A Dance to The Music of Time - Volume 11

In Temporary Kings Nick loses his closest friend in The Dance, Hugh Moreland. These men met in their early thirties. Interestingly enough, throughout most of the books their relationship is never really shown as being very strong. Nick never shows the reader how important Moreland is to him until Moreland has died. “That morning was the last I saw Moreland. It was also the last time I had, with anyone, the sort of talk we used to have together,” (276, TK). Mostly, these talks that Nick refers to aren’t present in The Dance. Nick doesn’t reveal to the reader his true emotions and relationship statuses. Perhaps Nick’s life, like his friend, is too important to him to reveal. In fact, the reader is never able to get into Nick’s life. The Dance is not centered on Nick the narrator, because of this fact. This makes The Dance unusual, because it is centered on a character other than the narrator. This character is Kenneth Widmerpool, and he is not a friend. Widmerpool is the only character, besides Nick, that appears in every book of The Dance. Widmerpool is the main character in The Dance. He comes into Nick’s life in many different forms. As a schoolmate in QU, commanding officer in SA, and fellow writer for Fission in TK. Each time Widmerpool reenters Nick’s life something exciting happens. The Dance as a whole is much more exciting with every appearance of Widmerpool. Nick seems to feel that his own life is not interesting enough for him to be the main character in The Dance. This series would drag on and on if Nick told us only about himself. Anyway the reader is shown that Nick does not have a large ego, because he doesn’t focus on himself, but instead on the world around him. By making Widmerpool the focus of The Dance Powell is able to have a very entertaining story that is able to hold the reader’s attention for twelve novels.

Russell Gwinnett and Louis Glober, the two main Americans in Temporary Kings, do not present a very obvious or cohesive model of what it means to be American. Gwinnett is a solitary and awkward yet likeable writer, while Glober is an outgoing, movie director and playboy. At the same time we are confronted with Br. Brightman’s views on the “transatlantic” (19) visitors, serving to only further complicate attempt to categorize them. The two personalities are not quite so different, however, being both simply permutations of the one true American Way.

Gwinnett seems to live a solitary, un-American life. The very first impression that we get of him is that he is a “young American … the only one of his countrymen attending the conference” (19); already he has been identified as different from the average American. Nick goes on about Gwinnett’s personality, stating that “above all there was a sense of loneliness” (21), and describing him as having a “withdrawn, mysterious air, a little uncommon in an American” (48). The atmosphere of Death, one that Gwinnett is repeatedly associated with, is also “not of the American tradition” (49). Perhaps the best characterization of Gwinnett comes from Nick’s repeated, yet unsuccessful, attempts to read what he is thinking. During their dinner together, Gwinnett nods while listening to Stevens “without giving any indication whether or not he agreed” (163). Later, once Pamela arrives, he is described as “absolutely poker-faced” (166), and when he first meets Glober he shows no sign of interest in the meeting, as if “holding his cards up to his chest in a manner, to the popular European view, ‘un-American'” (97). This solitary and reserved attitude earns Gwinnett, in Nick’s eye, the label of someone with whom “everything was within himself” (138), and seems to divide him from his American roots.

Yet Gwinnett is undeniably American. His “thin bone formations … suggested the nationality” and “the movements of the body … also implied American” (20). His name is inextricably linked to the Declaration of Independence through the signature of Button Gwinnett (97). Hidden in Gwinnett’s personality there are also decidedly American aspects. When he first meets Glober he is his usual self, but after a short while he opens up slightly, being “too good an American to persist, after all that, in his earlier, more distant air” (98). He also at times can be quite up front and honest, letting loose on his reservations every so often. When he meets the American couple at dinner he assumes “with his compatriots, a blunt, matter-of-fact, all-purpose air” (162), and in talking with Nick about Dr. Brightman he speaks “in the manner Americans achieve, without self-consciousness or affectation” (156). While Gwinnett is all too often a loner, he does harbor some of the outgoing tendencies that Nick seems to associate with the American Way.

Glober, the other main American, seems to be the “antithesis” (138) of Gwinnett. Rather than an outwardly reserved manner, Glober apparently lives in the exact mold of an American, “nothing in the least forced about [his] friendliness” (97). Glober surrounds himself with people, as “continuous companionship … [is] necessary to Glober all the time” (96), and he seems to “hope for no more than to collect round him as many persons as available” (132). Not at all reserved like Gwinnett, with Glober “what was going on inside remained only there until it could be materially expressed as soon as possible” (138).

Glober appears to be, on the surface, the perfectly amiable, and therefore American, playboy-tycoon. Yet Glober cannot always fill the shoes of the typical American. At Stevens’ party, Glober is described as “still enormously cordial, [but] in a manner that set him at a distance, put a cordon round him, entrenched his position” (234). Even Glober cannot always fulfill the demands of being an “everyday American” without having to draw back a little bit, retreat into his shell ever so slightly.

The two major Americans in the book in one sense seem irreconcilable opposites. Yet as Nick so appropriately describes them, their personalities are really just two “allotropic elements” (99) of the same American Way. Both try to be the outgoing, all around friendly perfect American; neither wholly succeeds. Nick speculates that perhaps they both would have been quite different people were they not out of their environment, and were back “in their own country” (268). Dr. Brightman, however, seems to come closest to the true diagnosis of the American way: “believing all questions have answers, that there is an ideal life against which everyday life can be measured — but measured only in everyday terms, so that the ideal life would be another sort of everyday life.” “It is somewhere at that point” she continues, “that Russell’s difficulties lie” (175). There is no final, all-encompassing true picture of an American, all that is left is a goal to strive for, and a country full of people who will never quite reach it. How does Powell characterize Americans? Maybe that’s one question that doesn’t have a final answer.

Mysticism and the supernatural first appear in the Dance with the introduction of the mysterious Myra Erdleigh in The Acceptance World. More than any other character, Mrs. Erdleigh personifies the supernatural, as it continues to affect, sporadically and surprisingly, the course of the series. In Temporary Kings, Mrs. Erdleigh makes what she herself hints at as being her last appearance, and manages to foresee, if not incite, the ruckus that serves as the climax of that book. Because of her intimate relationship with the supernatural, she is a powerful and exotic character, who provides insight into the important, if sometimes ambiguous or subtle, themes of the Dance, while at the same time augmenting the mystery and depth of Powell’s world.

Mrs. Erdleigh, perhaps like the other “mystics” of the Dance (Trelawney and Scorpio), projects a strange aura of authority and omniscience whenever she appears. It would not be an exaggeration to say that she behaves as if she knows exactly what will come to pass in the future. It would also not be an exaggeration to say that the evidence does not repudiate the existence of such an ability-on the contrary, if anything, it supports the notion that Mrs. Erdleigh possesses fantastic powers of divination. In fact, there is nothing in the book-least of all Nick himself-that suggests that she is anything but extraordinary. This reputation makes her “aura” all the more credible. It is as if she has complete control over every situation, but does not deign to interfere too directly with such worldly matters, perhaps for fear of upsetting some cosmic balance a la Dr. Trelawney. Ultimately, Mrs. Erdleigh offers little more than cryptic predictions and warnings, which can vary from subtle but decipherable (and prescient) riddles to utterly incomprehensible ramblings.

With her appearance in Temporary Kings, we see Mrs. Erdleigh (and her “aura”) at her most dramatic, invoking the full range of her occult powers. After commenting mysteriously on the mobile spirit of Thomas Vaughan, the allegiances of Isobel’s horoscope, and the nature of Trelawney’s “ascension,” she hints that her own death (or achievement of the “Eighth Sphere to which Trismegistus refers”) is not far off (246). Judging from past predictions, the reader can infer from Mrs. Erdleigh’s claim that she “shall leave for the wings … before the drama is played out,” that we are seeing her for the last time, and can probably guess to what “drama” she refers (246). It is later in the evening that Mrs. Erdleigh truly demonstrates her plot-affecting power, in revealing her “omniscience” and in heralding the chaotic demise of Pamela Widmerpool. As Pamela goads Polly Duport and Glober, then turns to disparage her husband, Mrs. Erdleigh emerges from the woodwork and utters a slew of abstract, occult warnings. But the evocation of such phrases as “the abyss,” the “ghostly cataract,” and the “sperm of the world” seems only to further rile up Pamela, and Mrs. Erdleigh melts back into the shadows to observe as Pamela unleashes her destructive tirade.

