Readthrough: Run Away Home, Chapters 1-4

[lilliburlero.livejournal.com]

We begin with Ginty being seen off to Keswick: it's a characteristic detail, I think (and one that makes me sympathetic to Ann, who gets rather a raw deal in this book) that Ann minds that Ginty doesn't wave goodbye, where Nick and Lawrie hardly notice and couldn't care less.

Nicola plotting how to deal with the coughing-bear dress rings very true to such adolescent predicaments to me, but Lawrie's whingeing seems a trifle overdone, even to strike a foreshadow of a disrupted Christmas.

And, our first sight of Edward! I think one of the things this book--Forest's patchiest to my mind--does very well is characterise this troubled, really pretty unloveable character. What motivates Nicola to cover for him, do you think?

Giles Marlow dresses like a knitting pattern. Over two years without a long enough leave to get himself home does seem a bit rough, mind, so let him have his civvies for now. And poor old Geoff: in-universe explanations for why the Service is being quite so exigent? The reference in Chapter 4 to Chas watching Secret Army dates the action to 1977-9.

Geoff's long absence does allow Forest to introduce the discussions about gender roles that arise shortly afterwards. "Wives must", ugh, Giles. (There will be a lot of ugh, Giles in the following.) Lawrie's riposte is too daffy to be very effective, but at least there is a riposte, I suppose.

What do people make of Giles's argument with Ann? On the one hand, I feel Ann is being nobbled rather--what little we hear of her anti-war arguments seem unrealistically feeble, I think, for someone who's grown up in a Services household yet managed to develop pacifist leanings; on the other, Forest contrives to make it sound oddly like Giles has lost his argumentative high ground, even though she's determined to see things from his perspective. He tries to bail out when Ann still feels there's points to be made: 'call it quits'; 'repeating arguments Giles was satisfied he'd demolished' (my italics). There's a note of disapproval in 'bringing religion into it', but from the point of view of a believing Christian of whatever denomination faith is surely relevant to the ethics of war, and has unquestionably historically shaped them? Giles's flippancy feels ugly to me, if it's sufficient to make Ann 'distressed and confused'.

I'll leave discussion of the scuffle with Edward to the comments: there's a nice unmarked look back to Ready Made Family in Nicola's immediate alarm that she's witnessing a kidnapping, where Giles is happier to trust to adults' good faith.




I'm interested in the ways Forest finds to curdle our sympathy with Ann: her concern for a runaway child on a winter night turns within a page to her demonstrably foolish statement that having the law on one's side is the same as being in the right. It seems framed in an unnecessarily binary way: it would be much more satisfying, and somehow more characteristic of Forest, if Ann were to argue, for example, that she didn't like the idea of him going back into institutional care, but surely it's preferable to hypothermia or him being picked up an Uncle Gerry type?

Ann carrying things for Lawrie forms an interesting parallel to Giles's rather insistent gallantry on the point of carrying things and driving people places, too: a man offering to take a burden is a gentleman, but a woman is a drudge. Huh.

This is the first time that Giles has seen Trennels since the summer holidays the family spent there with Jon Before The War: and since Giles's relationship with his cousin was closer than the rest of the siblings', I'm minded to be Nice to Giles and remark that it can't be with unmixed feelings that he does so.

Lawrie turning from her misery to contemplating a trip to Paris for her grandmother's funeral is great, I think: perfectly topped by Nicola's recognition that Mme Orly would appreciate it too.

There's been some discussion of Rowan's advice to Nicola already, but what do people make of it? I recognise with a sense of mild horror the less-than-logical creed with which I was brought up: it never really does any good to talk about anything, because if the relationship is 'genuine' you'll just miraculously understand one another, and if it's not it's not worth bothering with. Interestingly, though, it's shortly followed be the revelation that Rowan and Pam have shared some confidences. This has been your regular scheduled fic prompt.

Pam's mentioning Rowan's lack of a social life suggests guilt about allowing her to take on the farm, perhaps. But the Marlows seem to have been accepted into the milieu of Westbridge and environs, nonetheless, as the invitations indicate.

