I’ve been reading parts of Tell England by Ernest Raymond, which I suspect I read in college as part of my unofficial research of English Public Schools, but which I saw discussed on mmsa. It’s really quite something, and an edgy portrait of he pre-1914 world of school. Innocent and homoerotic, passionate, sensual. The boys are complicated and the hero-master, Radley, utterly charismatic. He loves the boys, has favorites, and makes hobbies of them, and is very hard with his favorites in the best possible way. He’s rewarded by their devotion. I love this early scene in which he canes Ray (the narrator) and his friend Doe for the first time.
I bent over, resting my hands on my knees. Radley was a cricketer with a big reputation for cutting and driving; and three drives, right in the middle of the cane, convinced me what a first-class hitter he was. At the fourth, an especially resounding one, Penny whistled a soft and prolonged whistle of amazement, and murmured: “Well, that’s a boundary, anyway.” …
When my performance was over, the second victim, Edgar Doe, with the steel calm of a French aristocrat, which he affected under punishment, walked to the spot where I had been operated on. He bent over (again without being told to do so), and only spoiled his proud submission by telegraphing to Radley one uncontrolled look of pathetic appeal like the glance of a faithful dog. Radley, not noticing these unnerving actions, or possibly a little annoyed by them, administered justice severely enough for Doe, proud as he was, to wince slightly at every cut. Then he put his cane away, and issued, as before, his little ration of gentleness.
“You’re two plucky boys,” he said (28).
Later in the dormitory, Doe confides to an astonished Ray:
“Do you know, I really think I like Radley better than anyone else in the world. I simply loved being whacked by him.”
I pulled the clothes off my head that I might see the extraordinary creature that was talking to me. A dim light always burned near our beds, and by it was I able to see that Doe was very red and clearly wishing he had not made his last remark.
Ray’s line of thought carries on:
Doe’s remark, I reflected, was like that of a school-girl who adored her mistress. Perhaps Doe was a girl. After all, I had no certain knowledge that he wasn’t a girl with his hair cut short. I pictured him, then, with his hair, paler than straw, reaching down beneath his shoulders, and with his brown eyes and parted lips wearing a feminine appearance. As I produced this strange figure, I began to feel, somewhere in the region of my waist [ha! ed.] motions of calf-love for the girl Doe that I had created (29).
Extraordinary!
Radley is known as one who “never lets anyone off, especially his pets.” He’s wry. At one point Ray overheards Radley and the school doctor (Chappy) discussing Doe. Chappy admits of Doe:
“I’ve a great liking for him.”
“So have I.”
“Good. Now, what first attracted you – his good looks or his virtues?”
“Neither. His vices” (38).
I love 1) that it’s perfectly acceptable for these men to admit their attraction to these boys without the onerous film of pedophilia over everything; and 2) that he’s attracted to a boy by his vices.
Radley goes famously for the swift alternation of severity and gentleness. He canes without apology, as in the scene where he rapidly changes from confidant to disciplinarian, commanding Ray to follow him to his study after Ray has complained to him about his housemaster unfairly giving him a thousand lines.
There was little change in my countenance when he placed himself opposite me with his cane in his hand.
“You have been very rude to me in speaking defiantly of your house-master. Do you understand?”
There was no alternative but for me to say “Yes, sir.” The answer came huskily. I was annoyed that my voice sounded hoarse.
“Put out your hand.”
I obeyed, stretching out my right hand as far as I could and displaying no perturbation, though I was wondering what it would be like to be caned on the hand. This was one of Radley’s surprises, and he followed it with one of his brutal remarks:
“Put that right hand down. You’ll need it to be in good condition for writing your lines. Put up your left.”
I held out my left hand. The cane sang in the air and whistled on to my open palm. A spasm of pain passed up my arm, my hand closed convulsively, my elbow drooped, and that vast array of tears made a tremendous effort to carry everything before them. But with all the strength at my command I got the better of them. Angry at having closed my hand, I extended the scorching palm again, and, very pale and trembling perceptibly, looked with set features straight at Radley.
He threw the cane away and, sitting on the edge of his table, took hold of the hand that he had struck and drew me towards him.
“Don’t you think, Ray, that you, who can take a licking so pluckily, ought to face bad luck in a less cowardly fashion than you have this afternoon? You’ll meet worse things than lines before you’re ten years older; and, Ray, I want you always to face your fate, whatever it may be, as you faced my cane – teeth set, no wincing.”
It was a stroke of master play. His gentleness, following immediately upon his severity, burst the dam. His words were an “Open Sesame” to the leaky floodgates I had held so tightly closed (45-46).
I also loved the moment when he yanks Ray into his study by the wrist, intending to show him his strength. He’s unflinching. He boldly tells Ray that unless he takes the wrath of his peers and leads them away from their rottenness, that he’ll lose his (Radley’s) esteem.
“Which would you rather have, their contempt or mine?”
“Theirs, sir” (102).
Awesome!
The book itself is an odd sort of hybrid. The first half is all about school, the second about Ray and his companions at Gallipoli (where they perish). So all of this character building in part one stands within the context of the slaughter and waste of the Great War. – Never mind, though. Bring on Radley, I say. *sigh!*
quotes from Tell England: a study in a generation by Ernest Raymondm (re)published by Echo Library 2006. (originally published 1922?). Also on Google books.
(Image at right is it exactly.) This clever device has sands for three minutes (light), four minutes (medium) and five minutes (strong)–tea, of course! But, occupational hazard, it was instantly perverted. I seem to recall it was used more in imagination and intent than in actuality, but M often told me he wanted TL to cane Marky using the tea timer. We like the descriptors printed on the frame: weak, medium, strong. For boys like Marky, it would really have to be strong every time, wouldn’t it?