Throughout the Dance, Mrs Erdleigh’s character changes little – she remains an enigmatic mystic, turning up occasionally and unexpectedly to tell fortunes, disclose information about future meetings, and issue arcane warnings or advice. Her flawless record of predicting the future lends some additional order to the tangled web of lives and events that the Dance can seem to be. At the same time, Mrs. Erdleigh is perhaps the most reason-defying character of the series, more far-fetched, from a rational, real-world point of view, than even the unbelievably obnoxious Pamela. Overall, as a conduit for the supernatural, Mrs. Erdleigh affects the plot and characters of the Dance in a unique, unorthodox, and dramatic way, all the while adding to the intrigue of the world with a touch of otherworldly mystery.

“It was Death she liked,” says Nick, of Pamela, as he witnesses Gwinnett being introduced to the vixen, herself (102). This statement is ironic because, although Pamela may be amused by the deaths of her most unfortunate lovers, we find that Gwinnett is the one who takes real pleasure in Death … especially poor Lady Widmerpool’s.

At first, Nick is quite bothered over whether or not he should introduce Gwinnett to Pamela, but before he has to make that decision, Glober grabs Gwinnett by the arm and drags him over to Pamela and Ada. Nick observes as Gwinnett, “conveying only the merest atom of overt friendliness,” takes the initiative to get to know Pamela. Contrary to what Nick thinks, Pamela accepts Gwinnett’s questions about Trapnel (101). “Something had been achieved between them” (102).

As Gwinnett tries to gain information on Trapnel from Pamela, Nick reflects on how Trapnel has become just another one of Pamela’s “men who had played some part in her life, but were no longer there to do so” (102). He then, of course only in his own mind, brings up the question of whether Gwinnett will be able to offer her death. The irony of this statement is that, by saying “would Gwinnett be able to offer her Death?” Nick means to say that he wonders whether Gwinnett will be added to Pamela’s repertoire of dead lovers. The question Nick poses is a play on words which foreshadows what actually happens; however it arrives in a different sense. Gwinnett and Pamela do meet in Death, but not in his. The strange circumstances of Pamela’s death imply other things about Gwinnett, and his attraction to Death.

The introduction of Gwinnett to Pamela is not purely innocent; although the reader does not witness, directly, the relationship that develops between them, we assume that, as with all of Pamela’s meetings with men, this one turns into an affair. Nick hears from Gwinnett later on in a letter. He says that Gwinnett “remained enigmatic,” commenting on Death, but not specifically on Pamela’s death. It is here that Nick suggests that it is possible that Gwinnett knew that Pamela was dead when he slept with her, and that Gwinnett may have had necrophilia tendencies.

After all, Pamela is not the one who likes Death so much; Gwinnett is, in fact, the one who is stimulated by the death of Pamela. The whole situation is very ironic. Although Nick’s statement at the beginning of Temporary Kings suggests that Pamela will eventually add Gwinnett to her list of dead lovers, she is actually the one added to a list of the deceased. Pamela is deserving of the strange way she dies; she has caused death – maybe not physically, but certainly emotionally – for so many of her lovers – Peter Templer, X. Trapnel, Ferrand-Seneschal – that it is quite appropriate that she die in the arms of someone who loves her not just till, but even past, “Death do us part.”

In the books before Temporary Kings Widmerpool has grown into a powerful character. His business life is at its peak; he is now a Life Peer and is referred to as “Lord Widmerpool,” a term that commands respect. The only real problems he seems to have are those with his marriage. Obviously any marriage with Pamela would be a disaster. Widmerpool seems to be taking her sexual escapades in his stride. However we soon discover that Widmerpool is a spy; not only a political spy but a sexual spy, too. His image changes from that of a highly respectable gentleman to a sneaky voyeur.

On page 110, Pamela accuses him of hiding pornographic material in his desk. “All the same, the subject of this particular picture might catch your attention – for instance remind you of those photographs shut up in the secret drawer of that desk you sometimes forget to lock.” These photographs were of Pamela and Ferrand-Sénéchal in bed, but this isn’t clear at this instance. Pamela just says, “How Léon-Joseph laughed, when I told him.” We later know for sure that these pictures are those of their sexual act when Pamela says on page 261, “He thought I didn’t spot he was watching through the curtain.” During the first incident Widmerpool gets furious and “red in the face.” He starts talking about Dr. Belkin and how important it is that he must find him, either more interested in his political affairs or anxious to change the subject. During the second incident of accusation, Widmerpool is silent. He does not actively protest; only when Pamela mentions his political spying is he pushed over the edge. It is possible he might have struck Pamela, according to Moreland.

We first come to hear of Widmerpool’s political activities from Bagshaw. “He himself could have felt he needed a little of that sort of attention to build up his reputation as an anti-Communist of the extreme Left. Make people think he’s a safe man, because he’s attacked from the Communist end. Pretend he’s an enemy, when he’s really a close friend.” (188). Bagshaw goes on to say that he has been “thinking a lot about Widmerpool because “he’s a very interesting political specimen.” This seems to be a clue for us to watch Widmerpool because something big is going to happen.

We are not disappointed. About thirty pages later Farebrother talks of Widmerpool. “[Widmerpool] had been giving encouragement, too, by passing across little bits of information [about the Russians] himself from time to time. How valuable that information was remains to be seen” (211). It is now pretty obvious that Widmerpool is a spy. Surprisingly he does not get into any trouble for it. On page 246 Stevens provides more details – “It’s been suggested he wrote an indiscreet letter. Realized he’d gone too far, then tried to withdraw…. They asked for more, he stalled – got cold feet – they gave him away to us. ” Widmerpool did not get into any hot water – “Whatever happened, he’s got away with it.” Does Widmerpool have so much power that he can abuse his without anyone else touching him? Or is he just lucky?

Even though Widmerpool does not land himself in trouble, it is obvious that the goings-on have affected him. His sexual spying has been exposed at the Stevenses’ party, and Pamela has died of an overdose in Gwinnett’s hotel room. In the last scene of the book we see him. “His body was thinner, the flesh of his face hanging in sallow pouches. So deeply, so all envelopingly, was he dressed in black, that he looked almost ecclesiastical” (279). He is on his way to the House of Lords. “Fortunately, I was in a position to rebut my accusers … “(280). Widmerpool says he is not involved; however, he is still “unhinged.” However, this could very well be because of the circumstances of his wife’s death. “The squalor of that hotel .” Right now, Widmerpool has nothing going for him, except that he is in no more trouble. He seems almost crazy in the last scene. Where will he go from here?

In Temporary Kings the reader believes that they are getting a glimpse into the final installment of The Dance series in a literary reference by Henry Vaughan to “hearing secret harmonies” (TK 246). In fact, Vaughan, a 16th century poet and alchemist, never wrote the lines that Mrs. Erdliegh claims he did. Powell has made up many authors, paintings, and books throughout the course of the series, but this is a clear reference to an actual author. Ms. Erdliegh says, “Vaughan writes, the liberated soul ascendes, looking at the sunset towards the west wind, and hearing secret harmonies” (TK 246). None of these phrases come up in any of his writings. It seems that Powell has taken a compellation of sources to meld this phrase for the purposes of The Dance, allowing him to use its allusions to perpetuate his theme of melancholy.

It is first important to understand Ms. Erdleigh’s mention of “the Eighth Sphere to which Trigsmegistus refers.” Trigsmegistus is another name for the Greek God Hermes, the son of God. “Hermetic tradition represents a non-Christian lineage of Hellenistic Gnosticism. The central texts of the tradition, the Corpus Hermeticum were lost to the West in classical times” (Gnostic Society). Within the Corpus Hermeticum is The Divine Pymander which brings the reference to secret harmonies and the eighth sphere together.

68. And then being made naked of all the Operations of Harmony, it cometh to the Eighth Nature [or Sphere–the Starry World], having its proper power, and singeth praises to the Father with the things that are, and all they that are present rejoice, and congratulate the coming of it; and being made like to them with whom it converseth, it heareth also the Powers that are above the Eighth Nature, singing Praise to God in a certain voice that is peculiar to them (Essene). It is unclear what “Harmony” as a proper noun is referring to but its correlation with hearing secret harmonies in The Dance is undeniable. The eighth sphere or house to which Hermes refers has the astrological connotation of Pluto’s eighth house which can signify one’s transition into death (My Astrology). Hermes is offering the best way to pass onto beyond this physical life while praising his father, God.

Hillary Spurling, author of Invitation to the Dance, believes that, “this passage appears to be a paraphrase of ideas taken from Trismegistus and interpreted in Mona’s Hieroglyphica by Vaughan’s fellow magician John Dee, 1527-1608; Mrs. Erdleigh’s next image — of the world as “an outdoor theater, in whose wings the Dead with for their cue for return to the stage ” — comes from Vaughan’s Lumen de Lumine (Invitation 256).” John Dee wrote the The Hieroglyphic Monad in 1564 over a twelve days period while in an supposedly mystical state (Esoteric). His work includes pages of symbolic language in which he claims he is writing the voice of God (Esoteric). When looking at a translation of this work it seems unclear where Stripling saw the correlation between Dee’s work and Mrs. Erliegh’s prediction, there are no common phrases or symbols between the two. In Vaughan’s own work published in 1651 London, New Magical Light, he describes the passing of his love in the same way as in The Divine Pymander saying, “her hour of translation was come, and taking – as I thought – our last leave, she passed before my eyes unto the eternal, into the ether of Nature” (Lumen). The ether of Nature is referring the eighth house as described by Hermes.

