Autumn Term readthrough: Chapters 11-15

[lilliburlero.livejournal.com]

I find the ideas for the play that Tim instantly rejects interesting. Funnily enough, she seems to have picked up a good few of her ideas about classical mythology from Mrs Todd's pageants: ' "Orpheus and Eurydice," thought Tim [...] "and little Apfelstrudel picking lots of imaginary flowers while her nymphs skip round to unseen music..." ': hardly how I'd describe that rather dark and tragic myth. It's one of those neat little ironies which I think is only available to an audience rather older than the novel's ostensible market, I think.

Twelfth Night is rejected because 'people always did Shakespeare'--again, evidence of a pretty high and strenuous level of culture at Kingscote: I didn't read my first Shakespeare until I was 13, but Tim knows The Comedy of Errors and is on quoting terms with Henry V. Tim decides to act on her aunt's suggestion to make use of the twins' twinnishness, but has she really thought whether the twins can act or not? We've seen hints of Lawrie's ability (though Tim hasn't, really.)

Tim's interaction with Karen and Margaret in the Library again shows her not quite subject to the hierarchies of school life, and able to communicate well with those rather older than herself, foreshadowing a more extended and important conversation with Lois. Karen identifies The Prince and the Pauper with a brisk alacrity that anyone who has ever worked as a bookseller or librarian will appreciate--the entertaining guessing game that is dealing with those enquiries that begin 'I don't know the title or who it's by...'

Tim and Lawrie's discussion in the theatre establishes and cements their friendship. Forest often states that people like Nicola more than Lawrie, but Nicola also gets dumped from friendships that are important to her: by Tim, and then, more devastatingly, by Patrick, arguably and more ambiguously, by Esther. It's something Nick also worried about in her later friendship with Miranda, who, though faithful in her pash on Jan Scott, is ruthless in dropping contemporaries who cease to interest her. Lawrie's unsettling confidence in the play neatly demonstrates both Lawrie's potential as an actor--this is ground on which she feels secure even though she has no demonstrable experience, and at this stage it's Tim who has the scraps of theatre knowledge--but also Lawrie's capacity for admiration of others--here, she seems to have transferred some of her feelings for Lois to her classmate. (Nicola's much more the faithful type, isn't she?) At the close of the chapter, Lawrie and Tim are established as the pair they'll be for the rest of the series.





I enjoy Nicola's capacity to take small, unglamorous jobs like Tidiness Monitor seriously, and her generally naval attitude to keeping the classroom tidy, which doesn't obtain so much in her personal affairs and grooming, though she's tidier, one senses, than Lawrie would be without Ann's indefatigable efforts on her behalf.

Given that the last we saw of Third Remove they were trying to restrain Tim from going to see her Auntie, they acquiesce quite meekly in her plans: Tim is a Bossy Type, and no delegator, though I love commentary on her uncertainty over whether she can write the play and how unsettled she is by people's total confidence in her.

In her confrontation with Tim Pomona does I think seem spoiled and entitled, though no more so, necessarily, than Tim herself: and perhaps justifiably indignant at Tim and the Marlows dominating everyone again. Another underworld myth reference there, with her saying she's going to be Persephone in her mother's next pageant: I am positively avid for fic describing Mrs Todd's saccharine (?) take on some fairly disturbing mythological material.

Tim and Nicola's quarrel, for all its juvenile setting, escalates in a satisfyingly adult manner. Is Nicola motivated merely by concern for the tidiness of the form-room in wiping the picture off the board, or has she become unsettled by the bullying of Pomona? Tim cannot conceive that Nicola might indeed have become interested in the job of Tidiness Monitor as if not 'an abstract desire for perfect order', then as the satisfaction of a job properly done, and sees merely more Marlow pot-hunting. We're told that 'on the infrequent occasions when she lost her temper [Tim] surprised herself by the things she found to say' though to me, Tim's capable of very conscious spite. Still, the feeling of saying something the cruelty of which one realises only when it is articulated is probably familiar to most people, a sort of esprit de l'escalier in reverse. Nicola's riposte is painfully feeble compared to Tim's scalpel-sharp evisceration; demonstrating Nicola's essential goodness of heart, I suppose, but I can't help enjoying Tim's sharkish instinct for blood.

Finally: 'People ought to keep these things to themselves, very secret and private, so that outside people shouldn't be able to lean across and say "What's up [...]" in those silly nudging kind of voices people used when something happened that mattered a good deal to one person and was only something to be gossiped over by the others.' One of those Forest Manifesto for the Suppression of Feelings Moments.





