Staying on by Paul Scott ~ A coda to The Raj Quartet

[rosemarykaye]

Straude - I'm afraid I don't have much idea - I looked at the Times Archive on-line but you have to subscribe to it to get proper access.

Rosemary

[Frybabe]

I think I am getting ahead. I just finished Chapter 8. What a chapter. Very eventful for the Bhoolabhoys, especially Frank. Will wait for you to catch up.

[straudetwo]

Jonathan,  re your # 116, :
Lucy had envisaged India differently from what it turned out for them, and she really enjoyed only the time when Tusker had the job
in the princely state of Mudpore where they lived in a large bungalow fairly close to the palace and had a their disposal a Mercedes Benz and a liveried chauffeur. She adored Mudpore, which to her was the real India.  And usker, simply and brilliantly, solved the problem his predecessor had caused by underfeeding the elephants, tus avoiding a stampede.

When after the war the majority of the British  army and civilian personnel went Home and Tusker decided to stay on, they never lived long enough in any one place where Lucy could settle down confidently.  Neither of them had family left in England, and both knew that they might have difficulties making ends meet in England even more than they were forced to do in Pankot.  

And when Sarah's letter arrives, Lucy is not  suddenly homesick for England but eager for Mr. Turner's visit whom she plans to show the sights of  Pankot, like St. John's Church, the English cemetery,  and the lovingly restored Rose Cottage, where Lucy and Tusker had lived for too brief a period of time.  It is touching to see how many unresolved issues she still harbors, how many slights she is unable to forget, and what a wonderful experience Mr. Turner's visit will be for her.

BTW, today I remembered that the English author Rumer Godden lived in India as a child and returned as an adult with two chldren. I read her book Two Under the Indian Sun, a memoir of her and her sister's growing up there.

Back tomorrow

[rosemarykaye]

Straude:  I love Rumer Godden - especially her children's books, The Diddakoi and, most of all, the wonderful "Dolls House" with scary Miss Marchpane - I see that one reviewer on Amazon says "the name Marchpane still sends shivers down my spine".  The Greengage Summer is another wonderful book.  Was the memoir good?  Is there a good biography?

Rosemary

[Frybabe]

I looked up Two Under the Indian Sun on Amazon. The reader reviews are quite interesting. The book is now on my list. I do not see it listed for Kindle. http://www.amazon.com/Two-Under-Indian-Sun-Godden/dp/0688074227

[Jonathan]

'It is touching to see how many unresolved issues she still harbors, how many slights she is unable to forget'

Traude, you've hit just the right note by adding 'touching' to that observation. But how could Lucy do that to her husband? Is she not aware she might bring on another heart attack? That's practically an arraignment of poor Tusker in Chapter Seven. Added to some of the things Tusker says about her in Chapter Six, it makes for an interesting matrimonial balance sheet for this long-married couple. Time to point out each others' shortcomings? Some of this is so true to life. Scott must have found the material in his travels. But she is so sure he never hears her, that she's quite surprised to hear him say are you p......?

[PatH]

"Touching" is exactly the right word; even when Scott is showing the couple at their worst, he is fully sympathetic to their feelings and point of view.

In chapters 6 and 7, we are certainly digging down farther into the Smalley marriage.  In 6, we learn of their rather pallid sex life.  I'm not sure if Tusker is satisfied with it, but it's not surprising that Lucy has fantasies.  The Bhoolabhoys do a lot better; they know the use of sex as joy and solace, and she only gets a headache afterwards, not before .

In 7, Lucy really lets loose.  Here we see the worst side of their marriage.  Why does she say these things now?  I guess, the trigger of the letter from Sarah Layton Perrin on top of her frantic feelings of worry about Tusker, and uncertainty about whether she would have anything at all to live on if he died.  All the piled up resentments of their whole life spill out.  We see that she saw perfectly well (Tusker thought she didn't) the attitude of the other wives to her, that her ambitions were greater than Tuskers, and that she felt unfulfilled and marginalized.

I still don't know for sure what they really felt about the marriage.  Is this the extreme worst of all the resentments, coming out now with more power than they really have, or is it the truth?   Even a life and a marriage with disappointments can have an underlay of affection, and we see some of that here.  And looming in the background is the "debacle" which destroyed Lucy's faith in Tusker.  Whatever it is, it could turn our ideas upside down, or, alternatively, be something so trivial that it shouldn't have had the effect it did.