The barbecue-cum-midnight steeplechase! I once came close to almost writing fic about it, but fell heavily at the fence of not knowing anything about the curious and hazardous-sounding practice of midnight steeplechasing, which I tried to remedy by buying Moyra Charlton's The Midnight Steeplechase. This has been your regular &c.

In the discussion of alternative Christmas Day activities, Ann seems again to be cast as killjoy; though it doesn't seem entirely unreasonable to imagine that Mrs Marlow might be disconcerted if she rings an empty house on Christmas Day (minor but telling revelation that Giles doesn't phone to wish his family a merry Christmas, because apparently, it would mean too much. Ugh, Giles.) And apparently the plan before the picnic idea is mooted was to haul Mrs Bertie in to cook Christmas dinner in the evening, which doesn't seem very bloody noblesse oblige to me. Rowan's rationale for getting Giles to talk Mrs Bertie round touches again on the theme of gender roles.

Giles's encounter with Karen, Edwin and the family: this has been your regular &c.




I think that opening presents on Christmas Eve is positively odd, but then other people's Christmas traditions always are. The mention of Ginty's presents is a foreshadow of her birthday.

Nick and Lawrie's party dresses! (It seems that Mrs Marlow relented from her irritation at the Changear episode and the coughing bear might have been uncontroversial after all. Different people's taboos about second-hand clothing always interest me: 'new second-hand' from strangers was read by Mrs Marlow as 'desperation', but Nick and Lawrie have been wearing fifth-hand clothes all their lives! I had a university tutor who was happy to buy second-hand jackets, shirts and pullovers but recoiled at the thought of second-hand trousers). The dresses are hard to visualise, but I like the notion that they're so completely different.

Giles' bafflement at Doris and the Chest ('positively pelican'--moderately recondite reference for the target market?) amuses me: actually, though I suspect his main function in these chapters is as exposition catch-up device, I wonder if a case could be made for his discombobulation at having missed two action-packed years of family life going some way to explain his peculiar lapses of judgement later on? He does, we learn, have the occasional twinge of guilt at letting Rowan take on the farm, which expresses itself in trying to do Rowan's chores for her; she in turn is irritated by what she perceives (probably rightly) as some pretty have-your-cake-and-eat-it sexism.

The little reminder of Eddi's Service in Nicola daring Rowan to check if the cattle are kneeling is charming.

Any thoughts on Ann choosing to remain behind?

I quite enjoy the lost in the fog bit. Peter, still with the Mummerzet? My acquaintance from without Britain and Ireland remark with exasperation on precisely the aspect of our signposting that Forest notes, and also on the quaint silliness of English village names, which is gently and effectively sent up here (it's easy to slip into broad parody with Magnas, Parvas and so on, but Forest stays just on the right side, I think).

Lawrie again seems excessively whingey here, though her qualms do a good job of suggesting that madcap spontaneity can just fall awfully flat. Still, a suitable spot is found, and Peter displays his talent for sloping off 'exploring' when there's work to be done.

Could Giles actually be more ghastly than in this after-dinner conversation? UGH, GILES. Rowan's plans to be more proactive come Lady Day seems a good point to mention this fabulous fic by nnozomi. I'm mildly surprised that Rowan's indulgent of the sexist division of labour.

Surfrider is introduced, and I like Nicola's 'sun on the sea when there's no sun', which has a 'from the life' feeling about it.

I'll leave discussion of the Oeschlis' story mostly to the comments. Though all parties have behaved badly, Felix seems to get off very lightly from both the Marlows and their author for kidnapping a baby and communicating with his mother no more often than annually.

Rowan's acerbic 'Do you a power of good to hear the havoc you can cause' brings Peter as teenage father unsettlingly to mind. This has been your regular scheduled &c.

Giles's omelette-making skills again touch the theme of gendered domesticity: the story of the omelette challenge in the dubious bistro is surely worth a short fic?

The notion of getting Edward back to his father is raised at first as desultory hypothetical half-fantasy, and the different range of reactions from the siblings is interesting in terms of characterisation: Nicola's outrage, I can't help feeling, stems (slightly obscurely) from being closest of all the family to Chas and Rose, also children who've been scarred by parental manoeuvrings, though nothing on the Oeschli level. Peter seems to take it least seriously, though it's Giles who makes the most flippant suggestions, and Rowan (at last) raises the possibility of 'real life' trouble if copped. Ann seems just to have a blind faith in authority, which doesn't quite fit with my conception of her character.