The chapter opens with Nicola in full stolid stoic mode. I like the little contrast with the Lower Fifths discussing Paradise Lost and worrying about their essays; all school stories seem to have a way of indicating That Difficult Age: and Forest's is pegged firmly to Lower Fifth. But Ann is not among the Milton enthusiasts--I would have thought Ann might enjoy the theological side of it in any case...

Rowan's assessment of Giles is merciless, and perhaps better than his commanding officer's: contrast 'brilliant and responsible' with 'the continued existence of his ship and of the Royal Navy depend on Giles being an efficient little officer. You know how solemn Giles gets about his ship.' The lazily, even charmingly arrogant big brother of Chapter 9 is now revealed as perhaps rather an anxious person in his professional life. But even Rowan seems to be nodding here: you'd think someone as sharp as she might guess what Nicola was plotting with her questions about the distance to Port Wade and try to forestall it.

Nicola's fantasy of the afternoon is rather heartbreaking: even at 9, I knew this could bode no good at all.

The description of Port Wade is a nice bit of colour-writing, I think, and the turn from the dockside bustle to dead, flat disappointment beautifully handled in the penultimate paragraph of the chapter. The slowness of Nicola's realisation that she hasn't enough money for her fare home illustrates the immature adhoc-ness of the whole escapade, but I think it's also a marvellous little sketch of an emotion in the process of happening.





Oh dear. It is very difficult for me to be disinterested about Giles Marlow. I shall do my very best, and please forgive any spleen I may indulge in.

The detail that Nicola would almost rather be expelled than pawn her knife, the knife that has already caused so much trouble, is rather glorious. One thing she never thinks of, interestingly, is fare-dodging. Indomitable, true-blue Marlow honesty, I suppose.

Giles I think is revealed as rather immature himself by: 'Giles would loathe having his family around unless he had invited them specially'; rather an adolescent reaction for an officer in his early 20s? Nicola's 'fiercely and instantly taking Giles's part against herself' is painfully true of the psychology of hero worship, but also a sly move on Forest's part which means that, while this is ostensibly Nicola POV, what we are actually getting is Giles POV magnified by Nicola's shame: viz. 'a sister looking disgustingly grubby and practically yowling'. (Can we have a little hoarse shout of appreciation for Forest's use of free indirect style here?) If she really was, then we can perhaps understand some of Giles's embarrassment, but we suspect that she was not: this is Nick's self-hating, humiliated caricature of herself as she looked in Giles's eyes. The shifting POV is similarly adroit in suggesting that 'what Rowan*, disrespectfully, was apt to call Giles's quarterdeck voice' has in it a very large quotient of self-reproach: Giles feels guilty for having provoked Nicola's 'dare-devilry', and rather than take an atom of blame, he mounts his high horse. I think this, though I could not have articulated it at the time, was what made me as a child reader react so furiously against Giles. I still suspect a propensity to blame inferiors out of a sense of guilt at having done something irresponsible does not make for Good Officer Material.

*that she is mentioned here suggests her closeness to Giles--something confirmed in Run Away Home.

I might mention, I suppose, while I'm trying to be fair to Giles, that the description of him 'with his long coat curling from his legs' as he strides ahead of Nicola does rather suggest that young Lieutenant Marlow might be a sight for more pairs of sore eyes than Nick's. That he's undoubtedly one hell of a lash (forgive me, I am susceptible to naval uniform) just makes me dislike him the more, though.

Nick's fear of the dark outdoors is nicely done: and I share her and Lawrie's appreciation of trains at night -- it must have been better still in the age of steam.

Back at school, Lawrie shows herself unexpectedly sharp-witted in having covered for Nick--a fairly rare moment of twinly insight?--and their quarrel is mended with a nice echo of the comment quoted above about 'outside people'.

The telling-off from Cartwright marks the beginning of Pomona's rehabilitation; I'm not sure how plausible I find this--in my experience teacherly intervention in bullying often makes things worse, not better. But Lawrie's grudging denial that what they were doing was bullying: 'Bullying's twisting people's arms and roasting them and things, isn't it?' rings true. Marie's defence of Pomona is interesting: in a more appealing character this would surely be laudable--she stands up against the powerful and popular set in the class who are victimising a girl with much less social clout. But there's little evidence that Forest means us to sympathise with Marie here, though I think we are meant to understand that Tim et al have behaved badly and deserved Cartwright's rebuke.





