to be unused farthings.
"Fairy gold" is his immediate assumption, not his own will to believe causing him to overlook the direct evidence of his senses. Nicola, though, sees and appreciates the farthings for what they are, rather than what delusion turns them into.
The third chapter is almost as long as the first two put together and packed. It's at first kaleidoscopic (the vivid economy with which Forest gets Christmas over is breath-taking) and then slows down as Nicola re-encounters Patrick, is forced to face the prospect of hunting as well as fears about keeping hawks over the winter (Patrick is his normal tactful self about how she's been managing to date: "They say's the worst thing you can possibly do") and Doris is introduced.
Doris is a great improvement on Mrs Bertie – not least because she avoids the "Miss" and "Master" forelock-tugging and also has a lively style as a raconteur. Furthermore, she's not afraid to act as the voice of authority. When, in another flashback to Lieut. Foley, Peter twists Nicola's arms up behind her back and carries on doing it after she's told him "Don't , Peter. You're hurting" only Doris's decisive intervention stops it from going – where? It's an unexpectedly unsettling moment.
Patrick arrives, is shown the upper room, takes to the farm log (like a duck to water) and Peter tentatively raises the topic of Malise. Patrick is about to say something when they're all interrupted by Lawrie, in a high state of agitation and crying, "it's not fair".
Which, I have to say, for once I agree on. Catkin's an equus ex machina as regards large swathes of the plot, especially the Patrick/Ginty relationship. Patrick first really meets Ginty when she's on Catkin's back – calm, confident, in control and yet needing just a little help that only he, Patrick, can supply. It does, however, make no apparent sense why the Marlow parents choose at this point to give a gift which is not only disproportionate to the family finances but to any gift ever given to any of the other seven children. All suggestions gratefully received.
Anyway, the four younger Marlows, three dogs, one merlin and Patrick colonise the room above the Old Shippen (somewhat to Peter's suppressed resentment) and, when snow shuts off other options, we get the introduction of Gondal. Which I suspect will be a major point for discussion below the line, so on this point I'll simply flag up two issues – why is Nicola, the Polar Expedition, so visibly reluctant to engage with the proposed Gondal, and how does it tie in with other indications of her exclusion elsewhere in the chapter? Secondly, does anyone fancy writing Gothic fanfic in the style of the Misses Ramsey?
General discussion points – a few that spring to mind:
Superstition – from the "X" drawn across the water to avert a quarrel to the whole business with the shippen. The Devil on the roof-tree – yes, no or on the fence?
The Marlows in transition, from holiday visitors to members of the local community.
Rowan, working side by side with Ted Coulthard and Mr Tranter: can we say the relationship modelled here is, "Wet behind the ears but promising junior officer, very senior NCOs"?
Peter's character – bearing in mind earlier questions about Peter's judgement (of himself and others, and of situations). How does his obsession with Malise tie in? What about the Foley parallel?
Ginty and Patrick. Patrick and Nicola. Wedges, exclusion, serially monogamous friendships and awkwardness.
The Brontes as filtered through Marlow consciousnesses – a match made in Hell?
Gondal – again, so far as we've got, what issues are already developing? Do the hidden agendas (of Ginty, identifying with Emily Bronte, of Peter, identifying with Malise, of Lawrie, just wanting to act at any price) complement or conflict?
Anything else? Have at it!
legionseagle, a little later than planned owing to some email glitches at my end, for which, apologies.--L.B.
At the Antonia Forest conference in Bournemouth in 2006 someone observed:
"Trennels is basically a TARDIS. It has all these extra buildings which only materialise when the plot needs them." (And dematerialise, too, natch: hence Great-Uncle Lawrence and His Amazing Disappearing Hawkhouse.)
In Peter's Room it's the turn of the Old Shippen (available for general storage, coal- and coke-bunkering and winter hobby pursuits. Black Masses extra.) and the adjacent Old Yard, which has ten-foot high walls and a gate to match. (What were the Marlows who built it trying to keep in? Prize wallabies?)
For the first time since TMATT we have Peter foregrounded. While chopping wood in the Old Yard (so avoiding Madame Orly) he's also making the better acquaintance of Daks, who here makes his first on-screen appearance. Another inventive literary device, the infodump via pedigree poodle pup, and it works rather well, especially given the buttoned up nature of Marlows in general and their attitudes to animals by way of contrast (Mikes observed in How to Be an Alien that it's quite acceptable for the English to have a long walk with their best friend and never exchange a word with him; if one takes one's dog instead you must converse.)
Mrs Bertie – developing traces of a personality here, compared to the stereotype of Falconer's Lure – tells him to stack the chopped wood in the Old Shippen, a disused cowshed across the yard. Daks vanishes, then his barking leads Peter into a hidden room above: a place stuffed with junk and possibilities.
