If you haven't done so already, you should certainly find the time to treat yourself to a viewing of the 1981 television series version of Waugh's Brideshead Revisited. This production is brilliantly directed by Charles Sturridge, and features a cast that is a veritable "who's who" of acclaimed English actors (Laurence Olivier, John Gielgud, Claire Bloom, Jeremy Irons, etc.).
Consisting of eleven one-hour "episodes," Sturridge's Brideshead Revisited does what no "traditional" two-hour film version could do. It creates an actual visual translation of Waugh's enchanting novel. Bits of the book's delightful prose are spoken in voiceover by Jeremy Irons, an actor whose voice seems to be drenched in hot fudge and sprinkled with pixie dust.
I'm also favorably impressed with the vast quantity of research that seems to have been accomplished for this production. For example,Nikolas Grace, the actor who portrays the stuttering aesthete, Anthony Blanche, looks amazingly like Brian Howard, Waugh's friend who probably served as a model for the Blanche character.
Read the novel first, of course, but then consider the fact that the Brideshead Revisited television series is available on DVD. Netflix it, buy it, or borrow it. I would loan you mine, but I'm tired of lending this beautiful thing to "friends" who return it too quickly, complaining that it is "just too long, wordy, and boring." Grrrr. You know, people are mostly delightful, and I generally love them, but sometimes they should be beaten with blunt objects. Cocoa-blankie-bunnyhugs!!!
38 comments:
Blanche is a fascinating character. What always amazes me about Waugh is how he uses the most unlikely characters, such as the homosexual Blanche, the mistress Cara, the 'thwarted' Cordelia, etc., to offer, at times, the most incisive, even spiritually profound observations.
Nikolas Grace does bear a remarkable resemblance to Brian Howard, something I hadn't noticed before. Grace does a fantastic job of acting, IMHO in the Brideshead film production.
Brideshead is great, as is the TV adaptation, but I've always thought of the Sword of Honor trilogy as the definitive Waugh.
Blanche is a fascinating character. ...to offer, at times, the most incisive, even spiritually profound observations.
I see Blanche as a different kind of sinner than the rest of them, more hard-hearted and reveling in his sinfulness. He functions almost as Charles's tempter, dissuading him from the "gruesome" Marchmain family. I think this comes through especially when they meet again toward the end of the novel, and Blanche says "let us not spoil their innocent pleasure," as opposed perhaps to his own pleasures, which are not just weaknesses (as with Sebastian, for example) or blindness, but deliberate depravity. He also tells Charles, "[All these years] I've been watching you." Blanche has his own "twitch upon the thread" trying to lead Charles away from the Marchmains, because he knows that will lead to an encounter with grace. And he is proven true, saying to Charles, "I was right years ago...when I warned you...of the charm. ...it has killed you."
I was thrilled to hear from a friend today that you had begun this conversation. About 3 weeks ago I watched the series over about 3 days. I deprived myself of much sleep to achieve this, but I was truly hooked. I then went back and read the book. Yes, always read the book first, I know.
I am wondering if you are thinking of starting a series of posts on BR. I have these nagging thoughts on Lady Marchmain, but I will hold them for now.
The opening of the story really threw me off with its obvious homosexual references and ambiguities. But, I have come to see these, with the exception of Blanche, as a kind of portrayal of immaturity.
Blanche sees wickedness and revels in it. Yes, he did warn Charles of the Marchmain charm and the deadliness of it, but he has nothing better to offer. His own debauchery has rendered him every bit the twisted image that the Marchmains present, perhaps even more hideously. How fascinating that he too is a Catholic. He and Clare are the only ones for whom there is no "rest of the story." We do not see how that twitch upon the thread will come for them, but certainly it will for they are believers no matter how poor.
A friend of mine said that if you don't cry at the book's climax, you have a heart of stone. I didn't tear up, but that wasn't not Waugh's fault.
Grace is awesome, ja vol!
You are correct, sir! The Sword of Honour Trilogy stands as his Magnum Opus, bien sur!
Jason, yes, I think that Blanche represents the classic hedonistic aesthete. He's kind of a "super sinner," derived from the Huysmans/Wilde model. And, it's interesting to note that this particular sort of foppish devil seems to be tied to only a certain period of history. When "Blanche" essentially appears again in _Put Out More Flags_, this time as Ambrose Silk, he laments that his "type" of person seems to no longer have a place in society. He is no longer seen as subversive or dangerous, just rather silly.