Lawrie's choice of part--foreshadowed in her appreciation of the female villain in the thriller--illustrates what Forest will develop into quite an off-beat natural talent. (In her difficulties with playing straightforward parts, Lawrie echoes Julian in Mary Renault's novel Return to Night [1947]: I'm fascinated to know if Forest read Renault's early contemporary-set novels as she must have at least one of the later historical ones (The Mask of Apollo is mentioned in The Cricket Term). Does Lawrie remind other people of any other writer's depictions of unusual or eccentric actors? I'm not widely read enough in the period to know if the close similarities I see between Forest and Renault are evidence of Renault's influence on her younger contemporary or just commonly-shared notions.

Pomona's rehabilitation continues--one is glad of this, but there is perhaps a hint of body-shaming rebuke for Pomona in that it is playing Henry VIII that she excels: she was ridiculous as a Bacchante because, perhaps (horror!) she is fat. To be fair to Forest, she does not harp on Pomona's weight as some other writers of the period do about their fat characters, but there is a hint of the idea that fat people must send themselves up to be liked. Pomona does not, however, thank goodness, evolve into a Jolly Fat Person: she develops into someone rather thoughtful, unexpectedly practical, occasionally solemn.



I think that's all I have to say for now. Have at it! Be correctively nice about Giles.

Comments

[highfantastical.livejournal.com]

Tim knows The Comedy of Errors and is on quoting terms with Henry V.

I like the fact that Tim has presumably picked these up on her own, at some point in the Travelling Years: I don't think she's been at Kingscote long enough to have gained her quotable Shakespeare from the school, though I quite agree that the level of all-round culture is pretty high.

has she really thought whether the twins can act or not?

I presume she's counting on their superior competence to the likes of Pomona and Marie, regardless of the activity in question!

her saying she's going to be Persephone in her mother's next pageant

...and good gracious, who on earth casts their twelve-year-old child as Persephone? DISTURBING.

[I am awfully envious of you, reading them at 9. I discovered them via Girlsown and read my first (End of Term) as a teenager, but wish I'd met them as an Actual Child.]

[lilliburlero.livejournal.com]

In The Marlows and the Traitor Nick says that they don't do Shakespeare until Lower Fourth, though The Faerie Queene seems much more challenging to me!

who on earth casts their twelve-year-old child as Persephone? DISTURBING.

Or for that matter, as a Bacchante...the thought of Pomona tearing Pentheus to bits on the hillside is rather too delightful.

I only read Autumn Term and End of Term then, and didn't catch up with any of the others till adulthood. But I was entranced particularly by End of Term (see icon!) and my feelings about Patrick are as illogical as those about Giles, in the opposite direction (though now I quite see what a very--problematic--character he is) because of his quoting of the 'Lyke-Wake Dirge', which I had read in a poetry anthology and adored.

[highfantastical.livejournal.com]

I admit that this discussion has led me to spend some considerable time on Abebooks coveting The Marlows and the Traitor and Run Away Home, the two I don't own! That's very interesting about the Shakespeare; Lower IV is ... thirteen, and I'm surprised they wouldn't have done any at school sooner than that -- in Noel Streatfeild and so on, they certainly do (even at non-stage schools). And yes, TFQ is surely more challenging; I wonder why and how that was taught (...in the temporary fantasy world where Kingscote Is Real), and what, to borrow from modern parlance, the learning objectives were. It's hard to see what they think 'backward' and/or 'stupid' twelve-year-olds would get out of it? How they pack everything in is quite something, starting with TFQ at twelve, Shakespeare and thirteen -- and by eighteen-ish, people like Karen and Jan are certainly presented as having a widespread expertise beyond their own subjects. Of course that's partly a matter of narrative convenience, but I think it all conduces to AF's development of the peculiar texture of Kingscote and (as it were) Marlovia.

I am charmed by the idea of Pomona being a fabulous Bacchante: really getting into her role, unleashing long-held inner angsts, &c....

[nineveh-uk.livejournal.com]

but has she really thought whether the twins can act or not?

It might be one of Miss Keith's more sensible assumptions, that most children that age aren't great actors, the twins probably aren't any worse than their classmates, and their twinnishness will produce something different and striking for the audience in a way that 13 year olds otherwise aren't likely to.

