THE SOLDIER'S ART -- 2007-8, PAGE 2



Commanding Officer: Widmerpool in the Army

Jimmy Yang




      At the end of The Valley of Bones, we find Nick Jenkins under the command of his old friend, Widmerpool. We soon learn from Nick that serving under Widmerpool is far from a pleasant experience. On the contrary, Widmerpool expects out of his assistant the same endless devotion to work that he himself has, and provides him little incentive to do so. Widmerpool is not Nick's first commander, however. In the previous book, Nick found himself under the command of two officers: Rowland Gwatkin, and, briefly, Idwal Kedward, each with their own faults. Nick also meets for the first time in this book another commander, who he works decidedly well with: General Liddament. In A Soldier's Art, we find that Widmerpool shares the faults of the former, and has a distinct lack of the virtues of the latter.

      Rowland Gwatkin was Nick's first commander. While he had a great vision of himself as a commanding officer, Gwatkin had many faults that stood in the way of that goal. Perhaps greatest among those were Gwatkin's indecision in times of need, and his tendency to over-speak and over-think. These are well exemplified by his failure during the training exercise, and his need to consult Nick on matters involving Maureen. Widmerpool also exhibits indecision and over-thinking the way Gwatkin does. In At Lady Molly's, he consults Nick about his relationship with Mildred Haycock just as Gwatkin consults Nick about Maureen.

      After Gwatkin's relief of command, Nick serves shortly under Idwal Kedward. Kedward seems like he would be a better commanding officer than Gwatkin. He doesn't have Gwatkin's idealism and is instead quite down-to-earth. He is also more decisive and able to think for himself. When Gwatkin made his big mistake during the training exercise, Kedward was the first to be aware enough to realize that there had been a mistake. Kedward does have his own problems, however. When Gwatkin is relieved of his command, Kedward is overly blunt and rude to him about it. In a very Widmerpool moment, Kedward also tells Nick that his own platoon is "far from satisfactory." (VB, 220)

      Widmerpool, even more than Kedward, seems to show a lack of respect for other people. He is not only narcissistic, but selfish as well. When Nick learns that Widmerpool is likely to leave the Div HQ and move up to the Cabinet Office, he asks Widmerpool what will happen to him. Widmerpool responds that he has nothing planned for Nick, despite his previous statement that he "look after the people who've been under me." (SA, 25). He goes on to say to him that there is "nothing startlingly brilliant in your work…to make me press for a good appointment for you." (SA, 193) This statement reminds us of the statement that Kedward made to Nick a book earlier. Perhaps the one thing that Widmerpool truly lacks as a commanding officer is something more fundamental: something that we have seen missing from many other aspects of his life as well. "`Do you know what Lyautey said was the first essential of an officer? Gaiety.'" (VB, 152) The importance of this characteristic is enforced in the character of General Liddament, who certainly has gaiety to spare. While he initially comes off as quite strange in the previous book, calling for rations of porridge for the men, and while Widmerpool has a rather poor impression of his "buffoonery," (VB, 241) Liddament seems to do a fair job, as far as Nick is concerned. He points him in the direction of Major Finn, doing what Widmerpool couldn't and "looking after" the people under him. On the other hand, we have watched Widmerpool grow up with Nick, and throughout his life, we have seen very little gaiety. Even in his love for Barbara Goring in A Buyer's Market or his engagement to Mildred Haycock in At Lady Molly's, Widmerpool seems to be his usual self: cold, calculating, and unfeeling to others.

      The one event that stands out among many of Widmerpool's actions in this book is his decision to place Charles Stringham in the mobile laundry, knowing full well of its plan to depart for the Far East. Powell, here, has created for us to see Widmerpool as a hypocrite. When Nick asks Widmerpool to find a way to help Stringham, and place him somewhere better than has mess waiter in F Mess, Widmerpool scolds him, saying that "it is a great mistake ... to allow personal feelings about individuals to affect my conduct toward them professionally." (SA, 72) However, when Nick returns from leave some time later, he discovers that Widmerpool has acted against his own words to Nick, and moved Stringham into the mobile laundry, where we find out that he will be worse off than as a mess waiter.

      Widmerpool is no great commander. While he certainly works hard and schemes quite thoroughly for the organization of the army, investigating characters like Diplock or attempting to secure command for the Recce Unit, he holds none of the qualities necessary for leading men. Like Gwatkin, he over-thinks some of his problems. Like Kedward, he has very blunt and rude with his orders and opinions. Unlike Liddament, he holds very little good will for other men. While Widmerpool says that Nick is not "specially cut out to be a regimental officer" (VB, 242) Widmerpool, if it comes down to it, might not be much better off.