The symbols are clearly rooted in alchemy and 17th century literature but Mrs. Erdleigh’s wrongly attributes her prophesy to Vaughan. It is unclear why Powell would mislabel such an important reference as the title of his final book. The highly specific allusions make it difficult to believe that “hearing secret harmonies” could be a careless error. Whatever Powell’s true intentions may have been the theme of melancholy is visibly carried on into Temporary Kings through references of alchemy and Hellenistic religions.

Works Cited:

http://www.essene.com/Mysticism/Hermetic.html#anchor83153

http://www.esotericarchives.com/dee/monad.htm

http://www.levity.com/alchemy/lumen.html

http://www.myastrologybook.com/Pluto-in-the-eighth-house-8th-house.htm

Powell, Anthony. Temporary Kings. United States: Library of Congress, 1975.

Spurling, Hilary. Invitation to the Dance. Boston: Little Brown, 1977.

Donald MacLean and Guy Burgess were considered by many the two most prolific Cold War era spies to come out of England, but it was Harold (Kim) Philby who had the most impact of Soviet spying and British counterespionage. Philby and MacLean met at Trinity College, Cambridge and it was here that they both became secret supporters of the Communist Party. Philby had the opportunity to write for The Times at the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War and was able to share his right-wing opinions through this vessel. Francisco Franco was so pleased with the support that he received from Philby in the newspaper that he awarded Philby with the Red Cross of Military Merit. It was Burgess himself who, in 1939, got Philby the opportunity to participate in England’s MI6 program.

Before the end of World War II, Philby was appointed to the head of Section IX, the group in MI6 responsible for monitoring Soviet espionage. This gave him leverage to protect other important spies, including his two friends MacLean and Burgess. In 1949 he became the MI6 liaison officer to Washington D.C. One year later he was considered for Director General of MI6. This required an extensive background check, one that led the current man in charge, Stewart Menzies, the very man who appointed him to the head of Section IX, to believe Philby could be acting as a double agent. He was investigated by MI6, but he was cleared of being part of any spy ring. He was interrogated again under the pressure from the CIA. He was never found guilty but he resigned nevertheless in the fall of 1951. A long, ongoing, and tumultuous decade of accusations continued. After many years Philby admitted to having been a spy.

While Widmerpool is clearly not a spy of this magnitude, it is clear he had some involvement at least on a basic level acting as a spy for the Soviets. Although he tries to keep it under wraps as much as possible, Pamela blows his spot at the Conference with everyone listening to their conversation. Widmerpool comes into the room with the painting of Gyges on the ceiling. He is quite flustered and is worried about Dr. Belkin. When Pamela reveals that Ferrand-Sénéchal said something important before he died Widmerpool demands to know this information. Eventually Widmerpool’s rage boils over and he stammers “`You know its importance – if true…which I doubt…the whole point of making this contact…the consequences…you know perfectly well what I mean…'” (TK 110) As a spy it is important to make contacts with other spies. It is a form of networking that is relied up. Also, during the movie, Nick observes Widmerpool shaking some hands with a group of men in Venice and then proceeding into a house late at night. Is a mysterious turn of events that leaves the reader and the viewer wondering what Widmerpool is up to, if he will be caught, or if he will escape just like Harold Philby did having served a purpose of helping the Soviets spy on their British enemies.

Works Cited

http://www.spartacus.schoolnet.co.uk/SSphilby.htm

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harold_Philby

Donald Maclean and Guy Burgess were considered to be two of the greatest spies ever recruited by the Soviet Union. Both belonged to the Cambridge Five, a ring of spies in the UK, who passed information to the Soviet Union during World War II and into the 1950s. Other proven members of this band include Kim Filby and Anthony Blunt. The fifth man was rumored to be John Cairncross. They are called the Cambridge Five, or at times the Cambridge Four, because they all became committed to the communist party while attending Cambridge University.

Maclean was recruited by Anthony Blunt while he was an undergraduate in his last year at Cambridge and was to be a direct penetration agent. A penetration agent was someone who would be able to infiltrate government organizations and gain a position where they would have access to useful information. Maclean passed his Civil Service exam, lying about his interest in the Communist party, claiming that while he may have favored it at one time, had since become dissatisfied with the party as of late. Maclean began work in London at the Foreign office, which was responsible for promoting British interests over seas. He was then posted at the British Embassy in Paris when WWII broke out.From 1944-1948 Maclean was transferred Washington, where he was the secretary of the British Embassy and the Sectretary of the Combined Policy Committee on Atomic Development. These positions allowed Maclean to become Stalin’s main source of information for the communications between Churchill and Roosevelt. His information helped the Soviet Union build their own atomic bomb and estimate the size of the United States atomic arsenal, which played a major part in Stalin’s decision instate a blockade of Berlin in 1948 and to train the North Korean army in an offensive war.

In 1941 Maclean was tentatively named as a spy by Watler Krivitsky, but Krivity died suspiciously before any information could be uncovered. FBI agent Robert Lamphere discovered in 1949 that a member of the British Embassy was leaking information from 1944-1946. The code name of this agent was “Homer”. Kim Philby was also investigated as a possible “Homer” and as the investigation around Philby increased he concocted a scheme with Guy Burgess, a British born intelligence double agent, to warn Maclean and get him out of Britain. The plan was for Burgess to visit Maclean in his Foreign Office quarters and hand him a note with the name of a meeting place on it. At that time it was assumed that Maclean’s office had been bugged. After meeting it was decided that an immediate defection to Russia was necessary. The KGB demanded that Burgess escort Maclean behind the iron curtain. Maclean was far too valuable to be captured. There was concern that if Maclean were convicted it would lead to the other Cambridge spies. Maclean and Burgess fled to the coast the Friday before he was to be interrogated. Maclean easily assimilated into life in the Soviet Union, where he was granted citizenship and became well respected.

In A Dance to the Music of Time Widmerpool is suspected to have been connected to Maclean and Burgess’s defection. Roddy Cutts says, “There was a story about his being mixed up with Maclean and Burgess…it was even said that he lent a hand in tipping them off.” (TK, 39) Cutts goes on to say that he did not believe that it was actually Widmerpool who tipped off the spies. Based on the background information on Maclean and Burgess, and what Powell tells us about Widmerpool, it is unlikely that Widmerpool had ever met either man. Powell presents much evidence for Widmerpool’s communist leading and it is extremely likely that he did help pass on information to the Soviets. However, Widmerpool’s position in the world of espionage was in all likelihood very small and mostly limited to passing along the odd message or package. Given the rumors surrounding his name and the knowledge of the public of his Communist leanings, it is doubtful that the Soviet Union would be interested in Widmerpool as a spy, because he is under suspicion and would attract much unwanted attention.

Sources:

All information about the Cambridge Five was gotten from: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cambridge_Five

All information about Donald Maclean and his defection was found in: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Donald_Duart_Maclean

Not a single bullet was fired on a battlefield during the long Cold War between NATO and the Warsaw Pact. If a shot were fired, it would have surely meant imminent nuclear destruction of the two sides. The fear of nuclear attack made the War one of economics and espionage. Whoever spent more money would have more military power and therefore be more intimidating. However, in order to know what the money was spent on, the Soviets and the Allies each had their own spies working across enemy lines discovering each other’s secrets. The most common Soviet spies were Allied citizens who had secretly defected. This is illustrated in Anthony Powell’s penultimate volume of his Dance to the Music of Time series, Temporary Kings.

The most famous of all Soviet spies in England were the Cambridge Four (although the name is somewhat outdated; since the name was coined, many more people have confessed to being part of the espionage ring). They were labeled this because they were recruited to be communist spies while attending Cambridge University. The four proven spies were Kim Philby, Donald Maclean, Guy Burgess, and Anthony Blunt, all of who were high-ranking English government officials.

Anthony Blunt, a discrete homosexual, was the oldest of the group. Highly intelligent and hard working, he was recruited by the Soviet government in 1933 after a visit to Russia. He had been a member of a secret society at Cambridge known as the Cambridge Apostles, which was strongly Marxist. During World War II, Blunt served in MI5, the British equivalent of the FBI. After the war, he became the director of the Courtauld Institute of Art in London, where he retained the post until 1972. Coincidentally, or perhaps not, he was particularly knowledgeable in the works of Nicolas Poussin, the painter of A Dance to the Music of Time. He was instrumental in recruiting Guy Burgess and Donald Maclean.