[straudetwo]

Exactly, PatH, the letters were the catalyst,  especially Sarah's answer to Lucy's condolences,  bringing  all at once a spark into the sameness of Lucy's uneventful life, loosening for the first time the tight reins with which she was controlling her emotions so as not to arouse Tusker's volatile temper. Thoughts and memories come to her which had been suppressed. For the first time she fully realizes that Tusker never intended to go home. With growing anger she sees that Tusker's lack of ambition impeded and "labeled" them both.  She had wanted to become a Colonel's lady, but when it finally happened,  it was short and too soon over.  And later she was a box-wallah's wife, a term also used for traveling salesmen and their ware  (more on that termin another post).

In her mind she composes a reply to Sarah (take note of the parenthetical phrases, which  certainly won't be in the written letter), when
Tusker calls her to join him on the verandah. Angry because of the interruption, annoyed by the pettiness of Tusker's new objections to a presumed error in Maybrick's History of Pankot (in which the Pankot Regiment is mentioned in a single paragraph (!).

And she explodes  --  in one long, uninterrupted, accusatory stream of consciousness speech, which stuns Tusker into open-mouthed silence, she breathlessly brings up the resentments and the bitterness accumulated over her decades in India and her fears of being left alone, alone in Pankot, in a foreign country, surrounded by black faces, if he should die before her.  Knowing that Tusker has personal papers he's guarded like a jealous God, she now she demands an accounting on where she stands.

Observation : She too provesherwelf capable of critical remarks of people who 'deserve' it (like Mildred Layton);  her remarks of what she could do with his body when he dies seem hurtful.  When she brings up his lack of support for her interest in amateur dramatics, we see the depth of her disappointment.  Then she says "I'm afraid it was simply another example of the way you have always deprived me, yes, deprived me, of the fullness of my life in order to support and sustain the smallness of your own."  
That may be true, but the words are cruel. What do you think of this outburst ?

[Frybabe]

she says "I'm afraid it was simply another example of the way you have always deprived me, yes, deprived me, of the fullness of my life in order to support and sustain the smallness of your own." 
That may be true, but the words are cruel. What do you think of this outburst ?

Lucy's outburst was way long overdue. Once she got started she couldn't stop herself. Her timing was poor, but if she had tried to confront Tusker earlier in a calmer manner would he have listened to her? Her tirade overwhelmed him so much he was practically speechless for once. 

[Jonathan]

What do you think of this outburst?

It was just one Ha! too many for Lucy.

I'm not sure if I feel sorry for her, and for what reasons exactly, or if I admire her for the wonderful act she puts on. Can there be any doubt that she has rehearsed the tirade many times in her head. It has always been her ambition to bring a hush over the house (the theater).

What a crisis time in their marriage. Lately they have been living separate, self-preoccupying lives, hardly speaking to each other. I like to think there is an unspoken mutual devotion.

[Jonathan]

'angry because of the interruption, annoyed by the pettiness of Tusker's new objections to a presumed error in Maybrick's History of Pankot (in which the Pankot Regiment is mentioned in a single paragraph (!).'

Yes, Traude, that did bring on the outburst. But Lucy does not seem to know what a sore point that Pankot Rifles business was for Tusker. That was THE regiment. The stuck up bloody regiment it was in our day. Thought the sun shone from its collective arse....those Pankot Rifles blokes gave themselves airs...as a Mahwar Regiment chap I didn't begin to rank with them with them at all, of course, not that I minded a bugger. I was never regiment-minded anyway, especially after it was made plain I'd blotted my copybook by marrying at home without the CO's approval. Approval! Great Scott!

So, it's Scott's fault that Tusker never made it into the PR's. HA! Authors are like gods.

[Jonathan]

I believe that Tusker was as ambitious as the next guy. It was kind of him not to make this an issue over the years.

[PatH]

Approval! Great Scott! [/b]

So, it's Scott's fault that Tusker never made it into the PR's. HA! Authors are like gods.

Tee hee, Jonathan.

[PatH]

Lately they have been living separate, self-preoccupying lives, hardly speaking to each other. I like to think there is an unspoken mutual devotion.

I like to think so too, and there is some evidence for it, but I still feel a bit at sea trying to sort out their marriage.

[Jonathan]

'We are people in shadow, Ibrahim.'

Lucy is talking about the shadow cast by the new Shiraz hotel over the Smalley cottage and its lawn and gardens. But, of course the shadow is far more extensive.

The royal wedding in London this morning had reminders of the a bright noonday sun shining on the empire a hundred years ago. One of the carriages was pointed out as having been built for King Edward VII, in 1910. Very opulent. It reminded me of the splendid statue of King Edward here in Queens Park in Toronto. He came to us from New Delhi after Indian independence. His mother is also monumented in the park.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/21088636@N00/2044689823/

How things have changed and not changed. Now its the consortium of moneyed Punjabis developing the neighborhood. What was the East India Company but a cosortium of moneyed Brits developing a sub-continent.