We get a first glimpse of Rowan at work. She, Mr Tranter and Ted Coulthard, the cow man, are building a lambing pen in a bitter wind when Peter arrives to ask if he can use the room for his own purposes. There follow two and a half pages of pure comedy shot through with nice flashes of observation (Rowan, having banged her thumb with a mallet is "concentratedly silent, sucking it").
Discussion of the Old Shippen's murky past leads into one of the themes of the book: the Marlow family's connections with the district and how the "present management" are coping with being simultaneously newcomers and a family with a long and colourful local history.
Harry Marlow, who built the Old Shippen, had a popular reputation for being in league with the Devil. The building's evil reputation lingers. Beasts put in it never do well, the previous vicar's refusal to carry out an exorcism remains a bone of contention, and Ted Coulthard's grandfather, when a boy, claimed to have encountered the Devil in person, sitting on the roof-tree and singing to himself (the best tunes, presumably).
One of the questions the book raises is whether the fault is in people's stars or in themselves. The debate's terms are outlined in the original discussion between Rowan, Peter, Ted and Mr Tranter. Is the building itself cursed or is it the choices people make with respect to it which causes things to go awry?
The light, up-beat tone of the chapter – it's the start of the holidays, Christmas is coming – is sustained even through the intended bombshell of Miss Keith's letter regarding the row about the twins, the match and the Play.
On which topic, Madame Orly's devastating comment that the twins had obviously shown greater artistic integrity than Miss Keith, so she should stop complaining, will never stop being funny.
This is a darker chapter than the first in several ways, only lifted in the last pages by the hustle and bustle of the others' arrival from Kingscote.
Forest paints an evocative picture of how the room above the Old Shippen looks at dusk. Furthermore, all the bits Peter choses to save from "the Viking's funeral" he makes of the junk are evocative of death: tropical butterflies pinned to cards, blown birds' eggs and a heap of antique swords and pistols.
Given Peter's spotty record with guns (series bag to date: one Kontenadmiral (intended); one goshawk (emphatically not)), his pointing the pistols nonchalantly down the stairs and firing them in the hope they're loaded makes my blood run thick with cold, especially with Daks running loose about the place (how on earth would Nicola have explained that to Esther???).
In a throwaway line, we learn that Trennels was built out of the proceeds of slavery (So far as fic goes, so far as I know only
ankaret in her brilliant piece Sugar has tackled this aspect of Marlow history). Finally, Peter discovers farm logs in a trunk, going back at least to the 17th century (any historian want to comment about the plausibility of the ease with which Peter deciphers the older entries?) He learns of an ancestor, Malise, who broke with his family and rode away on his 16th birthday "to serve the Man of Blood Charles Stuart."
Peter immediately identifies with Malise – his support for the loner, the rebel, trumps even his natural political inclinations (he's been a Parliamentarian since the first term of prep school, at least) and ignores the heartbreak of a family at war with itself. "O Absalom my son my son" is a cry of loss ringing across the ages, but falls, as far as Peter is concerned, on closed ears.
This book is the one with the most direct references to TMATT, so the echoes of the last time Peter found ancestral papers in a trunk are almost certainly intentional (there's even the "By Watch and Ward"/"Under Two Flags" thematic link of discarded, out-dated, jingoistic juvenile fiction.)
Lieut. Foley, too, identified with an ancestor who set himself apart from his community: Fabian the wrecker. It's an unsettling parallel, underscored when the sovereigns Peter thought he'd found on a beam turn out to be unused farthings.
"Fairy gold" is his immediate assumption, not his own will to believe causing him to overlook the direct evidence of his senses. Nicola, though, sees and appreciates the farthings for what they are, rather than what delusion turns them into.
The third chapter is almost as long as the first two put together and packed. It's at first kaleidoscopic (the vivid economy with which Forest gets Christmas over is breath-taking) and then slows down as Nicola re-encounters Patrick, is forced to face the prospect of hunting as well as fears about keeping hawks over the winter (Patrick is his normal tactful self about how she's been managing to date: "They say's the worst thing you can possibly do") and Doris is introduced.
Doris is a great improvement on Mrs Bertie – not least because she avoids the "Miss" and "Master" forelock-tugging and also has a lively style as a raconteur. Furthermore, she's not afraid to act as the voice of authority. When, in another flashback to Lieut. Foley, Peter twists Nicola's arms up behind her back and carries on doing it after she's told him "Don't , Peter. You're hurting" only Doris's decisive intervention stops it from going – where? It's an unexpectedly unsettling moment.
Patrick arrives, is shown the upper room, takes to the farm log (like a duck to water) and Peter tentatively raises the topic of Malise. Patrick is about to say something when they're all interrupted by Lawrie, in a high state of agitation and crying, "it's not fair".