One of the things that I really love about BR is the fact that nearly every character offers at least a little bit of truth from whatever angle/worldview that particular character happens to be coming from: Cara, Cordelia, Bridey, and, yes, even Anthony Blanche. (Just by the by, Bridey is probably my favorite character. I think he's sweet, funny without meaning to be, and completely bereft of tact. I love him.)
Also, I think that it is fun and interesting to consider what might become of a character like Anthony Blanche if his life were extended beyond the novel. So many real-life hedonistic aesthetes (even Huysmans and possibly Wilde) came "full circle," and actually became committed Catholics, seemingly because once one hits a certain level of debauchery, there is no where to go but "up."
fr. j., I too have nagging thoughts about Lady Marchmain. I wonder if they are similar to yours. Of all of the characters in BR, I find her to be the most frustrating to grapple with. Please, let me know what you think of her.
Also, I'm referring you to the comment that I left for Jason because I think some of what I said is relevent to your comment as well. Thank you for reading my blog!
Kyle, I didn't cry at the end of BR either, and I coined the term, "cocoa-blankie-bunny hugs." I have a heart of pudding.
My own lack of tears might have something to do with the fact that the novel ends with Charles Ryder, and I don't like him. He is my least favorite character in the book.
I came closer to tearing up at the end of The Sword of Honour Trilogy, and _The Loved One_ made me cry . . . With laughter.
every character offers at least a little bit of truth from whatever angle/worldview that particular character happens to be coming from: Cara, Cordelia, Bridey, and, yes, even Anthony Blanche. (Just by the by, Bridey is probably my favorite character.
And even among the Catholics, Waugh gets across the subtle differences as well. One of my favorite parts of the novel is when Bridey is explaining something to Charles, and Charles says that Bridey "further subdivides the propositions." It makes me laugh because a lot Catholics resemble that scholastic mindset. And there are Catholics who would resemble the pious Cordelia, the faithful Lady Marchmain, etc. Waugh writes as someone who clearly understands Catholics, the good and the bad and the quirky.
-Waugh writes as someone who clearly understands Catholics, the good and the bad and the quirky.-
Someone asked Wauch about his Catholicism. It was something along the lines of "of what value is your faith if you are such an awful person?" (nice question. But, I guess, Waugh could be unpleasant).
Waugh's reply was great. He pointed out how much more awful he would have been if he had not been catholic!
I agree that Swords of Honour would make an excellent topic for discussion.
Father j wrote:
The opening of the story really threw me off with its obvious homosexual references and ambiguities. But, I have come to see these, with the exception of Blanche, as a kind of portrayal of immaturity.
My wife made the same statement when we recently watched BR on DVD. But I explained to her that no where in the book or movie did I ever see anything that implied a homosexual relationship between Charles and Sebastian, and although Sebastian was, Charles was not, but was simply in love with him in a platonic way. I believe the "Gay Rights Movement" has made everyone view things in a different light, and the 21st century mind automatically assumes "two men in love" means a sexual relationship. The type of "love" between Charles and Sebastian (and Frodo and Sam for another example) was the love of "brothers" and "chums", which society today no longer permits without reading more into it than is intended. A further loss of innocence as a society.
Anyway, watch the first few episodes again and try and see if you can find anything specific to support a homosexual relationship between Charles and Sebastian and I wager you can not.
Blessings.
Brian Howard's mannerisms helped to furnish those of Waugh's Anthony Blanche, but Blanche's character and life history were more closely modelled on those of his good friend Harold Acton. Acton was also a Catholic, while Howard was fiercely anti-Catholic. I know that Waugh himself is said to have denied this notion, by the compilers of Wikipedia, but I suspect that W'pedia has it wrong, because I have seen passages in his letters where he said the exact opposite. (Wikipedia gives no attribution for the citation about Acton.) In any case, it is not impossible that Waugh misled people deliberately to protect Acton, or out of mischief.
Templar,
Are you looking for some scene out of a bodice ripper... "I slowly removed my sweater while Sebastian gazed at my rock hard abs?"