Peopel in shadow. And a husband 'not capable of sustaining shocks, nor capable of surviving while in a constant state of annoyance.' p41. Those are Lucy's words.

[Frybabe]

Very nice statue, Jonathan. It is nicely detailed and looks well kept.

[straudetwo]

Great posts, thank you !
Special thanks, Jonathan, for the link to the statue of Edward VII i Queen's Park in Toronto. Much to answer ...

Frybabe, the confrontation Lucy brought about  and the long list of long accumulated complaints obviously surprised Tusker. But when he found his voice, all he said was "Lucy, you are ...", a relatively "mild" reaction. He sat there stunned but impassive, as if he'd heard some of this before. We've seen that Ibrahim had overheard previous "rows", and wondered about long silences between the Sahib and Memsahib - and those silences sometimes included him.  In his years of service he had been sacked by both Tusker and Lucy, but was always reinstated.

So the big confrontation may have been a repeat performance, as Jonathan suggested, which would explain why Tusker staid where he was to hear her out.  When it was over, Lucy herself is sufficiently composed to get back to return to her writing desk to pick up where she left off. But she is still in a bad mood when Ibrahim approaches and irritated by the sound of the lawn mower. This brings us into the next chapter where we see clearly that underneath the self-effacing demeanor and annoying "little me" references is the steely determination of a survivor. 

Regarding sympathy for Lucy, I have not made up my mind.  The movie  Staying On and Margaret MacMillan's handyWomen of the Raj both came in handy. But we have more ground to cover.

PatH, let me say a few words about our book. I bought my copy in September of 09. We were still engaged in the  discussion of The Raj Quartet and I decided to wait before reading it.  When I finally started, I was totally bogged down by the first two pages, perhaps because I was still too "involved" with the Quartet.  Second time around I became hooked.

The Main Work and the Coda - if I may call them that - are studies in contrast in every context imaginable. But this discussion  is concerned with Staying On only.   At the center of the story are two "survivors" of a past era who missed a connection long ago.  And while the film's scenery is spectacular, it is the book we must rely on to judge the solidity of the Smalley's marriage.

Back later today

[straudetwo]

So what is the reader to think after this confrontation ? We notice tha Lucy keeps her dignity,  she lists her complaints in what must have been an angry,  somewhat higher voice, but at the end of it all, when Tusker replies to some statements she made,  she leaves, no doubt with her head held high, but not dissolving in tears or getting into hysterics. Fortunately, Tusker for his part did not seem upset to the point of apoplexy, which makes the reader think that this has  all happened before, though perhaps not with the same vehemence. 

And Lucy returns  (outwardly calmy?) to her desk to resume her musings - until Ibrahim interrupts.  She's still in a bad mood, even the sound of the lawn mower gets on her nerves.  But apparently she's had a plan all along and is intent on carrying it out. She asks Ibrahim to hail a tonga. 

Chapter Eight is valuable in revealing other aspects of life in Pankot, in 1972 in comparison with the colonial past so far not discussed, namely the status of Eurasians, and Lucy's opinion of them.  There are clear signs that she has never come to terms with the new order but still adheres to the traditional view of British superiority over the racially inferior Indians,  pp. 78-9 and  pg. 93 (Chapter Eight). Note black sheep in reverse.

Happy reading !

All good wishes for Gumtree with affection.



 

[Jonathan]

I'm almost sorry to be leaving Chapter Seven, in which an anxious Lucy makes such a good case for herself, and lets it all hang out. Her musings, her dramatic, distemperate outburst, and her frustration with Tusker are a pity to behold.

...the way you have always deprived me, yes, deprived me, of the fulness of my life in order to support and sustain the smallness of your own.

But it wasn't only the 'obfuscating' Tusker. It was also those awful women who had condescended and taken every nasty little advantage of her as a junior wife who was not in a position - no, not in a poition -  to tell them where they got off but instead, oh yes instead, under an obligation to bear their treatment meekly not just for Tusker's sake but because a hierarchy was a hierarchy and a society without a clear stratification of duties and responsibilities and privileges was no society at all.

Coocoo, Colonel Menektara's wife, and Dulcie, the actress wife of Colonel Thompson,  were both 'bitches' according to Lucy. Even in death, Dulcie triumphs over Lucy. It  is Tusker's cynical memory of Dulcie's big 'knockers' that serve to deprive Lucy of her big scene in Chapter Seven.

Lucy isn't always fair, and doesn't always hear what Tusker is saying. She's distraught about her future, as she sits at her escritoire.

What I must do, she thought, is go out to him now, regardless of the consequences, and say, Tusker, what is to happen to me if you die first?

Doesn't she remember Tusker asking her (and himself), in Chapter Two: What's to happen to you if I drop dead?