[jackmerlin.livejournal.com]

Presumably Tim has seen some glimmers of talent when they do their miming lessons?

[lilliburlero.livejournal.com]

Oh, god, the miming...I had forgot the miming. It sounds deliciously batty--and ballads, of all things. I write a traditional balladry series on tumblr, and it's a great relief when I don't have to festoon a post with umpteen content warnings. They were made of sterner stuff back in the Since The War period: there's Miranda's memory in CT of an eleven year old Jan Scott and Karen acting out 'The Twa Sisters' (cw: incest, rape, murder, suicide)...

[coughingbear]

I agree that staff tellings off aren't necessarily effective at ending bullying. I think what I find convincing about the process here is that Cartwright can make them give Pomona a bigger part in the play (very Kingscote) and does, but it's really when Pomona turns out to be good that the twins' attitudes, at least, start to change.

I would try to defend Giles but it's difficult! I think you're right that Forest makes clear that be knows he brought this on himself (rather than on Rowan and Karen as he presumably expected, if there were any effects at all) and is therefore extra horrible about it. It's very Marlow that he never apologises but does send the photo of his ship. I know Nicola reads that as him forgiving her but I think it's the other way round.

[lilliburlero.livejournal.com]

Oh, gosh, dim only child that I am, I hadn't thought about the bringing it on Karen (in particular) aspect at all. Giles and Rowan are clearly quite close, I think, but I wonder what his relationship with Karen is like? There's a bit in RAH, isn't there, but that's after Karen's marriage and the cottage unpleasantness and mainly concerned with that. There seems to be a bigger age gap between Giles and Karen than between any of the other siblings, so Giles might have been just old enough to remember and resent Karen's arrival. And he and Karen are, perhaps, more similar than Giles would like to admit in re dept. getting in flaps. (After all, Rowan copes with a far more hazardous and worrying grubby-Nicola situation without getting particularly worked up with her younger sister, though she is sardonic.) I had never thought there might be an element of malice in his suggestion to the twins.

[sprog-63.livejournal.com]

Be correctively nice about Giles.

Here goes ...

I always read Giles in the context of the half term breakfast when Nick leaves in tears and he is the one who goes after her and comforts her in the way which suits her best: dry humour ('scuse pun): " 'You're making me very damp,' said Giles reproachfully, 'and to be truthful, I've seen as much salt water at close quarters as I care about for the moment...' "

Whether or not you would find that comforting, Nicola clearly does. He was the right one to go after her and he manages it well. He knows she worships him (I love the phrase about her Organ of Veneration: I had a friend with a similar organ and older brothers one of whom she worshipped too. This dynamic was there very clearly - he could take the food off her plate and she would feel privileged to share with him). Giles elects to spend the afternoon of his leave with the twins in order for them to tell him about their term without their sisters butting in. He is amused and flattered by them, but also pays them attention: something children in large families love.

After the cinema he knows he's joking (suggesting being bad), Lawrie clearly hasn't a clue and Nicola gets swept along with the idea, polarised by Lawrie's dismissal of it into accepting it unthinkingly. Yes it was daft of him (and possibly a bit unkind re Karen, "At least it will be something new for Kay to think about") but not heinous crime, I suggest.

In Port Wade, I've always assumed he was on duty (but perhaps not, on reflection) ... not a time or situation when a spot of unplanned carers leave would be acceptable. He did OK, not well, but OK.

The picture of the Ship is not an apology (I agree here, he wouldn't apologise because he doesn't think he's in the wrong). I'm not sure it is forgiveness either, but a repair perhaps, without looking into blame and forgiveness: just giving her something which will affirm (or do I mean ensure?) the episode is over, a return to the old relationship. This would be very pleasant for Giles, I accept, but it is also what Nicola yearns for. Is giving her that comfort so bad, even if it is easy for him? As far as he knows she's had a rotten term.

I found the analysis of different POV fascinating, and it almost convinces me, but then I go back to the breakfast. I don't think I read as analytically as that ... yet !

[lilliburlero.livejournal.com]

I've always assumed he was on duty (but perhaps not, on reflection)

Since reading it as an adult, I've always assumed very much not indeed actually, but that is to enter the dark vale of headcanon.