Guy Burgess, a flamboyant homosexual, was once the lover of Anthony Blunt. Unlike Blunt, however, he possessed none of the characteristics inherent in a spy. He was loudmouthed, unpredictable, and constantly drunk. Nonetheless, he was a former member of the Cambridge Apostles with Blunt and held the position as secretary to the British Deputy Foreign Minister, Hector McNeil. As his secretary, Burgess had access to top-secret documents, which he would remove from the office at night to be photographed, and then have them back on McNeil’s desk in the morning.

Donald Maclean, contrary to popular belief, was neither a committed homosexual nor the frequent lover of Guy Burgess (although Burgess claims he had seduced him). Maclean was recruited into Soviet intelligence by Blunt while at Cambridge. Upon graduating, he worked in the Foreign Office in London, where he passed secrets on to the KGB. During World War II, he worked in the British Embassy in Paris, and escaped back to England when Germany captured France. While in England, Maclean continued to report to the KGB, and informed them that by 1943, the British will have completed a uranium bomb. Maclean was then transferred to Washington, where he stayed between 1944 and 1948. During this period, he was Stalin’s main source of information regarding the Allied development of the atomic bomb. Although he never transmitted any technical data, he reported on its development and progress, and even on the amount of uranium available in the United States. “Maclean’s reports to his KGB controller helped the Soviets not only to build their own atomic bomb, but also to estimate their nuclear arsenal’s relative strength against that of the United States.” (Wikipedia) Maclean also monitored the secret messages between President Truman and Prime Minister Churchill, and was able to transfer important information to the Soviets.

Kim Philby is believed to be the most successful of the Cambridge Four in providing classified information to the Soviet Union. Philby was introduced to Communism at Cambridge University, where he became acquainted with the other Cambridge Soviet spies. In 1940, Philby, with the help of Guy Burgess, was recruited as a British intelligence officer, and eventually was appointed as the head of counter-espionage in Spain, Portugal, Gibraltar, and Africa. He was so good at it that in 1944 he was appointed the head of counter-espionage in the Soviet Union, the perfect job for a Soviet spy. “Philby was also able to tell Moscow just how much the CIA knew about its operations. Moscow asked Philby not to bother saving spies who had served their purpose, but he sat on several reports that revealed the names of other Soviet spies anyway.” (Wikipedia)

The downfall of the Cambridge Four began in 1949, when Philby was asked to find a Soviet spy known as Homer who had passed nuclear test secrets on to the Soviets. Philby was able to deduce that Homer was in fact Donald Maclean. Philby informed Maclean of the evidence against him, so Maclean and Burgess fled the country together and escaped to Russia in 1951 (It is not clear why Burgess fled with Maclean; there was no evidence that Burgess had been a Soviet spy.) Their publicized defection and flight is referenced in The Temporary Kings. As it was clear that they had been tipped off, Philby was immediately under suspicion. The investigation turned up nothing substantial, but he was forced to resign as a British intelligence officer and eventually became a journalist in the Middle East. In 1961, Philby freely confessed to being a Soviet spy. In 1979, Blunt was publicly accused of being a Soviet agent by investigative journalist Andrew Boyle. Later that year, Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher admitted that Blunt had secretly confessed to being a spy 15 years earlier, but was granted immunity in exchange for everything he knew.

Powell’s inclusion of the possibility of Widmerpool being a Soviet spy adds a nice touch of realism to the time period. In Peter Wright’s Spycatcher, he reveals that in the 1950’s, KGB officers and spies outnumbered MI5 officers by more than three to one. Widmerpool, who has recently become a Communist, is a newly appointed member of the Peerage, and would have access to relatively important information. When Widmerpool arrives in Italy, he is frantically searching for a Dr. Belkin, a Soviet citizen (more likely an agent). These pieces of circumstantial evidence all point towards Widmerpool being a spy for the Soviets.

http://educationforum.ipbhost.com/index.php?showtopic=9337

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cambridge_Five

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kim_Philby

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Donald_Duart_Maclean

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guy_Burgess

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anthony_Blunt

http://www.trutv.com/library/crime/terrorists_spies/spies/cambridge/2.html

Premonitions have been an integral part of A Dance to the Music of Time since the very beginning. From the very beginning of the book, like when Nick told us in A Question of Upbringing about how he immediately did not like Bob Duport, or when he tells us at the end of A Buyer’s Market that he would associate more with Jean “when the time came” (BM, 74), he was giving us clues to where he would end up, or what he thought of people. However, Nick’s own predictions are not all the only predictions which are shown to come true. The one prediction that has stuck in our minds from the very beginning was Stringham’s prediction that Widmerpool “would be the death of [him].” (QU, 49) It is therefore self-evident that Myra Erdleigh, a woman who makes her living making predictions about people’s lives would be significant throughout the story. Though she was introduced seemingly as a character unrelated to the story at the beginning of The Acceptance World, she has given us critical information about various characters as the story advanced.

Myra Erdleigh was first introduced in the Ufford, the hotel Uncle Giles used to frequent, at the beginning of The Acceptance World. At that time a brief exchange about astrological signs, we were given enough information to deduce Nick’s birthday, which coincided with Powell’s birthday, incidentally, certainly a fitting introduction to the character of Mrs. Erdleigh.* She then went on to predict that Nick would have an affair with Jean, and that another man would appear in their relationship. While we immediately assume that this man is Jimmy Stripling when we finish the book, we discover several books later, in The Valley of Bones that Jimmy Brent was also involved with Jean at the time, and perhaps Mrs. Erdleigh’s premonition referred to him.

Mrs. Erdleigh makes her most crucial predictions, however, when she meets Pamela Widmerpool (then Pamela Flitton) for the first time. We meet Mrs. Erdleigh again during the war, and her revelations about Pamela Widmerpool are quite important to us. Nick, Pamela, and Odo Stevens find her outside the apartment complex where Nick lives.When Odo tells Mrs. Erdleigh to “tell Pam’s fortune,” (MP, 133) she gives us another premonition, as in The Acceptance World. She tells us that “death… surrounds [Pamela’s] nativity,” (132) which we take as a connection to her uncanny ability to get her lovers (in particular Peter Templer) killed. Furthermore, Mrs. Erdleigh says that Pamela is “not always well governed in [herself]” and that she is prone to “la debauche, l’effronterie, la license…” (135) In Temporary Kings, we see both of these premonitions fulfilled in surprising truth. Pamela herself admits that she was in bed with Ferrand-Seneschal. “You don’t have to be told Leon-Joseph croaked in bed with me.” (TK, 261)

Mrs. Erdleigh’s most recent entry is in this very book. In Temporary Kings, she makes new predictions about Pamela. She appears again only at the end of the book, but as before, her predictions will undoubtedly be significant. “My dear, beware. You are near the abyss. You stand at its utmost edge. Do not forget the warning I gave you when you showed me your palm on that dread night.” (260) Something big is going to happen to Pamela Widmerpool. Mrs. Erdleigh knows it, and it is shown to us by the dramatic exchange following Mrs. Erdleigh’s portent.

Pamela Widmerpool is not likely to be a character in the story for much longer. It seems that all has been going wrong for her. She has found a man she could not break, Russell Gwinnett, and she has gone mad. Her relationship with her husband is breaking down, and despite his usual resilience in the face of her actions, even he has resorted to violence against her. Mrs. Erdleigh’s warning to her could be taken in a figurative sense – that taking the plunge into the abyss will change her life, but also a more literal one – that, like the abyss we know of, her life will come to an end.

Mrs. Erdleigh has not been the most visible character in A Dance to the Music of Time. Gliding in and out of the story like a ghost, she nevertheless maintains a solid grasp on the movement of the story. Although she does not have a direct impact on it, she is omniscient, watching and prophesizing as the action unfolds. Her most important predictions are directed toward Pamela Widmerpool, who is undoubtedly one of the most unpredictable characters that we meet, destroying men all around the world. But Mrs. Erdleigh sees right through her, and just as with anyone else, she makes crucial predictions about her future.

–0–

*This observation was made by Cassidy Carpenter, in her paper “It’s All in the Cards: Cartomancy in A Dance to the Music of Time,” on this website, The Acceptance World page.