Let's go and drop in on the Bhoolabhoys. Now there's an interesting marriage.

[Gumtree]

Traude: Thank You. I truly appreciate your good wishes.
Sorry I am so slow in coming back - I keep trying but by the time I show my face in the Latin class and read a little here and there I'm done for - so hard to concentrate for long.  But, believe me it's really good to be touching base here again.

 As others have noted it is curious that Lucy's outburst is so vehement and so long - one can only assume that some of this has already been said perhaps in the rows noted by Ibrahim. But this time it seems to be so much more, otherwise dear Tusker would be inured to her ranting  rather than flabbergasted by this outburst. His mouth hanging open like a stunned mullet (so to speak).

I think both Lucy and Tusker are two very frightened people. Tusker is not only facing his own mortality but also the knowledge that once he dies he will have failed Lucy insofar as providing for her future - if, as we are told, they are living more or less hand to mouth and apparently with no solid nest egg behind them. Perhaps he realises that he has failed himself as well.

Lucy too, is frightened by the real possibility of losing Tusker which combines with the thought of finding herself alone, in a foreign country and possibly without sufficient funds. Lucy is also facing her own mortality and the realisation that she will live out her life without any meaningful fulfillment. Her love life has been far from ecstatic, her dream of success on the stage has been thwarted by the very one who should have promoted and encouraged it, and even her skills as a stenographer have been denigrated by the officers' ladies.

It's interesting that by their actions toward the junior officers' ladies the more senior ladies show themselves to be not only self seeking but inherently insecure. Lucy was:
not in a position - no, not in a poition -  to tell them where they got off but instead, oh yes instead, under an obligation to bear their treatment meekly not just for Tusker's sake but because a hierarchy was a hierarchy and a society without a clear stratification of duties and responsibilities and privileges was no society at all.

I wonder if that last part holds  true today - not only in regard to the military but in general society. Or have the old rules been largely negated by today's more relaxed approaches to life?

Jonathan It was such a pleasure for me to see the statue of  King Edward VII showcased here even if Toronto got it more or less secondhand.  The sculptor, Sir Bertram MacKennel was a very talented Aussie and there is quite a lot of his work located around Australia - he is also well represented in museum and gallery collections both here and abroad.

[straudetwo]

Thank you for youre posts.

The hierarchy of the British  in India was firmly established. The post of Viceroy was the highest position. Not all of them were equally competent. The day-to-day management of a nation of 300 million Indians was entrusted to the 1,300 or so members of the elite Indian Civil Service whose standards were very high. The top echelons  of the ICS lived in the rarified atmsphere of palaces in Bombay or Calcutta, but the  important field work was handled by young District Officers mature beyond their tender years

The other mainstay of British society was the Army.  Before 1857, the year of the Sepoy Mutiny, most regiments consisted of Indian solders commanded by British officers. After the mutiny the number of wholly British regiments was increased as a precautionary measure. Army life had many rewards for the officers of both armies, which did not extend to enlisted men.  Living in constant fear of another Indian revolt, the soldiers led separate lives in their barracks, fighting  routine, tedium and the Indian climate.

Far below these two groups, the third element of British society in India were he businessmen and merchants. But even those who gained great wealth and influence were disparagingly referred as "box-wallahs", derived from the sample cases of the traveling salesmen.

The British community in India also had its own caste of outsiders who did not fit into the tripartite framework for recognized society,  for example the planters, independent men who worked most of their lives in isolation from their compatriots and single-handedly ruled their large jute, indigo  and tea plantations. Another group were the missionaries mentioned before. Their goal was to bring Christianity, education and medicine to the smallest, mote remote hamlet. Two of them are depicted in the Raj Quartet, Edwina Crane (who took pity on the plain soldiers and had teas for them; the other was Barbie Bachelor whom I've also mentioned before.

And one day the glory end.  Yet Lucy has not forgotten about "Dickie" Mountbatten and Nehru, an "aristocrat". She praises the impeccable manners of the Indian officers, most of them graduates of Sandhurst and Harrow,  she notes. In Chapter Eight she continues her imaginary conversation with Mr. Turner.

Jonathan,  we do not need to rush through the chapters and should take up any point we feel needs clarification or a different interpretation, especially because vital background information is being brought to the fore gradually in stages. And some passages deserve a second look.  Take the first full paragraph on pg. 85.

Lucy says, "I am not concerned what you do with me, if I predecease you. You can sell me to Tata's for soap, I don't care. But what i do with you if you predecease me is entirely my business. I shall probably float you down the Ganges on a raft woven of the paper in which you have all your life buried yourself ..."
 adding (incongruously) "Have you decided what to do about your Birthday Buffet"? Tusker is blustery and finally says "I'll dictate it if your bloody shorthand's still up to it." He is still putting her down, and she resumes her lament as if on cue.