I have family members who do 'apology' very much in the picture-of-the-ship line, so that rings very true to me of a certain sort of reserve which I hold rather dear.

not warming to Giles. NEVER *grin*

[nnozomi.livejournal.com]

I feel very much the way you do about most of these scenes, only you express it better. ;) I too always assumed that Giles at Port Wade was either on duty or on a tightly planned schedule of time off, with no room for younger sisters suddenly appearing. It's also interesting to think that this is really the first time Giles is interacting with either of the twins as independent people, as opposed to small-children-in-bosom-of-family, and he doesn't have a good sense yet of the right pitch for the interaction between twenty-whatever and thirteen (twelve?), which is not quite the same as older brother kindly playing with baby sisters.
(And what I seem to end up doing is getting absorbed in the world of the book as I read, and then chewing it over later for fun with analysis...I can't do both at once, at least not with books I'm this fond of.)

[nnozomi.livejournal.com]

I'm always so relieved when Nicola arrives back from Port Wade--not so much that she's gotten back safely, but that finally all the painful parts (at least as regards Nicola) are over, and from now on I can relax as I read.

I am very interested by the hints you pick out that Rowan and Giles are particularly close; I've been storing up a lot to say on this account come Run Away Home, but I never thought about it here and I think you're spot on.

I'm in two minds about the Forest Manifesto for the Suppression of, etc., at least here. I think I sympathize with Nicola--it's no fun not only dealing with your own unhappiness, but having it avidly observed by a lot of people who are not personally involved and with whom you are not intimate. To be willing to show yourself upset in front of the general public (as opposed to close friends, family etc.) requires, I think, the ability to decide that you are 100% in the right (i.e. the victim, I suppose) and that is rarely a quality of Nicola's (not so sure about the rest of the family, that's a whole 'nother can of worms. Giles possibly; Karen no, except when deciding to get married; Rowan, outwardly often but inwardly not quite so much; Ginty, kind of the opposite; Ann no, except for theological issues; Peter absolutely no way; Lawrie most often yes...? Oh dear, one could get carried away with all this taxonomy).

I love "someone rather thoughtful, unexpectedly practical, occasionally solemn" as a summing up of Pomona, although considering that almost every appearance she makes post-Autumn Term is marked with the word "stolid" I'm not sure "occasionally" is on the money. I've just deleted some rambling about Pomona which would be better off waiting for Cricket Term, but I do like the person she turns into. (Wouldn't anyone like to provide some Pomona fic?)

Anyway, thank you for this fascinating series of discussions; looking forward to each week's posts. Take care.

[occasionalhope.livejournal.com]

Nicola's journey through the terrifying-to-her dark makes an interesting echo/contrast with Marie's earlier surrender to fear.

I think it may be Nicola's personal innate honesty rather than a Marlow one - Lawrie tries fare dodging in an emergency in a later book.

[jackmerlin.livejournal.com]

I'm going to be one of the lone defenders of Giles. ( I think some people base their dislike of him on his character as it is shown in RAH - possibly the weakest book of the series.)
OF COURSE he is furious with Nicola when she turns up at Port Wade. It was a crashingly stupid thing to do. Even as a twelve year old I thought it was stupid of Nicola to go by train to a fairly distant place with no means of getting back, and no-one who knew where she'd gone. Even with a return ticket the certain risk of being expelled was bad enough. Without a return ticket, it was insanely stupid. (Now with a twelve year old daughter of my own I find it horrifyingly stupid.) So any sensible adult would have torn her off a strip, and then some.
It probably hadn't occurred to Giles that Nicola hadn't realised he was joking. It's true he may be worried what his parents will say to him if Nicola gets expelled and they blame him for encouraging her, but I suspect that Geoff Marlow's attitude to that would be that Nicola should make her own decisions about what she does - she's old enough to know what is a sensible thing to do and what isn't.
Perhaps an older person would have softened slightly towards her and cheered her up before sending her home on the train, as Giles should have, but he is still a very young man really. Rowan had told Nicola Giles wouldn't want family around unexpectedly while he was on Navy business, and I don't blame him. I remember at a similar age various members of my family turned up at my place of work and I found it uncomfortable and embarrassing - particularly the presumed assumption that I could just stop work to show them round, and I was in a far less formal environment than the Navy. I don't think Rowan was missing a hint that Nicola was planning something - it wouldn't have occurred to Rowan that Nicola would be that stupid.
One detail in this section I find amusing; that Ginty had broken bounds to get a special sort of rubber band. In 65 years some things haven't changed at all - all the kids in all the schools in my area are currently mad about a special sort of rubber band!