The conclusion of the chapter does a great job of suggesting the scratchy tension between all the siblings (Giles and Rowan perhaps excepted: I'm interested in their relationship--fic?). Not a very happy Christmas Day.



A short chapter, but an evocative one. I love 'Provokiev': a bit of a gamble on Kay's part, as a present for a nine year old boy, even a railway nutter, I think, but Chas seems to like it. Chas and Rose having a 'hide-place' seems more significant than just the typical need and liking of children their age for private dens: there is a sense of a kinship of hurt and troubled children in how they relate to Edward too, uncommunicative as the latter is. I'm glad Chas has found a schoolfriend in Barry, though. It's a very Forestian touch, I think, that the plot is set in motion here by imaginative action: a fateful coalescence of a TV drama, the TV news and Chas's own need for escape from a far-from-easy family situation.


Well, I think that will do from me for now. Have at it!

Comments

[buntyandjinx.livejournal.com]

Yup, to me the book fails completely on its premise that - with the usual underlying theme that BOYS ARE BETTER THAN GIRLS - Edward is better with a father than a mother. It doesn't help at all, as pointed out, that Edward is an unlikeable character, though I do understand that's probably clever AF trying to muddy the waters, examining the question of should we help even those we don't much like. I like all the sibling interactions in the book, though there's a bit too much Ugh-Gilesing and, more and more as it goes on, feeling sorry for Ann, but it's definitely not peak Forest.

[antfan.livejournal.com]

Well. It's a very odd set-up, isn't it? Kidnap - inexcusable. But Judith refusing to actually go out to Switzerland - not exactly the most threatening of locations - and at least try to get him back (not saying she should go live there) is odd. It's quite cleverly done in a way, because it is such a moral tangle. I do feel sympathy with the Marlows/Forest that regardless of what happened in that past Edward is the victim, having ended up in "Care". And that he is old enough to have his views taken into account.

[buntyandjinx.livejournal.com]

Am still re-reading, but iirc Judith never appears in person and has a chance to redeem herself in any way.

Judith's redemption

[mheloyse.livejournal.com]

Not going into too much spoiler detail this early in the book, but Judith does appear in person later on - and inspires some sympathy and guilt on Rowan's behalf - which suggests a (belated) attempt at a balanced perspective from AF.

Re: Judith's redemption

[buntyandjinx.livejournal.com]

Ah, I'd completely forgotten! Sorrow, mea culpa.

Re: Judith's redemption

[nzraya.livejournal.com]

Also trying to avoid spoilers, but in order for the guilt/remorse/"maybe there is another side to this story" second-thoughts angle to be effective, it does sort of HAVE to be "belated" -- after the characters have committed to their "first impressions" take on the story and based their actions upon it, and after the reader has been implicated in the above as well.

Re: Judith's redemption

[antfan.livejournal.com]

in order for the guilt/remorse/"maybe there is another side to this story" second-thoughts angle to be effective, it does sort of HAVE to be "belated"

That's a very good point.

I also think, like RMF, the book revolves around a situation that
those characters not directly involved - and therefore the reader - are never going to really understand. On the other hand, whereas in RMF there is a lot of discussion - especially in the bath time chapter - about what Karen's motivations are, whereas in RAH the attempts to understand and discuss the motivations and rights and wrongs of the situation seem a lot more perfunctory.

Re: Judith's redemption

[nzraya.livejournal.com]

Well, you can understand them being a bit more curious about their sister Karen's motivations than those of a complete stranger whom they've already been influenced again by the locals on the train. It's actually rather a nice portrait of the disservice we routinely do to people when we judge them based on second-and reports, or on abstract principles.

[nineveh-uk.livejournal.com]

Nervous breakdown at the baby being kidnapped (it's evident that she spends the first period of Edward's life under tremendous strain)? Also possibly great deal of pressure from her family that if she can't stick living in Switzerland she should just "move on" and it will be a great deal easier to do so if she doesn't have the stigma of being a single mother. Given the time period, she's presumably not been working so if her family won't come up with the cash she might not be able to actually go to Switzerland herself?