The second to the last book of the Dance leaves us with the death of a beloved and close friend of Nick’s, Moreland. They had become fast friends and were still close up until the end of the chapter in Temporary Kings. As we have seen in the past, Nick doesn’t get emotional, even for deaths. However, he does give Moreland a very meaningful farewell in the Dance stating, “That was the last time I saw Moreland. It was also the last time I had, with anyone, the sort of talk we used to have together,” (TK, 276). Nick brings him some books to read at the hospital where Moreland is staying, and discusses vintage cars (which now seem to be occupying everyone’s attention). As Nick and Moreland go through the books that he brought, some of Moreland’s symptoms become known. While Moreland quietly slips away into the clutches of tuberculosis, he enjoys the time he spends with Nick. However, the reader never sees any signs or symptoms for TB, despite the fact that Moreland has been in the hospital for months.

Tuberculosis is caused by a bacterium known as mycobacterium tuberculosis. Although it was feared centuries ago (with good reason, because it claimed approximately 20% of all deaths in the 17th and 18th centuries), it was almost nonexistent 50 years ago. This was mainly because of changing health policies, improvement of living conditions, and the increased prosperity throughout England. By the 1960s, when Moreland died, tuberculosis was not even a top 10 cause of death among children. The disease had virtually been forgotten about. Even groups such as the National Association for the Prevention of Tuberculosis, which was founded in 1899, became nonexistent in the 60s and 70s.

When a person first contracts TB, symptoms act like the flu. The body usually fights it off. After, the TB becomes latent. This can be anywhere from two years on. However, once the disease becomes active, a person usually has a few months without treatment. Common symptoms include getting tired easily as well as having a fever and a cough. When the disease progresses, a person can have a loss of appetite, lose weight, and have night sweats as well as chest pain. These symptoms can take a few weeks or a few months to develop.

Because of these facts, I find it hard to believe that Moreland died strictly because of TB. Moreland complains of a “bad lung” in The Kindly Ones, back in 1938. However, it was only the last time that Nick visited Moreland in the hospital that he showed any signs of having TB. Nick mentions, as more of a side note that “He sighed, more exhaustedly than regretfully, I thought,” (TK, 276). Despite this, the paragraph previous Moreland was “full of nervous energy.” Never did Nick mention that Moreland coughed or did sound like himself. In fact, on one occasion “Moreland adopted the flat lugubrious voice,” (TK, 271) in order to imitate Sir Magnus Donners. While a bad lung may indicate something like tuberculosis, it seems improbable that it would take so many years for Moreland to die from it.

Other than becoming exhausted easily, there is one other main symptom that Moreland exhibits. He passes out at the opera event. Passing out like Moreland did is associated with having pneumonia or lung cancer. However, in both of these cases there would be heavy coughing. For me, the timeline between when Moreland develops symptoms and when he actually dies makes it hard to believe that he died of tuberculosis. If he had latent TB in The Kindly Ones, which developed into active tuberculosis by the end of Temporary Kings, then that would make sense, but he wouldn’t know that it was a bad lung in KO. All he would know was that he had a cold or the flu.

Despite any controversy over which disease Moreland may or may not have, Moreland’s hospital room was almost never empty. Audrey Maclintick was by his side or Nick was visiting or his musical friends stopped by to say hello. Throughout all of those times, he was telling stories and excited to see them. Nick says that “Moreland talked about the scene right up to the end. He never tired of it. There can be no doubt it cheered his last months, added, as he himself said, to the richness of his own experience,” (252). Because of this, the lack of coughing, and nonexistent advanced TB symptoms lead me to believe that Moreland had something else in addition to TB.

Sources:

http://www.healthscout.com/ency/68/123/main.html#SymptomsofTuberculosis

In A Dance to the Music of Time, we have found that Anthony Powell based many of the plot events and characters around things that happened in his own life and people he grew up with. Specifically, in The Temporary Kings, we find him making references to an actual painter of his time, Giovanni Battista Tiepolo. This artist’s name appears in the beginning of the novel when a conference is held at Jacky Bragadin’s Palazzo. When speaking about this palace, Dr. Brightmen said, “(the palazzo) is one never open to the public. Our Conference is greatly favoured. There’s a Tiepolo ceiling there on which I’ve longed to gaze for years.”(42) I decided to further research this artist and create a written portrait of his life.

Giovanni Battista Tiepolo was one of the most influential Venetian painters of the Rococo period. Tiepolo was born the last of six children in Venice in 1696. His father, a sea captain and marine merchant, died in 1697. His mother, Orsetta, was left alone to raise them. Tiepolo’s earliest master was Gregorio Lazzerini. However, his inspiration to pursue an artistic career came after studying the works of Titian, Piazzeta, Ricci, and Veronese. [1] Tiepolo studied the works of both Venetian and foreign contemporaries and studied older painters as well. He was drawn to a melancholic style with strong contrasts of light and shade, also known as chiaroscuro.[2] This was seen in his first public work, “The Sacrifice of Isaac” (1716). In 1717, his name first appeared on the lists of the Venetian painters’ guild as an independent painter.[3] It was not until around 1726 that Tiepolo reached “full maturity of expression.”[4] In these frescos of the Palazzo Arcivescovile of Udine, he gave up chiaroscuro and greatly brightened his color, while preserving his form. The description in the book supports this, as it says, “the colours might have been expressly designed-by dissonance as much as harmony- for juxtaposition against those pouring down in brilliant rays of light from the Tiepolo; subtle yet penetrating pinks and greys, light blue turning almost to lavender, rich saffrons and cinnamons melting into bronze and gold.(82)” His painting style was known to often have many active figures in vivid pastel colors ranged across vast, airy spaces.[5]

Tiepolo spent most of his time in Venice, creating many paintings and frescos, somewhat unaware of what other Venetian painters were creating throughout Europe.[6] In the 1730s, Tiepolo’s fame had spread and he went on an excursion to Milian where he decorated the Palazzo Archinto with mythical scenes. That same year he began the decoration of the Cappella Colleoni at Bergamo, with images of John the Baptist.[7] His earliest surviving frescos were created in 1734.

From 1740 to 1750, Tiepolo created works based on secular themes in which he experimented with forms and appearances found in paintings by Piazzetta, Canaletto, and Guardi. At this time, he became close friends with Count Algarotti, who drew him closer to the classical taste of the time. In 1750, he was invited to Wurzburg by Prince Bishop Karl Philipp von Greiffenklau for three years to produce ceiling paintings and frescos for the Archbishop’s palace. This was one of the greatest moments of his career.[8] He brought along his two songs, 23-year old Giovanni Domenico and 14-year old Lorenzo, and they created a cycle of frescos, which ended up being the boldest work of Tiepolo’s career. In 1761, he left Venice again to create frescos for the royal palace in Madrid.[9] This was his last major undertaking before his death.

He died in Madrid on March 27, 1770. A critic, Robert Hughes, described his work as “full of soaring and twisting space, transparency and delicious shot-silk color-a place dedicated to the imagination and filled with idealized personages from history, myth and fable.”[10] In the 19th century, connoisseurs and critics rejected Tiepolo along with many other Rococo styles. He was considered an “unhealthy and bizarre genius.”[11] Later in the century, a change in taste allowed for rediscovery of the great Venetian. Generations of critics in Italy have been working to reconstruct his artwork and Tiepolo is now accepted as one of the greatest artists of many ages.[12]

Notes:

[1] http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/14723a.htm

[2] “Tiepolo, Giovanni Battista.” Encyclopædia Britannica. 2008. Encyclopædia Britannica Online. 22 May 2008 

[3] http://www.britannica.com/eb/article-9072428/Giovanni-Battista-Tiepolo

[4] http://www.britannica.com/eb/article-9072428/Giovanni-Battista-Tiepolo

[5] “G Battista Tiepolo.” 1997-9.

[6] http://www.britannica.com/eb/article-9072428/Giovanni-Battista-Tiepolo

[7] http://www.britannica.com/eb/article-9072428/Giovanni-Battista-Tiepolo

[8] http://www.britannica.com/eb/article-9072428/Giovanni-Battista-Tiepolo

[9] http://www.boglewood.com/cornaro/xgbtiepolo.html

[10] http://www.boglewood.com/cornaro/xgbtiepolo.html

[11] http://www.britannica.com/eb/article-7256/Giovanni-Battista-Tiepolo

[12] http://www.britannica.com/eb/article-7256/Giovanni-Battista-Tiepolo

Temporary Kings opens in Venice where, for the first time, we find Nick outside of the British Isles. While at a writer’s conference, Nick meets two Americans, Glober and Gwinnett. Being a well-off white male who is used to reading American authors, I had a new experience while reading Temporary Kings: I ran into sweeping generalizations and stereotypes being applied to me. That is to say, characters in Temporary Kings make generalizations and comments about Americans that I find much too specific to be applied to as diverse a group as Americans, and therefore me. I’m sure that I’ve made similar generalizations about other groups of people, and I’m sure I’ve read many American authors doing the same thing Powell does, however, this is the first time I’ve been on the receiving end of it. Admittedly, Temporary Kings takes place many years before I was born, but I don’t think enough time has passed for the generalizations Nick and other characters make to be both true and unrecognizable to me.