Her anxiety is palpable, and though she may have reproached him before, it was perhaps not tinged with the despair she is feeling now.
Speaking for myself only, a reader also feels dread about what is going to happen and how because Tusker's death was mentioned at the outset and is a foregone conclusion. But the new  epistolary contact Sarah and Mr. Turner's announced visit constitute a positive development, don't they?  Is a reversal of fortune at least for Lucy possible? Or are the momentary favorable circumstances just a retarding moment, one significantcomponents in the drama ?

[PatH]

"I'll dictate it if your bloody shorthand's still up to it."  Lucy's answer is amusing:

"Bugger is not a word Pittman's taught me, but for subtlety of sound and elegance of outline, the Pittman method has never been surpassed."  She goes on to her resentments about being sneered at for this practical skill.

One thing puzzles me: in the USA, Pittman had been superseded by Gregg before the time Lucy would have learned it.  Was this different in England, or does this mark Lucy as even more out of date?  (Now, of course, Gregg is also mostly a dim memory.)

[rosemarykaye]

PatH - Pitman was still very much on the go in London in the 1980s, when I learned to type at their own college!  I have heard of Gregg, but I don't think it ever caught on in the UK - everyone still thinks of Pitman as synonymous with shorthand.

Rosemary

[Gumtree]

Yes, Pitman's was all the go here at least until the 1980's  - I have no idea what they use now, if anything. I've never heard of Gregg - but then I never learned shorthand anyway...

[Jonathan]

He is still putting her down.

But Lucy is asking for it. She has provoked Tusker. Then again, when these two start arguing, it's like the proverbial pot calling the kettle black.

...that paper in which you have all your life buried yourself

...if your bloody shorthand's still up to it

He may be putting her down, but she is threatening to float his remains down the Ganges to get buried in the silt at its mouth.

But first the birthday.

Life in India must seem threatening for everyone, with its incredibly complex society. The English, as rulers, must have been extemely concerned about being submerged in the sea of diverse races, a result of milleniums of invasions. To top it all off, British class is imposed on Indian caste. Endless hierarchies, rankings, privilege and stratification. Take an example: Ibrahim wouldn't cut the grass to save Tusker's life. Ha!

[straudetwo]

Yes, Jonathan . Lucy did provoke him. Moreover - perhaps because of her insecurities and extreme self-effacement - she has developed at least two irritating habits over the years,  e.g. referring to herself as "little me", and mothering Tusker as one would a seven-year old, which made him grumble even more. But in life it's often an accumulation of just such  "little" annoyances that can cause a sudden eruption.

Both at fault, it seems to me. Tusker needles Lucy and uses words he knows she finds offensive;  she sulks, and silence descends on the Lodge - until the next incident.  And Ibrahim watches and waits. Lucy followed Tusker to India and to all his posts and jobs. And while Tusker may have been inconspicuous at work, he was clearly the master, the voice of authority, at home. He made the choices that suited him every single time,  totally disregarding what he knew Lucy would have  loved or preferred.  Still together, dependent on each other, now Tusker in poor health, now an explosive argument, where are they heded ?

On Lucy's mind now is only the inspection of the cemetery in preparation for Mr. Turner's visit.  So far she has carefully guarded the news
from Tusker,  saying whe wants to keep it a secret from Ibrahim and Minnie, wh was the  aya of Susan Layton's baby Teddie and in effect saved his life.   She is not even sharing happy news with Tusker ! How sad.

We know from Chapter Four that Mr. Bhoolaboy is devoted to St. John's C of E  and for years has had the responsibility of organizing the weekly services when the Rector comes from Ranpur. Susy Williams prepares the flowers and plays the piano becaue the old organ is in disrepair and there is no money to fix it.  The church news is surprising,  and for the moment Lucy's (and the reader's) attention is diverted from the anxious question that are looming.

[straudetwo]

Good morning. Let me briefly correct an oversight in last night' post. The visitations at St. John's by the priest in Ranpur are monthlyy, not weekly.

Do you think Chapter Eight  is a turning point ?
Are there parallels in the crises of the two male protagonists ?

Looking forward to your thoughts.

In haste. Thank  you

[Frybabe]

I see several life changing events on the horizon in Chapter 8. The new preacher is inspecting the church with a critical eye to future changes.  Mrs. Bhoolaboy's secretive activities and her little bombshell are disturbing Mr. B. who likes things calm. He wonders where he will be in all this. Lucy has already begun to think about life without Tusker and is beginning to take some small actions with that in mind. Then there is the promise of Mr. Turner's visit. What changes might he bring, if any? And of course, these changes will affect Ibrahim and the mali too.