While I suppose the question of whether their love was ever consummated is an open one, it is made clear that their love is more than the platonic love of "brothers or chums". Charles refers to their love as the "forerunner" for his love of Julia. Cara refers to the "romantic friendships of the English", a comment that stuns Charles into silence. She goes on to say that she believes such relationships are "... good if they do not go on to long."
Templar, allow me to add to Sean's good observations. First, there is the well known homosexuality commonly practiced in the English school system of the era. It was simply part of the milieu. Also, there were some places in the text that are fairly suggestive without being graphic--also a commonplace in the literature of the English. A couple come to mind: Charles says a prigish voice in his head told him it was seemly not to lunch with Sebastian after receiving all those flowers (flowers??!), but he went anyway because he was looking for love and makes poetic reference to the garden found through a low door on a wall etc. I dont think people talk about friendship that way. Later Charles describes their friendship as doing things "high up on the catalogue of sins." Sure, these are oblique references, but that is the most one would expect the literature of the era.
Also, according to the theories of the era, homosexuality was regarded as something immature, adolescent, which of course describes Sebastian all his life.
Amy,
My question about Lady Marchmain is how to read her character broadly. So many modern readers consider her to be too controlling and manipulative and therefore a negative character. Fr. Longnecker says as much and thinks she is to blame for running her son away.
I dont read her that way. While her rules seem harsh to the unreformed Sebastian, they are always reasonable. Yes, she wants Charles to watch him at school, but what mother wouldn't? She gets angry at Charles and rightly sees that he enables Sebatian's debauchery.
A friend of mine said he thought she was an image of the Church and I think I agree. In several places she asks the simply but profound question "Is this true?" She will not tolerate vice but pursues her son but ultimately honors his freedom to run. She counts on grace to bring him back to God, if not to her. She sets the rythmn of prayer and calls the believers when it is time. And, when Charles visits Sebastian in Casablanca and speaks of Lady Marchmain, Sebastian is silent gazing upon an oleograph of the "Seven Dolors." So, I think of her as somewhere being an image of the Church and the Sorrowful Mother who is, of course, an image of the Church as well.
Curious for anyone's thoughts.
Alias Clio and everyone else. Beware the Wiki--I have seen first hand the deplorable state of that thing and would not ever touch it.
Fr. J,
Thanks for reminding us of Charles' comment about activities "High in the catalog of sins"... Frankly, I'm not sure that BR is much of a story if Charles and Sebastian are just friends.
As for Lady Marchmain... The first time I read the book, I was much more sympathetic to her. In subsequent readings, I've become more aware of her insidious charm.
In the book I believe Lady Marchmain was described as "saintly but not a saint." Perhaps this makes her piety annoying. I think the analogy of her being the Church is a very good one. She is certainly the conscience of Sebastian, and later Charles, which would explain, since the book is from Charles' perspective, why she is often unlikeable.
I'm aware of the probable connection between Harold Acton and Anthony Blanche. It was Harold Acton who actually recited poetry into a megaphone at Oxford. Waugh produced a charming drawing of him doing so, a drawing depicting a figure who looks every bit an "Anthony Blanche type." And, Waugh did in fact deny basing A. B. on H. A., and I do believe that he did so to protect his friend. And, while I will concede that there is some Harold Acton in Anthony Blanche, I still believe that there is a lot of Brian Howard as well.
Templar, while I respect and admire your perspective, it seems difficult to me to deny that Charles and Sebastian do trespass into eros.
Homosexual behavior was quite common among English school boys in Waugh's day. Alec Waugh, Evelyn's brother, rather notoriously delved into the matter in _The Loom of Youth_, the novel that positively scandalized the Waugh family for . . . Well, for forever.
Besides the references that other readers have already pointed out, there's the whole "Kurt affair" to consider . . . further proof of Sebastian's homosexual leanings. (And, if actual, real-life Kurt is reading this, I promise that I didn't tell you to read this book just so that you might be confronted with a weird, lame, and lisping German boy who just happens to share your name!) Anyway, I wonder what the deal is with Waugh putting gay German boys in concentration camps. In _Put Out More Flags, it is a Hans who gets the "Kurt" treatment. Hmmm . . .