My experience is that to call someone “American” does not tell you much about a person, since Americans can be vastly different. A rural farmer from the south, for instance, is going to be an extremely different person from a New York Jewish banker. Geography plays a big part in how people live and America, which is similar in size to continental Europe, has a huge variation in geography. Factors such as climate, weather, and population of an area effect how people live and thus their attitudes. People living in rural areas won’t have the same values as those from urban ones and people from desert regions won’t think in the same way as people from rainy climates. Religion too plays a huge part in forming a person’s attitudes, and America is a country where Protestants, Catholics, Mormons, Jews, and even some Muslims are all to be readily found. Heritage also plays a part in forming the attitudes of most Americans. A Chinese-American will be rather different from an African-American who is likely to be different from a long settled white American who is probably not the same as a recently immigrated Mexican-American. While I think that some generalizations can be made about more specific groups of Americans, my experience says that America as a whole is almost too diverse a place to make any generalizations, let alone the kind Nick does.

Nick, speaking of Gwinnett says, “That he was American scarcely appeared on the surface at first, then something about the thin bone formations of arms and legs, the sallowness and texture of the skin, suggested the nationality” (TK 20). Walking down the streets of New York City I have a very hard time telling who is a foreign tourist and who is an American. I’ve found that the size, shape, color, or even language of a person does little to make the difference clear. If Nick met an African-American scholar would he have found something to suggest the American nationality? Are there no thin-boned and sallow skinned Europeans?

“`Some of the violent consuming nervous American energy was characteristic of Trapnel too.’ `He’d no American blood?’ `Not that I know of.'” (TK 28). This snippet of conversation between Gwinnett and Nick once again makes assumptions about Americans as a whole that I don’t think are true. Perhaps if they were talking about city life, Hollywood, or something more specific, then a generalization could be made, but I don’t think Americans as a whole can really be characterized by nervous energy, at least not any more so than Europeans. I found, however, the second part of the conversation even more perplexing. I know of very few people whose families have been in America for more than four generations, and considering that the US is less than two hundred and fifty years old, what would it even mean to have American blood? For the moment at least, America is a country full of immigrants, so to say, `having American blood’ seems quite strange to me. Odds are that if Trapnel had any American blood, it would really be some form of European blood that stopped over for a couple of years in America before returning to Europe. I could see how having American parents might impart some sort of different temperament on a person, but American blood alone, I think, would mean absolutely nothing.

Throughout the entirety of Temporary Kings, Nick and other characters continue to make generalizations about Americans such as, “Of course he remains essentially American in believing all questions have answers,” (TK 175). “He said all that quite simply, in the manner Americans achieve, without self consciousness or affectation, serious comment,” (TK 156). And, “He looked more `American’ than in Venice… The Americanism had something to do with the intense whiteness of his shirt, cut low in the neck,” (TK 197). These comments, like most of the generalizations about Americans just don’t quite match up against my real life experience. Perhaps the reason is that I am an American and that only someone from the outside, such as Nick or Powell, would take notice of how different Americans are. But, I think that rather than making astute observations about Americans, the characters in the Dance are really just making generalizations drawn from the few Americans they have met and mostly unfounded stereotypes.

This is not to say that Powell made Gwinnett or Glober unrealistic, un-American characters; in fact, I think quite the opposite. Powell, spent time in Hollywood, worked in the British film industry, and was himself an author and literary man. I think that Powell is therefore in a good position to create a film tycoon character such as Glober and an author-professor like Gwinnett. As for the accuracy of Glober and Gwinnett as Americans, I think that because the US is such a diverse place it would be quite hard to create a character that could not possibly be American. Powell, probably more than most people, is also in quite a good position to be able to compare the American types in Hollywood to their British counterparts and to compare American literary types to British ones. Where I disagree with Powell is extending those differences and stereotypes to Americans as a whole.

In Temporary Kings, Nick and other guests to the writers’ conference in Venice visit Jacky Bragadin’s palace and view a ceiling painting by Tiepolo. Very few people know about the painting because, according to Dr Brightman, “The subject, thought to have some contemporary reference, caused trouble at the time the ceiling was painted. That’s why the tradition of playing the picture down, keeping it almost a secret, has persisted to the present day. The owner is in any case said to be more than a little neurasthenic in approach to his possessions, and much else too,” and Gwinnett says that “The owner won’t allow it to be photographed (TK, 43).” While the name Tiepolo is well-known among Dr Brightman’s circles, it is less familiar to me and my classmates. Giovanni Battista Tiepolo (also known as Giambattista Tiepolo) was an 18th century Venetian painter and printmaker. He is considered to be among the last “Grand Master” fresco painters and has paintings in over 60 museums worldwide. In addition, he painted multiple celebrated ceiling frescos like the one exhibited in the Bragadin Palace. Giovanni Tiepolo was born in Venice in 1696, the sixth child of Domenico Tiepolo, a sea-captain, and Orsetta. His first major commission was the Sacrifice of Isaac in 1715 and he was received into the Fraglia guild of painters two years later. Many of his first works were canvasses to decorate chapels and his reputation rose quickly. As his paintings grew in demand, he became very prolific. Prince Bishop Karl Philipp von Greiffenklau commissioned many ceiling paintings by him in the New Residenz palace in Germany, which he worked on for three years. The painting over the entrance staircase is the largest ceiling fresco to date, depicting Apollo and the continents, at 7287 square feet, completed in collaboration with his two sons. In 1753, Tiepolo was elected President of the Academy of Padua and continued to paint frescoes as well as ceiling frescoes for churches. He also painted two well-known ceilings for the Palazzo Labia depicting the Meeting of Anthony and Cleopatra and the Banquet of Cleopatra. Charles III comissioned a large ceiling fresco, Apotheosis of Spain, for the throne room of the royal palace of Madrid. ç Many of Tiepolo’s paintings feature stories from mythology, like the Candaules and Gyges on Bragadin’s ceiling. His ceiling frescoes generally portray the heavens, converting the ceiling into a window into the sky. Though many of his paintings portray partially nude women, as in The Glorification of the Barbaro Family (http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/tiep/ho_23.128.htm), they do not appear to be as suggestive or controversial as the scene depicted in the painting in the movie A Dance to the Music of Time and would not have prompted Pam to ask “Who’s the naked man with the stand?(TK, 83)” Tiepolo did not do a ceiling fresco of Candaules and Gyges, so the painting in the Bragadin Palace does not actually exist. ç Tiepolo’s work was in high demand at his time and has had an effect on many painters following him. His art presents ancient history and myth in a thatrical fashion, as the characters in Candaules and Gyges are presented mid-scene. The presence of his art at the Bragadin Palace shows how extremely wealthy Jacky Bragadin must be.

Sources:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giovanni_Battista_Tiepolo

http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/tiep/hd_tiep.htm

As we learn about the two gay Russian spies, Burgess and Maclean, and the myth of Candaules and Gyges, espionage becomes an important part of Temporary Kings, by Anthony Powell. It is not only hearing about these, but a character in the novel also seems to delve into both sorts of secret life. In the eleventh installment, Widmerpool’s influence, by becoming a Life Peer, has come to its paramount, but still he is very ambitious, craving power. He still attempts to make foreign connections, and in doing so he involves himself in the art of spying. Widmerpool however, dabbles not only in political aspects, but also in the private sphere of sexual espionage.

Over the past few novels of the series, the reader learns from various sources that Widmerpool fades more to the left, borderline Communism. From Bagshaw the reader learns that Widmerpool makes, “people think he is a safe man, because he’s attacked from the Communist end. Pretend he’s an enemy, when he’s really a close friend” (188, TK). Widmerpool’s history in the armed forces gives others around him false confidence that he is anti-Communist, where in truth Widmerpool has very much become a Marxist. Before the reader hears of his political alignment in Temporary Kings, however, Widmerpool exhibits some unorthodox behavior. While in Venice, his business with Dr. Belkin is certainly suspicious. He asks Nick frantically whether or not he has seen this Belkin character, who seems also to be a spy or a foreign correspondent: “he could have become too much occupied in the cultural affairs of his own country, in which he plays a central part” (108). Dealing with a foreigner certainly does not entail that Dr. Belkin is in fact an informant, but rather it is Widmerpool’s reaction to Pamela’s comments of Belkin being “foutu” (109) that add to the picture. He responds flabbergasted: “You know its importance-if true…which I doubt…the whole point of making this contact…the consequences…you know perfectly well what I mean…” (110). The consequences, which can not be said in public, show that it is truly an important and scandalous matter. Finally Sunny Farebrother completes the suspicion by saying, “he had been giving encouragement, too, by passing across little bits of information himself from time to time” (211). From the information concerning Widmerpool’s case and from Widmerpool himself, there is no question that he is a spy working with some foreign government.

