Wednesday 10/16/24
Just jotting down a few further thoughts about M.R. James' story, "Oh, Whistle, and I'll Come to You, My Lad."
It may be my favorite story to read. I can read it again and again.
James seems like someone who wouldn't get people right. He lived most of his life in academia. He wasn't out in the world. But he understood people out in the world.
My favorite characters in the story are Rogers--the guy at the college who teases Parkins, and who shows up at the end of the story and lends a hand--and the Colonel. The frightened boy is another great character, and that scene on the lawn is another one that I cherish. It plays so true to life.
James really nails it when the Colonel is like, "If anyone gives you any trouble, tell the hotel owner that I told you to speak up," thinking he's been so helpful, and the kid is all dubious. We learn about how both the Colonel is and the kid is. The kid is no dummy, horrorstruck though he may be. But neither is the Colonel--he just may not know what's best to tell a kid, but he thinks he's being helpful. There's nuance here. But it's easy to understand. The reader doesn't have to fight the text.
The story has a brilliant opening. That took some balls to start a story that way. Remember what I said about starting fast? There are all kinds of ways to start fast, though, if you're good enough.
James starts fast with what's tantamount to a character sketch about Parkins, based off of someone's--the actual narrator of the story--observation of him at dinner. We don't start with the action, plot-wise; we start with character-action.
That part where James writes, "...said rude Mr Rogers," is from the point of view of Parkins. We don't think Rogers is rude. The narrator doesn't think he's rude. But you see that subtle shift in point of view? That's what good writing is.
We're told at the end of that opening section that Parkins deserves our respect. I've heard some people express confusion at this idea. What is meant is that he deserves our respect because, right or wrong, he has principles, he tries to act as a person of honor. He's misguided, but not a bad sort at all. Sure, he takes himself a bit too seriously, but he thinks about people's feelings, he wants to help the fellow who asked him to check out that prospective dig site on his--Parkins'--holiday.
So few people have principles. Now, of course, but then, too. Parkins did. The Colonel also does. He's like that lovable uncle you have who is a good guy but maybe he goes on about certain political ideas you with which you don't hold (and may be a bit batty) at dinner. But when you need him, he'll be there, no questions asked.
Do you know how much of a better writer James was than Lovecraft? So much better. Lovecraft knew nothing of people and the warmth of humanness. He couldn't write dialogue. He didn't understand how people interact. Natural human rhythms. James did. And not just people of a certain class or educational background. Whether we're talking professors or manual laborers, James understood people and how they expressed themselves. He understood that not a lot separated them fundamentally.
The professors may talk "better," but what do they like to do in James stories? Talk about golf. Or lawn tennis. Like that part in "The Mezzotint" where James writes about how there was so much for professors to talk about, endless topics, then he cites those two very sports, nothing else. It's not Seneca and Bach and Dickens (Rogers makes a reference to Dickens, though, in "Whistle," as he's ribbing Parkins). James's characters ring true to life. Nothing in Lovecraft does. And that's not because of his prevailing interest in the mythos he was creating. He didn't get people.
Parkins' holiday has a goal: For him to improve at golf. He's going off on a golfing mission. He says that his friends have urged him to do this--practice and improve his game--and you wonder who these friends are. Where are they? They're not at the institution where Parkins works? He has these non-work, presumably non-professor friends? Seems unlikely? Parkins and his separate friend group?
Then again, it's also possible. Parkins has no problem ingratiating himself with the Colonel. He puts himself out there, makes friends.
I like how focused he is, too. There are multiple references to his "game." Parkins got game. Or is trying to get game. And he keeps getting better at golf! Is a fast learner, even. I love these details. They reveal more about the character. He's sort of a fop, with his "golfing costume," about which he's fastidious, putting what we're told--and again, this is from Parkins' point of view--is the finishing touches to it. He's not just throwing on a shirt and trousers. He has an outfit with elements to it. Probably a silly cap worn at a certain angle that Parkins tries to get just right in his mirror.
I've touched on the narration before. The narrator is someone seated at that table in the opening scene, but though Parkins doesn't share most of the details of the story later with anyone--and he certainly doesn't give some blow by blow accounting of what he was thinking about/stressing over in bed and how he tapped the dirt of the whistle out on a piece of paper--the narrator knows all!
Is this a mistake? We'll call it narrative license. You could certainly suggest it's a flaw in the story--or, rather, the story's design--but you don't quibble with that approach as you read the story. The story is just very enjoyable.
Is that a strange remark for a horror or ghost story? I don't think so. It's not the horror aspects that causes me to return to "Whistle" again and again. It's the people aspects, the language, the atmosphere, the humor, the themes, the friendship, the coastal setting, the decency.
Parkins, the Colonel, and Rogers are such different people. Today, anyone who is not the same as someone else can't get along with that other person. People "get along" because they see themselves--their stunted, limited selves--in that other person. Parkins and the Colonel may not have been long-term friends. They're only going to know each other--well, perhaps--for this week or ten days or whatever it ends up being. They're friends for a week. They can do that, it offers something to both of them, so they do do that.
Rogers gives Parkins the business, but he's gentle, all and all. He's needling him. And he stands down at certain points, when he feels like he might actually hurt Parkins' feelings. These men may not think of themselves as friends, but note the narrator's lack of ceremony in describing how Rogers, when he shows up at the inn, near the end of the story, takes part in that long meeting in Parkins' room with Parkins and the Colonel. Actually, no--this isn't so much as described as it is relayed. Reported.
Do you see why that's so efficient? Because it's automatic. No questions asked. He was trusted. He didn't have to be asked twice to help. He wanted to help so he helped. When things were tough, Parkins counted on him. Rogers meets the Colonel. We don't know what they make of each other. James does a smart thing letting this play out offstage. They agree to chuck the whistle into the sea--the Colonel handles that--and to burn the linen from Parkins' spare bed out behind the inn. Conversations like these wouldn't be had--and things like this wouldn't be done--with people who were picking on you for real or whom you really disliked.
James is clear in his writing in "Oh, Whistle, and I'll Come to You, My Lad." He takes real care. Because he's clear and because he's taken this care, he can leave other things out--some of the things we've talked about in this entry. You can fill them in. And it's not hard to do so. There's no guesswork. You simply have to be present and be paying attention.
You could say, "But people don't do that! Let alone when they read! They don't even read!" Okay. But they also usually don't have reason to. That is, the writer doesn't give them one. James does. James has got you taken care of. He's hooked you up. You just have to go and be there. When we fill in parts ourselves, we're more involved. We're a part of the thing. We're counted on, like Rogers is.
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