I have had a theory about BR for the last few years ever since I watched the Granada production a few years ago. It occured to me that these people were longing for Eden. I later found an article in Crisis Magazine, by Frank Buckley, stating the Fall was one of the main themes of Waugh's stories. What is the twitch on the thread that so many of the characters experience? It is the Cross. Almost every character has to either confront or run from the Cross. Sebastian longs for Eden by holding onto his childhood. His friendship with Charles is the kind of childhood friendship of pleasure that most of us grow out of. Only Sebastian tries to hold onto it. That is why he tries to keep Charles away from his family and all to himself. Such a friendship cannot tolerate any change or maturation of the other. Sebastian's desire to hold onto childhood is indicated by his Teddy bear and his clinging to his nanny. This helps explain his resentment of his mother. She is Eve after the Fall (her divorce). She is a constant reminder that the world is not Eden but is, in fact, Fallen. Julia makes this passage through the Cross after the deathbed conversion of Lord Marchmain (indicated by him making the Sign of the Cross). She realizes that she can't marry Charles. She takes up her cross of loneliness and lost love by rejecting Charles. Charles, too, passes through the Cross with Julia. At the end he comes out of Brideshead after praying in the chapel "unusually cheerful." The house itself indicates this transformation. Its starts out for Charles being Arcadia (Et in Arcadia Ego) a place of perfect beauty and peace. But, at the end, it is the same beautiful house but is now occupied by troops. Charles no longer sees the world as an Eden but a world Fallen yet redeemed. I think Waugh sees this idea as the great drama of our time. The Enlightenment presented Western man with the idea that we could return to Eden on our own. With that illusion shattered in Flanders' Fields could we pass through the cross to the cheerfulness of living in a fallen yet redeemed world as Charles did? Or would we despair of our lost Eden and live in misery as Sebastian did?
I just Net-flixed the series. Episode 1 arrives on Friday!
Sean, Father J and Amy;
The exact quote from the book (and movie) is "high on the catalog of grave sins". Homosexuality is not among the 7 "grave" sins, but the things that we see them engaging in on the screen and in the book (gluttony, sloth, greed) are indeed among those grave sins. For someone like Waugh to use the specific reference of "grave sin" he had to know it did not mean homosexuality.
The best argument in favor of such a relationship between Charles and Sebastian is a mere generality, that such things were common among boys in those situations in that era in England, but that is hardly a strong argument, and one I find hard to accept if you define common as a majority situation.
And Amy, I am not contesting Sebastian's sexuality, only Charles'. He was looking for love, and he found it. (that low door in the wall) But only in today's mind do we automatically equate love and adoration with physical relations. Can anyone claim to have never felt love for someone without wanting to sleep with them? As a Catholic I love deeply people of both sexes, but they do not arouse me sexually, and that seems perfectly normal to me.
The books (and DVDs) offer no concrete evidence that Charles is anything other than a platonic relationship with Sebastian when viewed through the lens of 1945, in my humble opinion.
Blessings to you all.
Templar,
I agree with you that our modern peers often like to view every male relationship in the past as "homoerotic" and that they are often spinning these tales from whole cloth.
However, in the case of Waugh's books, it is a sure deal that we are talking about homosexuality here. It was really a very common thing in University culture. I don't mean in the way people gossip and rumor about possible lavender mafias in the priesthood and so on. I mean, this was something completely out in the open. It wasn't a rumor. I was shocked to learn this. There was even a book published right around WWI that was completely unrestrained in talking about homosexual love on the campuses.
I was shocked, but the fact is that British culture had already gone completely decadent a century or more ago. We tend to think some of these issues (in America anyway) are new, but they were quite open about it already in Europe at the turn of the 20th century.
Fr. Thomas,
I like what you have to say about the cross. I have a similar and related theory--that the salvation of the various characters is worked out penitentially particularly through toil, that is something physical and difficult. We see this with Charles' loveless and demeaning toil for the army, Sebastian's work as a servant first for Kurt then for the monastery, Cordelia's and then Julia's works of mercy for the poor and even in a way, Lord Marchmain's labor to make the sign of the cross, a toil that hastened his death. Might be a stretch but it seems a fitting opposition to the decadent condition of the characters earlier in Brideshead. Even the house, former Eden, has to work, itself cast out of the garden to do the labor of the fallen.
The one who does not have to work in the end is the nanny who virtuous labor all her life is rewarded with rest.