The ceiling painting of Candaules and Gyges, depicting the myth, appears in the novel. In Lydia, where Candaules was the king, it was forbidden for someone to see the naked body of another. Breaking this was punishable by death. In the myth, Gyges accepts Candaules’ offer to look upon his wife’s naked figure. In the novel, Pamela references to this picture when tormenting Widmerpool: “All the same, the subject of this particular picture might catch your attention-for instance remind you of those photographs shut up in the secret drawer of that desk you sometimes forget to lock” (110). Here Pamela is referring to how Widmerpool snaps pictures of her and other men having sex. Later on in the novel, a similar event happens. After the Manasch-Stevens party and Pamela becomes enraged, she reveals that she knew that Widmerpool was spying on her and Ferrand-Seneschal, “you tell them about it. After all you were there…He thought I didn’t spot he was watching through the curtain,” (261). Spying on them, Widmerpool is acting as if he were Gyges and Pamela as if she were the queen.

Widmerpool’s spying has been revealed by Pamela and has been discovered by the government. Although he does not find himself in trouble in Temporary Kings, the fact that he is being tried and Pamela’s eventual death are signs that things will go south in the final novel.

As Pamela stares at the fresco of Candaules and Gyges, she asks “Who is the naked man with the stand?” Only referencing the sensuality of the scene, Pamela casually ignores Brightman and Glober as they carefully delineate the myth of the King of Lydia, Candaules, and his guard, Gyges. More importantly, however, Pamela fails to recognize the recurring theme of the temporary kings, as she focuses only on the intent of King Candaules – not the end result. Throughout A Dance to the Music of Time, Pamela has represented the Queen figure – upholding her position while her suitors rotated just as temporary kings; however, the penultimate book, Temporary Kings, represents a reversal of roles, as Pamela ironically plays the role of Gwinnett’s temporary Queen.

From her relationships with X Trapnel, Ferrand-Seneschal, and Widmerpool, Powell has almost overemphasized the allure and danger of Lady Widmerpool. As one who only expressed “emotional warmth…towards the dead,” Pamela proves to be a threat once again in Temporary Kings (102), particularly to the next potential King Cladaules, Gwinnett, an American journalist writing a biography of our beloved X Trapnel. However, from his initial description, Powell hints that Gwinnett may be quite different from Pamela’s other, now deceased suitors.

More than aware of Pamela’s acid personality, even Nick is hesitant to introduce Gwinnett to Pamela, as he contemplates “the question of whether or not to introduce [him]… without saying some preliminary word first” (99). However, his fear of a potential “scene” between Pamela and Gwinnett is suddenly quelled as he realizes that the American journalist is quite different from her previous suitors. “The mere fact that Gwinnett himself, not Pamela, took the offensive” makes quite an impression on Jenkins (100). Having experienced the entirety of Pamela – from Peter Templar to X Trapnel – Nick goes on to parallel “Gwinnett’s tone with Pamela” as he “[conveyed] only the merest atom of over friendliness” (101). As Gwinnet does not seem the least bit overwhelmed by Pamela’s sheer sexual appeal, it becomes quite clear that this temporary king might not be quite so temporary.

Continuing to question Pamela about X Trapnel, Gwinnett continues to reveal his immense capabilities to match Pamela’s previously unparalleled aggression. For instance, in response to Pamela’s threat to destroy Trapnel’s Commonplace Book – which contained portions of the brilliant manuscript Profiles in String – Gwinnett bluntly responds, “I entirely believe you, Lady Widmerpool, but you don’t have the Commonplace Book” (173). Furious because of his disbelief, Pamela threw her supposedly meaningful crocodile shoulder bag over the side of the bridge to imitate Trapnel’s “necessary sacrifice” of his swordstick. Almost immune to her tactics, however, Gwinnett “stood there openly unimpressed” by her open aggression (173). In essence, despite her absurd and irrational actions, Pamela cannot seem to control Gwinnett, as she had to so many others. Almost uninterested in Pamela for reasons other than her knowledge of X Trapnel, the American journalist establishes his dominance in his relationship with the infamous Pamela. Nick once questions whether ” Gwinnett could give Pamela Death” in the sense that Pamela would add Gwinnett to her repertoire of dead suitors; however, as the relationship develops, Jenkins’ original inquiry seems to be entirely ironic because Pamela will most certainly not obtain any sort of physical or emotional Death from Gwinnett.

In a twisted series of events, Pamela Widmerpool commits suicide to appease Gwinnett and his necrophilia tendencies – which Powell gently hints at prior to her death. In an entirely ironic series of events, Pamela’s death comes full circle. Her own need for dominance causes her to desire Gwinnett – who for the most part seems uninterested – to reach an irrational level, so irrational in fact that she commits suicide in her last attempt to satisfy his pleasures. Although Powell leads the reader to believe that Pamela will add Gwinnett to her list of Temporary Kings, it is in fact the Queen who is added to the growing list of the deceased.

Anthony Powell’s eleventh novel in the Dance to the Music of Time series, Temporary Kings brings up a subject, that for the most part has been left alone for the past ten novels; sex. With the introduction of Pamela Flitton a few novels earlier we knew that sex would eventually become a major theme. In this penultimate novel, the floodgates are opened. Perhaps the image of Candules and Gyges should have tipped us off, although I’m not sure if anything could have prepared us for what was to come. Pamela’s multiple affairs and sexual encounters seem tame in comparison to Widmerpool’s stint in voyeurism and Glober’s “locks of love.” By far the most shocking though, would have to be Gwinnett, and his taste for necrophilia. It cannot be proven that Gwinnett actually performed sexual acts with a corpse, but the death of Pamela in his company is more than a clear indicator.

In the past necrophilia was practiced for multiple reasons. Some cultures attempted to communicate with the dead through the acts, while others thought of it as a means to revive the recently deceased. In other societies the practice was enacted owing to a belief that the soul of an unmarried woman would not find peace, therefore versions of a marriage ceremony were held to lay a dead virgin to rest, which would involve intercourse with the corpse. There are records from Ancient Egyptian times, showing that the bodies of young women were sent out to rot for a few days before they were given to the embalmers, in order to discourage any sexual interactions.

Today the reasons for necrophilia are mainly psychological. In 1989 Rosman and Resnick theorized that either of the two following examples were likely to be the cause of necrophilia.

1) The necrophiliac develops poor self-esteem perhaps due in part to a significant loss;

(a) He (usually male) is very fearful of rejection by women and he desires a sexual partner who is incapable of rejecting him; and/or

(b) He is fearful of the dead, and transforms his fear – by means of reaction formation – into a desire.

2) He develops an exciting fantasy of sex with a corpse, sometimes after exposure to a corpse.

The most common belief held by the majority of psychologists, is that Necrophilia is the attempt to gain possession of an unresisting or nonrejecting partner.

The line in which Nick says, “It was death she liked” about Pamela, is terribly ironic. It is true that Pamela has taken pleasure in past lovers’ demises, but in the case of Gwinnett the roles have been reversed. Gwinnett’s ultimate pleasure will come in the form of Pamela’s death, a disgusting and terrible, yet fitting end for the temptress that was Pamela Widmerpool. It would be impossible to simply guess that Gwinnett is a necrophile before Pamela’s death, but looking back on some of the things Nick said about him, we can make the connections. “There was a sense of loneliness.” “Withdrawn, mysterious.” “Russell’s difficulties.”

As the dance moves on, we become more and more acquainted with death. Characters we have known for many novels (Stringham, Templar) are leaving us one by one. Some will miss, and others we won’t. By introducing us to Gwinnett, the necrophile, Powell is giving a much more multidimensional thought on death and what it means to certain people, than we are used to. It will be interesting to watch how Gwinnett progresses in the last novel.

Information taken from:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Necrophilia_in_popular_culture

http://www.trutv.com/library/crime/serial_killers/notorious/necrophiles/necro_4.html

Powell links Pamela to Tiepolo’s work numerous times throughout his description of the ceiling in Temporary Kings. He suggests that Pamela could have been a part of the painting, relating Pamela to the naked woman in its center, and has Pamela express interest in it as to draw everyone’s attention upwards and spark a conversation that seems to be describing and analyzing it. I believe this painting is an insight into Pamela and the description and discussion that occurs surrounding it applies to her as well.