[antfan.livejournal.com]

Yes, you are quite right, of course - there might be lots of reasons why Judith, a teenage mum, might find it hard to take action in the 1970s, that I don't really get. Though ten years pass..as she knows where he is, it does sound like she might have been able to get herself out there to see him during that time?

However, I suppose to me the biggest issue raised is what should happen to Edward now, and it seems to me that however wrongly it started (and you can't get worse than kidnap), then if his dad has been the care-giver all his life, and is who he wants to be with, then that does count for something. And what really sways the Marlows to his side is that he shouldn't be in a Home, not that they thought Felix was in the right originally.

(I think Forest is routinely down on mothers in all her books - Giles' chum's wanna-be stockbroker wife being another example, in which a perfectly reasonable position - unhappy with constantly absent partner - is characterised as spoilt and materialistic. But I guess I also feel there are limits to how far the text can be stretched beyond what she gives us.)

[(Anonymous)]

I agree that the decision about where Edward lives as an 11-year-old should be about what's best for Edward, and not about rewarding/punishing either of his parents - both of whom have behaved appallingly at different times, but neither of whom are actually monsters. There is no 'right side' here to pick, unless it's Edward's side.

I think you're being kinder about the Marlows' motives than I was in my earlier post. I'd love to think that they only have Edward's wellbeing as a motive. Last time I read the book, I felt that they got carried away with the romance of 'Doing the Right Thing', combined with a conviction that of course they know the Right Thing when they see it, plus a side order of very one-sided judgment, all applied to an extremely messy situation full of real people. I'll try to be more generous and open-minded this time...

Does it matter what their underlying motives were, if the outcome is a good one for Edward? I think that's one of the interesting questions of the book.

jss

[(Anonymous)]

I don't feel that the Marlows are "Doing the Right Thing" so much as helping Edward. They don't really support Felix so much as Edward's wish to go home. After all, the kid is going to kill himself soon with all this jumping off trains.
Pip

[(Anonymous)]

Not sure what the laws on child custody were in Switzerland in the 70s, but she may not have had any legal right to take him away once he was in Switzerland. Add to that the language barrier, the fact that she has no advocates/supporters there (whereas Felix has his family and social connections), that she's only 16 and probably needs her parents' permission to get a passport, and that her parents actively don't want her to bring the baby home and will refuse to support her if she does. Also, if she's frightened of going 'abroad' that may have been an insurmountable barrier in itself.

[(Anonymous)]

sorry, forgot to sign - jss

Felix's rescue attempts

[mheloyse.livejournal.com]

It seems odd that Felix relied on Edward to keep running away to make contact with him - I'm not sure of his legal position, but his attempts to get Edward back never struck me as either sensible or strenuous.

I suppose he couldn't go back to England himself for fear of being arrested, but was there no one he could send over to offer covert assistance?

Re: Felix's rescue attempts

[oursin.livejournal.com]

I'm now wondering about what 'tug-of-love' cases might have been around in the news at the time - as I recall, these were mostly framed about British women fighting to regain children who had been snatched by fathers from countries which had laws favouring the father.

Kidnapping is a recurrent theme in Forest's books (M&TT, RAH, The Thursday Kidnapping, and arguably Nicholas in The Players's Boy) but this is the only one where it is represented as unequivocally okay - because it's the father?

[oursin.livejournal.com]

Given that the Swiss federal franchise was only extended to women in 1971, I would not be entirely surprised to discover that child custody laws favoured the father (since in the UK they were only altered in the mother's favour in 1926, i.e. after the partial grant of female suffrage and part of a swathe of legislation that can be put down to exactly that), though this may have varied on a cantonal level.

[legionseagle (from livejournal.com)]

So, doing the maths backwards, Judith was being expected to travel to a country which didn't offer her the franchise at the relevant date.

[katlinel.livejournal.com]

And to live in a culture that was not hers, and probably to converse in a language that was not her first language, and without any kind of support network except her husband's family and having just had to deal with the fact that her parents are not the support she may have expected them to be, which is a heck of a lot to deal with as a sixteen-year-old. And all of this is somewhat different to being ensconced on a naval vessel moving about the globe, or embarking on a single-handed voyage round the world, which obviously have their own dangers and difficulties, too, but are not the same.