Hi Rob, nice to see you here and everywhere! The first disc should have 4 episodes, I believe. Be prepared to have the absence of disc 2 drive you mad by Monday!
Templar, you make a good point about the grave sins. Homosexual activity is not one of them. Still, it cannot be denied that homosexuality was very common not only at elite universities in Britain but also in the elite boarding schools. It is attested to by many, many authors. If BR is, in part, a musing on Waugh's college days, well there are testimonies that this was part of his life at that stage as well. There is no graphic presentation of the issue, nor would there have been. In the literature of the era a mere suggestion of effeminacy of male characters sufficed to indicate homosexuality. By comparison Waugh's depictions are actually way way over the top! The flowers alone, my friend...
I've long been on the cusp of buying the 1981 series on DVD. The recent airing of "Pride & Prejudice" on PBS is more my type of thing, but your post prompts me to rent Brideshead from the library and see if I like it as well as everyone else seems to.
I find plausible arguments on both sides of the debate as to whether or not the Charles-Sebastian friendship was homosexual in the sexually active sense. I can't help wondering whether the ambiguity, at least in the case of Charles, is autobiographical. It is well known that the 'gay lobby' has long tried to claim Evelyn (along with Alec) Waugh for their own. It is clear, certainly, that an openly homosexual subculture flourished in England during the period. Joseph Pearce's books, The Unmasking of Oscar Wilde and Catholic Converts confirm this much. But although it is clear that Evelyn had many homosexual friends and acquaintances, the evidence is scant that he actually ever had genital sexual relations with someone of the same sex. It is possible, I imagine, that he might have flirted with the idea at one time or another. One or two obscure references in his private journals might suggest something like this, at least to some. The verdict remains shrouded in obscurity. What is beyond doubt, however, is that Evelyn, whatever his youthful flirtations with homoerotic relations, had a robustly heteroxesual orientation throughout his life.
For the record, it is true that the seven "deadly" or "grave" sins do not cite homosexuality as such. It is also true that St. Thomas Aquinas lists sodomy beneath beastiality as the worst of "unnatural vices" (ST, II-II, Q 154, a. 11) and that Saint Pius X, in his 1910 catechism, classified the "sin of impurity against nature" second only to voluntary homicide among the sins that "cry out to Heaven for vengeance."
Thanks, papist.
I would like to retract my earlier certainty about the nature of Charles and Sebastian's relationship(My apologies to Templar), though I still think it likely to have been, at least for a time, sexual.
I hate to base my opinion of a book, even in part, on the video version. However, having watched the first episode of the miniseries, I saw the narration in a slightly different light.
When Charles mentions the "catlog of grave sins", he immediately follows this with a remark about enjoying a pure innocence in the following days, a chance to have a "happy childhood". The proximity of this remark to the "grave sin" remark made it harder for me to think that this was definitely a reference to sexual behavior. It seems more likely, in light of this, that Charles simply had a good time being immature for a while.
That said, there is no question that the spectre of illicit sexual behavior looms large in this book. Anthony Blanche , in the book, was annoying. In the film version, he was revolting.
OK, I have gone completely turncoat now. I watched the second episode of BR, particularly the conversation between Cara and Charles, and agree with Templar that this relationship (between Charles and Sebastian) is not sexual.
Cara refers to it as a "romantic love" that "Latins do not know." And I know exactly what she is talking about, because I grew up gringo and later lived in Latin America.
If you grew up an American male like me, you probably had a close friend or several. You probably had a friend from whom you were inseparable, to whom you were essentially dedicated. When you thought of Friday night, you thought of what you and he were going to do (watch a movie, teepee somebody's house, drive around, etc). And when this friend got a girlfriend and suddenly wanted to spend Friday nights with her, you were probably hurt and jealous. I think this is what Cara means when she says "romantic", because there is a dedication there, a possessiveness. It does not mean, as an amateur psychologist might say, that you wanted to have sex with this friend. It is simply one of those friendships of which Cara speaks.
If you think I am off-base, it is probably because you take these things for granted. Living in Latin culture, from which Cara comes and which Waugh knew well, I can tell you that these friendships do not occur in that culture. At least, not that I have ever seen. Men have friends, of course, but I do not recall seeing this kind of friendship.