[lilliburlero.livejournal.com]

Of course, I don't think Nicola's actions are reasonable or sensible, even for a twelve year old (I remember being, at that age, very concerned about things like return tickets). But what I think is interesting is that, even from Nicola's adoring point of view, we can see that Giles is in a flap: his anger stems from the social embarrassment of having expectedly met a family member and self-reproach at knowing that he's partially responsible for the situation: i.e. it's all about Giles Marlow, Lieutenant RN. He deals with it OK, but, then, it's not that big a crisis: it's a matter of a small social embarrassment, two shillings and threepence, and a half-hour delay in whatever he was getting up to with his pal, and maybe some worry that she'd got home OK, but given that we next hear from him when he sends her a conciliatory picture of his ship, we can assume he was reasonably sanguine about that: I mean, if I'd seen a 12 year old onto a train alone and knew I couldn't phone to make sure she was OK without getting her into trouble, though in all likelihood she'd be fine, the first thing I would do is write a note to her and
send it by next post, however goddamn angry I was. If you can't cope with that little bit of fuss, I would suggest that the Navy isn't really for you.

I think Forest means a very pointed contrast with Rowan's behaviour after the communication cord incident: she actually is reacting to a situation that could have ended in her sister's death or serious injury, she deals suavely with something that Giles doesn't have to face at all--hostility from a 'superior officer' in the form of Cromwell--she takes Nicola somewhere to calm down and clean up, she makes sure that Nicola is ready to face Keith (i.e. the Captain) and though she's brisk and sardonic, and lets Nick know she's been a fool, she doesn't make her feel crappy or hate herself (and while Nicola idolises Giles above all, she also really, really, looks up to Rowan--Rowan could have torn strips, but she didn't). Rowan is Natural Officer Material. Giles has a lot to learn.

[jackmerlin.livejournal.com]

It could be argued that Nicola learns more from Giles than from Rowan. After the stopping the train incident Nicola has learned nothing -she still acts impulsively without thinking through her actions, - on the hike, and going to port Wade. After all, from her POV what's to learn from stopping the train - she got her knife back, she didn't get hurt and she didn't get her pocket money docked for the few years to pay for the fine. Whereas after Port Wade she seems to be a responsible and sensible girl - often the person who points out to other people the flaws in their plans or tells other people not to be silly about things. So if an officer's role is to train their juniors I think Giles has done better than Rowan.

[sprog-63.livejournal.com]

Yes, yes, yes! You put it all so well. I like the earlier point about Giles finding it hard to switch from duty to family too.

(But not sure training Nicola is Rowan's job, so she is still on her pedestal for me.)

[lilliburlero.livejournal.com]

I tend rather to think that it's cumulative; it's not that Giles's dressing-down is particularly effective in itself, it comes on top of nearly a whole term's worth of disappointments and disasters--it's the last straw that finally gets Nicola to toe the line, and it's because rather good groundwork has been done by Rowan (and probably Ann too, though we don't see it directly) that Nicola starts to get some sense.

[sarahcng1.livejournal.com]

So pleased to find this- I was in the middle of one of those re-reads of AF books that one does from time to time, decided to google her and found this discussion.

I loved the Marlows when I was around the Nicola/Lawrie age in the 70s, so much so that in my own diaries of that time, I sound exactly like them- even though my own life was far from Trennels or Kingscote. I still have all the school books, but would love to re-read Falconer's Lure which I only ever got from the library (about 4 times!). I always wondered what happened after Run away Home- and avidly awaited the sequel that never came- was longing to see Nicola end up with Patrick!

I'll read through this so far and catch you all up eventually, probably by the time you get to "End of Term"! see you in the Minster!.

[lilliburlero.livejournal.com]

Wecome! I hope you enjoy the discussion.

coughingbear and nzraya can help with gaps in your collection of books, if you want to pm either of them.

There is an 'official' continuation written by Sally Heyward and published by Girls Gone By, called Spring Term; perhaps you know about that? My favourite extended future-fic is Term of Duty (http://archiveofourown.org/works/28545/chapters/37863), by ankaret.

[sprog-63.livejournal.com]

A couple of little things to help you warm to Giles ....

He really does spend time with Nicola and Lawrie, and has a good idea of what they like. (Not just the cinema at half term, but also the National Portrait Gallery). Given a 10 year age gap and the fact that he has likely been away from home pretty much all their lives (I am assuming Dartmouth for him too) this surely shows some genuine affection for them?