[Jonathan]

I'm having a lot of difficulty understanding Lucy's mind, as she thinks about her situation. Obviously Mr Turner's impending visit has Lucy quite excited. At last, somebody from home. India is beginning to seem an alien place to her. If Tusker should die, and she feels certain about that, she will be completely on her own. Tusker would seem to be letting her down.

I cannot understand Lucy's feelings about Tusker. She is convinced he cannot even be honest with her. He obfuscates. He is becoming devious. She is shocked by the thought that she can believe nothing that Tusker says. She can no longer believe 'in' Tusker.

Looking at the old photographs she is going to show Mr Turner, she is already rehearsing the commentary:

That's Tusker. He's lost a lot of weight since. And a lot of hair. A lot of everything, including today what I'd call most of what is left of his credibility

She doesn't dwell on the thought, however. Looking at another figure in the photo, she starts fanticising bygone bedroom scenes with lovers lurking in the corners, waiting for Tusker's snores to begin. Reenter the mysterious Toole.

There certainly are many new developments in Chapter Eight. We get to know more of the lecherous, guilt-ridden Mr Bhoolabhoy. I have a feeling we are going to get an outburst from him eventually. There's a great parallel between him and Lucy.

I have to keep thinking of what Ibrahim found himself thinking occasionally. Are these two losing their marbles? He had it, not knowing the time of day, I believe.

[straudetwo]

Lucy may have seemed calm after the dreadful argument with Tusker, perhaps the most devastating ever - because it rehashed not only the old reproaches about the past and decisions that can no longer be changed -  but included questions about the future, the financial future to be precise, which had never before been mentioned in such naked terms.

Back at her desk,  she returns to her imaginary conversation with Mr. Turner and bears her soul
"  ... because really Tusker has not a good word to say nowadays about anything connected with the past, and this sometimes makes me feel, Mr. Turner, that my whole life has been a lie, mere playacting, and I am not at all sure, Mr. Turner, if when you turn up and turn out to be self-reliant and young and buoyant and English and light-hearted and enthusiastic about your researches but look as if you will go home  laughing at us like a drain that I shall be able to stand you, even though I yearn for you because simply by being here in this house you will be the catalyst I need to bring me back into my own white skin skin which day by day, week by week,  month to month, year by year I have felt increasingly incapable of containing me ..." (see bottom part of pg. 91 and first few lines on pg. 92).
Another long uninterrupted cry of helpless despair.

Interesting characters, the priest in Ranpur to be promoted to bishop; Father Sebastian "advancing" the cause of Christianity in India. but not the Roman church. The expansion of commerce and building is remarkable, but corruption is being talked about, and the unscrupulous Mrs. B. has jut delivered the coup de grace to her good-natured, weak husband.

Back tomorrow.

[straudetwo]

After typing my last post I kept thinking about the two Indian priests and hoe perfectly they had taken things into their hands. And not only regarding the matters that had to do with the monthly service call, if I may call it that. Over time the resident priest in Ranpur had become chummy with the influential people in Pankot,  played golf with them, even changed the schedule for communion as it suited him and his extracurricular, non-church-related activities. From them he must have heard about the development near the airport in Nansera. Is it possible that there was something in it for him? He seemed quite concerned how Joseph had been paid for his work on the grass and the graves. We do not learn who or what actions had put him on the fast track to becoming bishop.

Father Sebastian is also an interesting character. Marvelous description of his appearance. Mr. B., ,Suzy and Mr.Thomas, owner of the cinema, are surprised and at first not favorably inclined. But that soon changes. Father Sebastian certainly knows a thing or two about making friends and influencing people. The congregation finds him credible, but is he really genuine ? There's no doubt in Suzy's mind.  The congregation is similarly captivated.

I've wondered why Scott goes to such lengths here in what is essentially secondary to the main story line. Then again, his aim may not have been to describe solely the lives of Lucy and Tuser Smalley, but to show how independent India had carried on, on its own, for better or worse, and what had been accomplished in twenty-five years by the Indian characters of the story.

[Jonathan]

Traude, I enjoy reading your thoughts. To answer one of your questions, I would say that Scott's readers back in England would have been very interested to read about the changes in Church matters, the personnel, communion services, hymn singing, etc. Not to mention the Rose Cottage having taken on the look of a Hindu temple. So many had gone out to India to do mission work. Staunch Church of Englanders must have been horrified to read about the creeping Catholicism at St John's. And how the color has changed. The lonely white now feels like a black sheep 'in reverse exposure'. Father Sebastian is certainly likely to bring a new spirit to St John's in Pankot. Perhaps he will get Tusker back into church, but I doubt it. The Reverend Stephen Ambedkar's path to a bishopric in Calcutta was probably smoothed on the golf links.