An example: as a boy, you might remember thinking girls were "gross" for a long time, and then slowly breaking into the idea that they were okay, even, possibly, good (the jury is still out on that last one). But I never saw that teaching young boys in Latin America. There was never this divide between the sexes. In other words, boys were oriented toward girls right from the start. Boys generally knew how to dance by the time they could walk as well (that certainly helps in meeting girls!). I'm not saying they were "sexualized", but they simply didn't exhibit that "boys club" mentality. Girls were not, at any point, "gross".
And I think that this is why Cara makes note of it. She is simply commenting on the deep friendship that she sees and doesn't understand, because, as she says, "Latins do not know this love". And we know that the book is really one of those tales about friendship and it's ending, so this really makes sense.
Anyway, Waugh probably wants to establish this by putting Blanche in the story. n I believe somebody already mentioned this: that Blanche's friendship with Sebastian is the opposite of Charles'. Sebastian, like many students of his day, probably has walked on both sides of the track with Blanche, but Charles is the white to Blanche's black, the good influence who will ultimately fail to save Sebastian.
I agree with Templar.
Because he truly cared about him, I think Charles allowed Sebastian to love him in any way he chose, anywhere along the way; but I don't believe Charles ..or even Sebastian, for that matter, would've risked this friendship for a 2-night stand.
As for Lady Marchmain, she killed Sebastian long before he died, and he knew it. She knew it, too, but she considered it holy. The rest of his life was just a lingering embarrassment to her--his passive revenge.. or so it seems to me.
I think I may pick up the series at the library again.
Oh, yes, and Oh, my . . . Perhaps there is a possibility that I might be swayed, but . . . Well, I'm just such a "Wildean" at heart. Anyway, yes, do pick up the series again, JustMe. It's well worth the effort, and it's wonderful to see you here. I will be posting more when my daughter's birthday party has been accomplished, and if I survive this huge St. Patrick's Day party that my wonderful friends and I are throwing. And, by the way, there will be a second blog concerning the new book club being initiated by said wonderful friends . . . Our totally awesome Detroit play group! Stay tuned . . .
I just finished the fourth disc in the tele-series. I had completely forgotten about the scene in which Charles joins the right-wing, anti strikers.
I remember being completely shocked by this part of the book. I am used, certainly, to reading about authors' ventures into the Left. And while I am aware of writers who went right (TS Eliot, Pound) these are always topics that are hushed-up, to some extent at least.
I find it interesting that when a writer goes to the extreme side of a spectrum the reactions differ. In Pound's case, he went fascist and was declared insane. Dos Passos became a commie and he was just all right, I guess. :-(
Waugh's was the first example where a writer seemed proud of standing up for order, etc.(though he obviously considered the whole affair to be a little comical as well)
I'm not sure how passionate Charles is about his "stance" against anti-strikers. It seems to me that he rather just boards the first bandwagon that will take him because . . . That's what everyone else is doing. And, you know, this is the thing about Charles that drives me crazy . . . Makes me like him so little (I only like Mr. Samgrass, Rex, and Kurt less . . . I even find Beryl to be slightly more charming.). Mr. Ryder's character is so very, very weak. He seems to get swept along with this tide or that tide. His painting even seems more like a convenient folly than a driving passion (Blanche hints a little at this . . . .).
And, Lady Marchmain . . . Yes, I understand how it is a counterintuitive but "good" thing to appreciate her as representing The Church, I can't help but dislike her vehemently for how little she seems to understand her own children. Granted, I know that her approach to Sebastian--at the time the "problem" is identified--is actually more prudent, though less "kind" than what Charles wants to do, she should have noticed her fragile child much sooner. And, although I understand that parent/child relationships among the British elite at this time were not nearly as cozy as what we modern Americans are used to, it truly seems to me that Lady Marchmain's piety, as admirable as it is, actually takes her away from her children . . . Maybe even turns her a little in on herself. Well, I guess such is the way of Waugh . . . grey areas galore.
Yes, Ryder doesn't get all fired up about anything. One wonders how Julia fell for him. It all makes one thank God for the Cordelias among us. It seems to me that her honest mercy incarnates/freshens the dull/low. Which is to say that of the author himself, tho' he'd likely find that assessment throttle-worthy.
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