The Captive Reader

I read The Demon in the House by Angela Thirkell last weekend while I was off in Victoria and, oh, what bliss to be once again back in Thirkell’s Barsetshire!  I only began reading Thirkell this winter, starting with Wild Strawberries, and then, as you may recall, rather overdid it (in the most delightful way possible, of course) in my excitement over having discovered these wonderful books.  But I am wiser now and know how important it is to pace myself, so I felt it was safe to once again pick up one of Thirkell’s novels and to immerse myself in the many concerns of the good people of Barsetshire.

This novel follows the holiday exploits of Tony Morland (and the accompanying anxieties of his mother).  At thirteen, Tony Morland is, if not quite a demon, then at least an exasperating pest.  The spoiled youngest son of novelist Laura Morland, Tony is in no doubt of his own importance in the world (second only, it seems, to God) and is more than happy to share his considerable knowledge on any and every subject with others by means of lengthy, condescending monologues.  He is a careless but good-natured tyrant who views all other beings as subservient to himself and, like so many others, I could not adore him more.

When I was reading the book, I kept thinking how much younger Tony seemed than thirteen but, then again, he can really seem any age between about five and fifty depending on the situation.  Tony is an original, not to be as quickly labeled as his boringly predictable peers, who certainly do act younger than their stated ages.  The only exception is perhaps ‘Donk’, Tony’s all but silent school friend, whose uncommunicative ways seem very much like those of the average adolescent male. 

But poor Laura!  Having weathered the childhoods of her three elder, unexceptional sons, she is now able to devote all her energies to imaging disastrous outcomes to Tony’s many exploits.  Oh the bravery required for motherhood!  When Tony acquires a friend’s bicycle during the first episode of the novel, his determination to reach top speeds with it has Laura spinning fatalistic fantasies:

Quite unimpressed by his repeated assertions that he could go twice as fast as Mrs Gould’s car, she packed him off ahead of the Vicarage party.  She felt that it would be happier for her on the whole to anticipate discovering his mangled corpse by the road than to imagine the corpse on the road behind her, while the distance between them increased rapidly.

Laura’s apprehension over her son’s future (or lack thereof) stands in contrast to the attitudes of every other adult he comes into contact with.  Despite my love for Tony, I silently cheered each time Dr. Ford callously insulted him (‘shut up’ being his most usual way of opening a conversation with the young egoist) or when more polite adults, like Adrian Coates, Laura’s publisher, made (usually unvoiced) observations on that young man’s ability to terrorize all those he came into contact with:

‘Adrian, you were at a public school,’ continued Laura, as if this were a rare and difficult feat.  ‘Do you think Tony will be miserable and have his spirit broken?  I know I’m very silly, but I can’t help thinking about it at night.  He is really more understanding and sensitive than you would think, and it would be so awful to think of him being cowed.’

Adrian was just going to assure Laura, as kindly as possible, that it was, on the whole, Tony’s masters and schoolfellows who were to be pitied, when the resonant voice of the sensitive child was heard to address the table…

‘Mr Knox,’ it said, overcrowing all other conversation, ‘did you notice that we are thirteen people at tea after all?…I bet if anyone is superstitious they are feeling jolly uncomfortable now.  I wonder which of us will die first, don’t you, sir?’

‘I should think you would, Tony, if your friends’ wishes could do anything in the matter,’ said Dr. Ford, who had come quietly in.

There is the usual dash of romance about, budding between the only two characters who feel no lack of enthusiasm when it comes to insulting Tony to his face, but the focus here really is on Tony as he terrorizes Barsetshire on his holidays.  What makes Tony so appealing is his relentless good nature.  Even as Dr. Ford is insulting him, Tony remains characteristically cheerful and optimistic, confident that the world and all its citizens exist to entertain and be entertained (and educated) by one Anthony Morland.  Yes, he’s awful and would drive any reasonable person mad but, as long as his is contained within novels, I find it quite easy to adore him.