Lucy finds herself at the church to check out the graves she is going to show her guest from England - Mr Turner. Hasn't she found a wonderful, silent listener in him? Her reflections as she sits on the bench in the lychgate are such a charming picture of the state of her mind. She is reminded of home:

If you close your eyes, Mr Turner, there is no telling where you are....The sound of the sea washing the beach of Juhu, north of Bombay, is the sound of the sea at Worthing or wherever.

She closed her eyes and bent her head. Some distance away the tonga wallah hawked and spat. Crows protested her occupation of the gateway. A wind sprang up, chilled by its journey from a source in the distant mountains, and then was gone, leaving a profound silence, interrupted (she realized)  by the rythmic sound of the coppersmith bird beating out its endless saucepans in the smithy of the great pine-clad hills in which Pankot rested two thousand feet above sea leve.

What a charming way to introduce the 'snick-snick' of Josephs shears as he trims the wild growth around the headstones.

[straudetwo]

Jonathan, there is action now and movement. Billy Boy's confession in church is no doubt genuine, but his fate seems sealed. I wonde whether we are caught up and ready to go from Chapter Eight to Chapter Nine. Suddenly there's a sense of urgency, perhaps dread.

[PatH]

I'm still here--haven't said much because the rest of you are saying it all, but I'm enjoying it.

We have three people plotting for their own advancement.  The Reverend Stephen Ambedkar through his cronyism will soon be a bishop.  Father Sebastian is busily ingratiating himself with the congregation, presumably with the idea of becoming permanent as the Nansera project brings more prosperity to Pankot.  Does he have another agenda with his photographs?  Mrs Bhoolabhoy has been dealing with Mafia types, and has finally, with the aid of her clever purchase of the hotel, become part of the consortium.  I wonder if she is as clever as she thinks she is?  Is she a match for the Mafia types, or will she come to grief?

What a scene when Mr. B. realizes what she is up to.  Poor man--suffering a mixture of terror, dismay, and low comedy.

[Jonathan]

Yes, what a scene. Wherever we look. In the Bhoolabhoy's bedroom, or among the tombstones at St John's. Or in the church itself, hearing Mr B crying out his litany of sins. Great drama, everywhere.

Poor man, indeed. How will he ever extricate himself? Well, as we have found out, there is a technique. He does have a lot of problems. And now he is going to be made the instrument of Tusker's fate. Allowing the Smith Hotel to be demolished might be enough to kill the sick Colonel.

But a word of pity for the entrepenurial Mrs B, surrounded as she is by crooks and fools.

You're right, Traude, when you say: 'Suddenly, there's a sense of urgency, perhaps dread.'

And what about Lucy? I was concerned about a sense of gloom descending on the narrative, knowing what we know. But, of course, it's more than Lucy knows. Isn't she a surprise? I can't figure her out, but I do admire her. She's a puzzle.

She's anticipating Mr Turner's visit. Getting excited about it. But she is also nursing her wrath. At least she is still angry with Tusker. And then there is so much self-pity when she thinks about her life. The reader is touched by her display of maternal instincts with young Joseph. Or is there more to this. Certainly it's charming to read her thoughts about flirting with Mr Bhoolabhoy. Not a thought about Tusker. Let him fix his own lunch. She's off to the Club.

[straudetwo]

PatH and Jonathan.
From what we have read, sometimes more than once,  we have gained insights into the psyche of the main characters of this story, and have made observations, even though we still don't have all the clues. From the very ouyset the focus is on the two lonely old people whom time has left behind. Startlingly, the story begins with Tusker's death and thereafter the reel slowly reverses to reveal past.

As more revelations emerge, there is more proof that Lucy and Tusker were both loners. Lucy was by far the more open-minded to the adventure India was going to be for her, or so she thought, while Tusker "pushing thirty" was already well along the path of the most comfortable way to survive with a minimum of effort. He guarded the family finances and purse-strings, he as an indifferent husband and lover, and he stifled her. But she is still possessed of a steely determination, as we've seen in the last chapters. What a tragic waste.  Egocentricity destroyed the potential of two lives.

Although Tusker 'does not find anything good to say abut the British in India', Lucy is still proud of the past, speaks with admiration of "Dickie" Mountbatten and the building of the Indian railroad system, which was indeed a significant achievement. At no time did Lucy, as she tells Mr. Turner, have any doubt about the righteousness of what the British were doing in India abut rather took a dim view of people like Sarah Layton who felt empathy with the Indian nationalists. All the decades since Lucy has held to her convictions -- out of habit, or as a defense mechanism ?