They each take to Kingscote something he has given them and treat them with care (Nicola has the portrait of Nelson and Lawrie some pencils-which-need sharpening) implying pleasure in the gift. (And I won't hear of pencils as not an exciting gift: most pre-adolescents adore stationary and Lawrie clearly delighted - or she'd have made a "It's not fair" fuss!!)

But I do agree he's horrible to Nicola in Port Wade.

[learnsslowly.livejournal.com]

Having read this bit yet again - I still can't makeup my mind about Giles. He does pay attention to the twins and give them presents that are obviously well chosen, but I was disappointed as a child, as I am now, about his reaction in Port Wade. Possibly not admitting you could be in the wrong is the Marlow family failing? Nicola appears to have escaped it to an extent - but then we see inside her more than any of the others. I think it is one of Antonia Forest's great strengths as a writer that we feel that at some point about each of the characters. If I had a family liking list, like Nicola's, someone would rise and fall nearly every page!

[biskybat.livejournal.com]

I do like the way Nicola develops from a seriously impulsive 12 year old to a character much more thoughtful and sensible by the end of the book. AF's character development is, of course, what marks her out from other school stories but she really is so much better at it than most.

I can't remember how old I was when I started reading school stories but I do remember how so many of the main characters were 14 as if authors couldn't think how the thought processes of anyone younger worked. Fourteen was very old to me then so I was particularly fond of Autumn Term because Nicola and Lawrie were a little closer to me in age. Also Kingscote actually had a First Form. Other school fiction often weirdly started with the youngest pupils going straight into the 'Lower Third' or somesuch.

As others have commented, AF gets the 12 year old mindset very well in the way of it being the last year or so before adolescence kicks in. Third remove are real children - apart perhaps from Tim who really does seem rather too erudite in some ways.

[mainerobin.livejournal.com]

My take on the Giles-Nicola relationship (strictly from the school stories, since that's all i have read) is that her Organ of Veneration becomes the organ through which she sees all things Giles. Being pre-adolescent, she likely has no idea of what his world is actually like, only what he tells her and what she reads in Hornblower. Because she adores him, she is much more likely to be sensitive to any praise he offers her, or any rebuke she receives from him. Because she adores him, she can't make him be imperfect, so she has to blame herself, and create explanations for his behavior.

For him to take her to the cinema(I always liked the line where he asks them "if they stillneeded to hold someone's hand when the hero entered a dark and silent house in order to get shot" but I haven't seen anyone else mention it.) and tea afterward and listen to her tales of the first half of term would have probably been a perfect day for her. Whether or not she took him to be joking at the time when he suggested they be bad, I think it isn't until she is so fed up with school, she just needs some time out. Each of the factors affecting her choice were not in their own enough to send her running away to sea, but (1) after the fight between her, Lawrie, and Tim--and the realization that Lawrie has chosen Tim over her--a new concept entirely, (2) she was making an effort to be good, whether because she was "doing her Marlow thing" or genuinely wanted to experience some form of success that term, or for some other reason--in any case, Lawrie and Tim mock her because of it. (3) Giles letter has just arrived and Rowan has supplied the needed information, and (4) the day is otherwise unoccupied. Take those factors together along with her general frustration about the term thus far, and she inwardly adds (5) besides Giles said it would be a good idea, which is just enough to push her out of her comfort zone, down the school drive, and onto the train. Her fantasies of the day-she-hoped-to-have-one-on-one-with her adored-brother-Giles kept all that anguish, frustration, and foolishness out of her mind until she realized she wouldn't find Giles. He could have treated her much as Rown had, but ince she'd put so much expectation into the day, what actually happened comes out much worse.

I don't have enough information yet to hate Giles.

karen and anne

[(Anonymous)]

i always disliked karen, and found anne slightly annoying, but also sympathised with her because she's not really appreciated for being nice. also in the first book she doesn't seem to be given much personality, other than her niceness. i have just finished reading the first book for the first time, and i really liked the character giles, though i did feel annoyed at him for ruining nicola's day. though i saw it coming, sort of. i did also feel sorry for marie and pamona who seemed to be unfairly bullied. at the start of the book i hated tim for her arrogance and dishonesty but i grew to like her a bit more as the book pregressed. i always liked nicola more than lawrie, lawrie always seemed more girlish, teary, boring, dull... not extremely so, just compared to nicola. i can't wait to read the rest of the series