Which, I have to say, for once I agree on. Catkin's an equus ex machina as regards large swathes of the plot, especially the Patrick/Ginty relationship. Patrick first really meets Ginty when she's on Catkin's back – calm, confident, in control and yet needing just a little help that only he, Patrick, can supply. It does, however, make no apparent sense why the Marlow parents choose at this point to give a gift which is not only disproportionate to the family finances but to any gift ever given to any of the other seven children. All suggestions gratefully received.
Anyway, the four younger Marlows, three dogs, one merlin and Patrick colonise the room above the Old Shippen (somewhat to Peter's suppressed resentment) and, when snow shuts off other options, we get the introduction of Gondal. Which I suspect will be a major point for discussion below the line, so on this point I'll simply flag up two issues – why is Nicola, the Polar Expedition, so visibly reluctant to engage with the proposed Gondal, and how does it tie in with other indications of her exclusion elsewhere in the chapter? Secondly, does anyone fancy writing Gothic fanfic in the style of the Misses Ramsey?
General discussion points – a few that spring to mind:
Superstition – from the "X" drawn across the water to avert a quarrel to the whole business with the shippen. The Devil on the roof-tree – yes, no or on the fence?
The Marlows in transition, from holiday visitors to members of the local community.
Rowan, working side by side with Ted Coulthard and Mr Tranter: can we say the relationship modelled here is, "Wet behind the ears but promising junior officer, very senior NCOs"?
Peter's character – bearing in mind earlier questions about Peter's judgement (of himself and others, and of situations). How does his obsession with Malise tie in? What about the Foley parallel?
Ginty and Patrick. Patrick and Nicola. Wedges, exclusion, serially monogamous friendships and awkwardness.
The Brontes as filtered through Marlow consciousnesses – a match made in Hell?
Gondal – again, so far as we've got, what issues are already developing? Do the hidden agendas (of Ginty, identifying with Emily Bronte, of Peter, identifying with Malise, of Lawrie, just wanting to act at any price) complement or conflict?
Anything else? Have at it!
Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-09-26 08:52 am (UTC)For what it's worth, I still think it was outrageously unfair of Mrs Marlow.
Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-09-26 09:02 am (UTC)Right now I'm trying to remind myself I have work to do...
Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-09-26 09:08 am (UTC)I think people make some very interesting points though!
Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-09-26 11:08 am (UTC)My view is that
a) With the Shippen grab and Catkin, AF is showing that family life, and life in general, is unfair and people have to suck it up. When you have 8 children, you simply don't have time to arbitrate every squabble (I find it impossible with two) and you will - because you are human and fallible - act unjustly occasionally. I have a friend who's the oldest of 8, who was complaining to me just the other day how her mother's handed out her jewellery to various siblings seemingly randomly, causing great upset, how she favours the one boy (in fact maybe my friend's mother is Mrs M!) It happens
b) Mrs M is worried about Ginty and her reaction to the Foley incident and is trying to make it up to Ginty - probably she realises they were too harsh on her over the summer, hence the Unity incident and is feeling guilty.
c) She has also realised that Ginty's looks will get into trouble if they're not careful and decides - ironically - a horse will provide a healthy distraction
d) Pam sees something of her younger self in Ginty - the party girl who loves wholesome outdoor pursuits and is rewarding this. Probably wrongly, but I know when my children show an enthusiasm for something that I'm passionate about, it's very exciting and they tend to be rewarded.
Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-09-26 02:47 pm (UTC)It is the same doubt I always had when reading Ballet Shoes, that the girls live in a permanent state of financial catastrophe, and even getting basic clothes is a huge drama, but the Fossil household continues to run with staff throughout. As does Trennels of course; Mrs Bertie AND Doris can be afforded more easily than a bicycle.
Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-09-26 03:25 pm (UTC)I guess if you're runnning a big lodging house (Ballet Shoes) or farm household (Trennels) some kind of help, in the era before much in the way of labour-saving devices, is fairly essential. Though (to go all Doylian suddenly) I do think Forest probably just forgot about the bicycles - there's no reason really why the kids couldn't have had them. Like the knife with sixteen blades - I bet Nicola did get a wrist watch before she was eighteen, if only because by the time of Run Away Home a wrist watch would be ridiculously small beer to ever the most cash-strapped family!
Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-09-26 04:00 pm (UTC)Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-09-26 07:25 pm (UTC)Kat S
Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-09-26 08:41 pm (UTC)But as for letting Rowan take up farming - yes, agree completely, although at least she did try and stop this, but was overruled by Geoff and Rowan herself.
Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-09-30 09:50 am (UTC)I don't know if you're familiar with the Persephone imprint, they publish neglected works of women's fiction and non-fic, but there's one manual called How To Run Your Home Without Help, originally published in 1949, clearly a very modern notion and another called House Bound about a woman making a revolutionary decision to go without help during the war and finding a) it's a huge struggle and b)everyone is appalled.
So in short, Mrs M is living in a large, cold, dirty farmhouse with no training in housekeeping and from a privileged background that in no way encourage her to be involved. So to me, it all makes sense. I also think there would be a huge amount of admin concerning the move. But yes, on the bicycles front I think AF simply forgot!
Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-09-30 03:26 pm (UTC)Although she doesn't seem naturally domestic/a great manager, it always feels like she does her best, and she certainly never comes across as a heartless social type like Mrs Frewen (or maybe Mrs Merrick...)
(And what about Ann in this book? I think there must be a lot to do, because presumably Ann must be busy helping her mother - as she never seems to have any friends or hobbies, apart from the piano. Or maybe Ann is having a nervous breakdown and that is why Mrs M is so occupied for the whole book that she never notices that her other children are holed up the whole time in the Old Shippen...)
Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-10-01 06:17 pm (UTC)Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-09-30 05:02 pm (UTC)I'm currently re-reading the various Provincial Lady novels (reduced to under £1 on Amazon just now), which if you haven't read I do commend; she, too, is pretty helpless domestically, and when she takes a London flat prefers to eat out in cafés, however revolting, than to try to do her own cooking.
All this to say Pam Marlow was very much a product of her age and time.
Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-10-01 12:24 pm (UTC)Re: Catkin purchase - why?
From:Re: Catkin purchase - why?
From:Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-09-26 07:07 pm (UTC)Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-09-26 08:31 pm (UTC)Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-09-26 09:47 pm (UTC)Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-10-02 08:38 pm (UTC)Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-09-29 10:07 pm (UTC)That doesn't make it fair, but I think AF very often makes the point that the actions/decisions of the upper decks seem irrational to the lower decks whether or not they really are. We get to see a lot of the decision-making process at Kingscote, and it usually has something behind it, though it's rarely anything that the students affected by the decision could have guessed at. We don't get to see the decision-making process here, so it's hard to say what Mrs. Marlow's motivations are, but I don't think she's motivated by favoritism, because in Falconer's Lure, for instance, she shows no sign of preferring Ginty to the others. I think it probably just goes in the "seemed like a good idea at the time" file, and we do know Mrs. Marlow is an impulse buyer. Maybe she thinks something will turn up and she can do something nice for the others later, but right now she specifically wants to buy these two horses, and clearly she and Ginty will get the most out of them.
Basically, I can't take a side. It's probably not something I'd do, unless I had the funds to do something more or less matching for the other kids, but then I have no idea what it's like to live on a farm and have eight children and a husband who's always away. And she's only about forty, and she's more or less alone in a huge house most of the time, after having raised a huge family in a relatively small house - all I can say is that it must be very strange to be Mrs. Marlow, and I really have no idea what her stress level is and how much she might feel the need to liven up her life with something like Chocbar.
Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-09-26 12:43 pm (UTC)Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-09-26 01:56 pm (UTC)Having said that, I think the bit in the shippen where she is so desperate to have her grievance listened to that she is just about to rush dramatically out into the snow is hilarious.
Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-09-26 03:32 pm (UTC)whereas Nicola is desperate for no-one to ever know what her grievances are. It's making me wonder whether the twins are some sort of psychological allegory where when the egg split Lawrie got all the display of emotions for both of them and Nick got all the control. I don't know my Freud. Is that Id and Ego?
Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-09-26 09:56 pm (UTC)I'm not a Freudian either, but I think at a Freudian level, that makes linguistic sense as a description of what drives them.
However, I am not at all happy with the genetics of your idea (because that the genes:characteristics mapping is not that straightforward).
However if you look to systemic thinking, there may be a useful formulation: there is a tendency to balance and/or polarisation in families, groups and couples (and twins). So that the more Lawrie emotes, the less "space" there is for Nicola to do so, so she specialises in not-emoting/control, in order to emphasise their difference and not be subsumed by Lawrie's superior emoting. Conversely and simultaneously, the less emotion Nicola shows, the more Lawrie needs to demonstrate to ensure the world is aware of her (their?) feelings. In terms of allegory, I see it as Ying and Yang rather than Id and Ego.
My hunch is: AF saw it as neither!
Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-09-27 12:48 pm (UTC)Re: Catkin purchase - why?
Date: 2014-10-08 01:27 am (UTC)I always thought the big mistake with Catkin was to make it a birthday/Christmas present. Sometimes you just have to buy one child a big budget item - piano, computer, overseas school trip, whatever, and if you make it a "present" it is unfair. I would have given her token presents. If she is serious about riding she needs a good horse.
Pip