“Pamela’s own tints hinted that she herself, only a moment before, had floated down out of those cloudy vertical perspectives, perhaps compelled to do so by the artist himself, displeased that her crimson and peacock shades struck too extravagant a note, one that disturbed rather than enriched a composition, which, for all its splendor, remained somehow tenebrous too.” (82) The description and dialogue about this painting begins with that description of Pamela. I believe Powell intentionally described Pamela in terms of the painting, and the painting in terms of Pamela. Clearly they are not one and the same, but this depiction allows us to mentally place Pamela in the picture. It lets us know that this is about her. It gives a sense of foreshadow and meaning to the ceiling painting. It is more than just a painting; it is connected, some mysterious way, to the one and only, Pamela Widmerpool.

“The lady, less intent on making love, anxious to augment pending pleasure by delicious delay, somehow remembering her own neglect of some desirable adjunct, or necessary precaution, incident on what was about to take place, had paused.” (84) In context, this sentence clearly describes the woman in the center of the painting, but when isolated it could be camouflaged as an analysis of Pamela. The phrases “augment pending pleasure” and “delicious delay” fit right in with Pamela’s selfish, manipulating tendencies. Pamela’s sexual promiscuity is not just about Pamela loving sex, but about her loving control and her amusement through the downfall of others. She augments her own pleasure by manipulating people with sex, but also by continuously surprising others with her harmful, unjustified, and often unprovoked actions, for example when she discarded X Trapnel’s manuscript.

Powell himself relates Pamela to the woman in the painting when he presents the possibility that, “like Pamela herself — she was frigid but wanted a lot of it all the same” (84) This was brought up as a potential explanation for the body language of the hesitating woman painted on the ceiling. As the myth goes, the woman is paused not because of her Pamela-like frigid desires, but because she was distracted by the man hiding in the corner. Regardless, this clear association of Pamela with the woman is not to be ignored. The intimate situation of nudity, the two men, and the focus on the undecided naked woman creates a scenario of confusion, vulnerability, hesitation, and manipulation that hits close to home to Pamela Widmerpool. “One of the paradoxes about Pamela was a sexuality, in one sense almost laughably ostentatious, the first thing you noticed about her; in another, something equally connected with sex that seemed reluctant, extorted, a possession she herself utterly refused to share with anyone.” (81) Pamela is an anonymity that we cannot understand, but throughout the analysis of Tiepolo’s ceiling painting, Powell brings forth just a few sides of the polygon that is Pamela Widmerpool.

If you had told me before Temporary Kings that Pamela Widmerpool would meet her demise willingly to bring someone else pleasure, I would have pitied you for getting your characters all mixed up. It seemed quite obvious to me that Pam was inhuman and unfeeling and never became involved with a man unless it was on her twisted secret agenda to do so, but even clinging stubbornly to my conviction that Pam is evil and manipulative, I’m having a hard time thinking of any personal benefits to be gained in killing yourself to satisfy your lover’s peculiarities. She would certainly never do such a thing for any of her former lovers; so what, exactly, is different about Russell Gwinnett?

Gwinnett expresses interest in Pam from almost the first moment Nick encounters him, but not the sort of interest she is accustomed to. In his capacity as Trapnel’s biographer, Gwinnett is well aware of Pam’s status as a “femme fatale,” and of the cruelest sides of her vicious nature. He knows her reputation, and he is as well prepared to meet her as anyone could possibly be-but most importantly, he is prepared to meet her as someone who played an interesting role in his topic of research, nothing more.

Nick spends the approximately three pages leading up to the introduction of Pamela to Gwinnett bracing himself for an explosion (reasonable, considering her past behavior). Surprisingly, however, Gwinnett manages to carry the situation with unruffled self-possession: “…Gwinnett himself, not Pamela, took the offensive…” (100), and he proceeds to be more persistent in the face of her frigidity than anyone could have guessed, stating first “I’m writing a book on X Trapnel,” (101) and then, following a lack of any response from Pam, calmly adds “I think you knew him” (101). Gwinnett, unlike almost every other male Pam has encountered, refuses to be intimidated by her. After a few moments of tension, the silence breaks-and Pam has a friendly conversation with him. Wonders never cease.

As their relationship continues, Gwinnett sometimes appears confused by Pamela’s behavior, but still retains some backbone in the matter. When he describes his experience in the Basilica, Nick is surprised at his understanding of Pamela, noting “the comment showed Gwinnett no beginner in female psychology. He and Pamela might be well matched” (158). Then, with slight embarrassment, Gwinnett tells Nick about Pamela’s sudden grab for his balls. Nick, well aware of Pamela’s personality, doesn’t seem much shocked at this, and asks for details only later in the conversation; “…or was she still holding on?” (159). Gwinnett replies, “I’d disengaged her — told her to lay off” (159). At this point, we know for certain that Gwinnett is unusual; one normally would not simply tell Pam to “lay off” and expect to survive the experience.

In addition to Gwinnett’s attitude towards Pam being drastically different from that of most other men, Pam herself behaves quite unusually in her pursuit of Gwinnett. He seems unremarkable as personal conquests go, but Pamela stalks him with a determination that is a bit terrifying at times. Considering her usual indifference to the existence of the rest of the human race, this noticeable interest in another person is surprising.

We never see enough of the interactions between Pam and Gwinnett to be able to tell how compatible they are in personality, but their quirks — Pamela’s tendency to resemble a corpse during sex combined with Gwinnett’s heavily-hinted-at necrophilia, for example — serve to bring them together. While Pamela’s final sacrifice may seem uncharacteristic, it may be a reflection of her feelings, however slight, for a man who was always polite yet never intimidated by her. To say that they loved one another is probably untrue, but perhaps Pamela gave herself to Gwinnett out of a sense of gratitude for the one relationship she had that was not defined by fear.

The city of Venice is famous for its distinctive canals. In fact, these canals were so distinctive and impressive that Tsar Peter the Great of the Russian Empire copied them in an effort to make his capital seem more impressive. In the penultimate book of Anthony Powell’s Dance to the Music of Time, Temporary Kings, Nick Jenkins attends a conference of writers in Venice. During his time there, Nick is surrounded by the history and culture of this venerable city.

Its most famous feature is its canals. The city of Venice is built on an archipelago of 118 islands that are formed by approximately 150 canals. The canals are bridged by about 400 bridges, which are the only land routes to the different islands of the archipelago. In part because of the difficulty that lies in navigating this city of bridges, there are no cars in the city of Venice. In fact, Venice is unique among European cities in that it remains a functioning city in the 21st century without any cars or trucks. Instead, walking or ferries remain as the dominant forms of transportation around the city of Venice . The best-known example of transport is the famous Venetian gondola. For many years, gondolas were used as ferries and were the chief method of transportation within the city of Venice itself. The traditional black color of the gondola dates back from a sumptuary law, but they are still painted black because it has become a tradition. Tourists now mainly use these gondolas, although they are still used by Venetians for traditional reasons like weddings and deaths. Motorized ferries, traghetti, have mostly supplanted gondolas in their role as the chief mode of transport in the city of Venice itself.

Over the course of Nick’s conference in Venice, he meets Russell Gwinnet, who is writing a book on X. Trapnel, and wants to meet Pamela. When he finally meets Pamela, he meets her in the Basilica di San Marco a Venezia, Saint Mark’s Basilica. The Basilica is extremely ornate on both the inside and outside, and it is built to honor St. Mark. There is some irony in his cathedral being in Venice, as he is traditionally believed to have proselytized the gospel, and one of its chief messages is: “thou shalt not steal”, but his remains were stolen by Venetian merchants in the mid 800s, and were later housed in a temporary church on the same spot as the present Basilica. It is in this very Basilica, where Pam steals Russell’s heart, and grabs him by his attention and other parts as well. This action sets up both Pam and Russell’s demises, as Pamela later commits suicide so Russell can enjoy having sex with her corpse one last time, and Russell, as a result of his meeting and later falling out with Pamela abandons academia.

The background of Venice plays a part in shaping the rest of Temporary Kings. By using Venice, once the most powerful and decadent of all the Italian city-states , Anthony Powell shows just how important the events of this novel are. Although most of the characters are getting older and past the prime of their lives, they are still capable of making decisions that have a huge impact on other characters’ lives. Pamela dies, but not before revealing some of Widmerpool’s dirty secrets, which sets the stage for Widmerpool’s downfall. Likewise, Russell is no longer a literary figure, so this event that leads to Pamela’s death leads also to his own, literary death. This death, combined with Pamela’s, sets the tone for the rest of the novel and the rest of the series. As time marches on, more and more of Nick’s old friends will die too.

Works Cited:

1. “Venice.” Wikipedia. 20 May 2008. 22 May 2008.
2. “Gondola.” Wikipedia. 17 May 2008. 24 May 2008