She has not lost her power of observation and is puzzled by Mr. B.'s behavior after they come face to face with each other at the church door.
The readers, of coure, know what she does not, that Mr. B. finally extracted the truth from his wife aboit the sale of Smiths hotel and still confused, deeply humiliated and, as the Germans might say, in Seelennot = i a crisis of the soul.

Lucy's lunch at the club is another chance for more imaginary conversation with Mr. urner and we get a look at the "debacle".

Back tomorrow.

[straudetwo]

Additional thoughts on last night's post.

It occurred to me that, though both loners, Lucy and Tusker had totally different temperaments.  He, "pushing thirty" when they met at the solicitors' office, had learned ow o fend for himself and was already a cynic at heart with the characteristics of a misanthrope.  Lucy on the other handnever lost her childlike curiosity and enjoyed her contacts with the officers' wives. When they met at Tusker's long Home leave, she was twenty-five, the product of a mild-mannered, mostly ineffectual father and a neurotic mother who lived only for the men in the house and, after the twin sons died,  demanded the daughter's support. Of course Lucy carried emotional scars -  who would not? - but very slowly came into her ow once she had left the vicarage.  She may have inherited her mild mannered father's disposition but also a dose of her mother's backbone.
Through thick and thin, despite setbacks and disappointments, she has been the the British memsahib and a good wife  and a credit to Tusker
and is justly admired by Mr. B and Ibrahim and respected in the Indian community.

More later

[Jonathan]

Thanks, Traude, there is much more to Lucy's character and feelings and situation than I had realized. 'Little Me' is really quite a complex personality.

And so is Mr Bhoolabhoy. Thanks, Pat, for pointing out that his state of mind is a 'mixture of terror, dismay, and low comedy.'

The abuse he takes from his wife is finally too much for this kind-hearted man. He's not worth bricking up. He talks back to her - with a commonsense question. And with that Mr B feels a rush of , well, it's like, The iron had entered his soul. Only temporarily he supposed but it had entered. Be my guest, he said to it, stay as long as you like.taking pleasure in listening to the still quiet voice not of his conscience but of his commonsense which his passionate nature and wish for an easy life had kept under restraint ever since his marriage.

So true. What marriage can do to people. Not worth bricking up She says to him. What is that all about?

Like in the old days, perhaps we could brick you up alive when the new building starts, to give place an auspicious start. Not that that would work. Only fine strong handsome Punjabi boys were worth  bricking up. If we bricked you up the whole building would collapse even if we aren't cheated by the man supplying the concrete.

A passionate nature. I believe Lucy sees that part of him and shares that with him. What pleasures can she remember sharing with Tusker. Perhaps those walks in he hills that are mentioned when Ibrahim brushes up her hiking boots.

[straudetwo]

Thank you, Jonathan.
 
It's interesting that Tusker and his best buddy Mr. B. faced an angry wife even though the scenes were vastly different.  Lucy had not said anything that was not true, and Tusker was fully aware of each reproach.

On the other hand, Lila Bhoolabhoy is a ruthless man-eater with a cruel streak and no manners or morals, with a gargantuan appetite for orgies of food and gin, for her thin husband (or so she says) , and most of all for tons of money.  She has used, abused and deceived Mr. B. for years and  ultimately betrayed him by selling the Smith Hotel without informing him. In turn the Mafiosi-type partners are about to cheat her out of the "serious" money she so covets. There is something farcical about the  second scene in Lila's room the Morning After.

I have a dim memory of a period in medieval (?) history when people were said to have been immured in buildings under construction, possibly to assure luck or success for the building.  We do know the cornerstone has been of great importance in ancient history and in the Bible.  I found nothing concrete. Perhaps such "bricking up" is linked to, or confused with (?), the many ways man has tried to torture and kill his enemies  or fellowmen ever more efficiently. There is a folder in Google describing man's inhumanity to man in various eras, under the Inquisition for example. But I had to stop - the information was  simply too gruesome.

More tomorrow

[PatH]

Chapter 9 is short.  We start out in the church with more insight into Bhoolaboy's religious feelings, and the ominous snick-snick of Joseph's shears, feeling like the voice of doom.  He goes out, and is startled by running into Lucy.  There is both contrast and parallelism here.  Both have just had arguments with their spouses, about crucially important issues.  The issues are very different, but make each of them particularly startled to see the other.  A slight degree of mutual attraction embarrasses them further.

The situation is defused by being sidetracked to Joseph, somewhat simple, but very good-hearted, earnest, and devoted to his special skill of gardening and his religious feelings.  The photographer comes, and we wonder once again what Father Joseph's agenda really is.  Bhoolaboy, fearful that Lucy will run into Mrs. B., tries to dissuade her from going to the club, but she goes off.