The Theatre of War: Civilian and Military Life in The Soldier's Art

Paul McCarthy




      The Soldier's Art begins with Nick purchasing his army greatcoat from a theatrical costume shop in London before going to join up with his regiment. As he's standing there, waiting to be served, he notices two dummies in a display case, one dressed in a "Harlequin's diagonally spangled tights; the other, scarlet full-dress uniform of some infantry regiment." (SA, pg. 1) Nick at first describes these two as being polar opposites, symbols representing "Civil and Military ... Work and Play ... Detachment and Involvement ... Tragedy and Comedy ... War and Peace ... Life and Death ...." The Harlequin is of the theatre, of leisure and happiness. He thrives in peacetime. The soldier is of the army, of violence and pain. He thrives in wartime. At first glance, these two images live in completely different worlds, but, in reality, they are not. The Soldier's Art is full of instances where the military is connected to the theatre and to the civilian world, and the civilian world, in turn, is rife with violence and pain. As The Soldier's Art unfolds, and with it the events of World War II, these two worlds become more and more tangled together, until there is barely any difference.

      After the costume shop scene, Nick shfts back to the present, when he is stationed at Divisional HQ, in the middle of a German air-raid. The world "was dipped in a livid, unearthly refulgence, theatrical yet sinister." (SA, pg. 12) By using the word "theatrical," Powell immediately links the war back to the theatre, to the civilian world, insinuating that the two might not be as far apart as Nick first imagined. And, then, as the raid is going on, Nick decides to take a walk with Bithel and discuss a bounced check Bithel had used, while bombs are dropping on the HQ. Nothing about that scene is particularly military in nature. Actually, the conversation would have made more sense set in a London office or on the way to a business meeting, not on a field of war. And, later on, Widmerpool says with respect to Stringham, "We are none of us called upon to do more than fulfill the duties of our respective ranks and appointments, vegetables or no vegetables." Both of these instances make the military seem much less serious and dangerous: after all, if someone has enough time to talk about finances on a battlefield, or to gripe about dealing with vegetables, then they are probably not in eminent danger.

      As a matter of fact, the only time Nick's regiment acts like a military force is during their "schemes," or war games, where the two sides are denoted as "Blue Force" and "Red Force." (SA, pg. 33) But this "battle" seems to be play acting as much as anything else. No one dies, there are no tactical gains or losses in the grand scheme of things, just practice. And so, even the most dangerous, important parts of Nick's time at Div HQ are little more than an overly complicated performance.

      There are also several explicit references to theatre during Nick's time at the Divisional HQ. Chapter 2 opens with a theatre metaphor, comparing the division to an acting troupe in the process of rehearsing for a play, or, in this case, the war. (SA, pg. 88) And also, Sergeant Ablett, one of the soldiers in the Mobile Laundry Unit, is a former vaudeville comedian, famous for his "trouserless tap-dance."(SA, pg. 224) His presence adds to the idea of theatre combining with the military.

      These moments of relative peace and comedy in the military are put into stark contrast with the bleak and dangerous world that civilian London has now become. Most of the old nightclubs that Nick once frequented are closed, and those that aren't are much more subdued in nature. Chips Lovell said that the Café Madrid would be "a very sober affair compared with the old days." (SA, pg.115) Moreland and Audrey have to cope with the hassles of ration cards and blackouts, and, of course, the ever-present danger of air-raids. This last danger was made especially apparent with the deaths of Chips and Priscilla Lovell during a pair of air raids. And it is that night, the night that the Café Madrid was destroyed, that we get the first real hero of The Soldier's Art: Max Pilgrim, an actor, a singer, helps drags seven people out of the Madrid's wreckage. (SA, pg. 156) That is far and away the bravest thing anyone does in the entire book, and not from a military hero or a soldier, but a civilian actor. Based on the events of that night, the tragedy of the Lovells and the heroism of Max Pilgrim, along with the rather mundane happenings at Div HQ, it seems civilian life has become more harrowing than military life, and the two worlds, the civilian and the military, aren't as separate as Nick originally thought, looking at those two dummies.

      Immediately following that first visual in the costume shop, the clerk comes out of the storeroom with Nick's greatcoat. He then mistakes Nick for an actor in a play called The War. Then Nick starts thinking about how accurate a metaphor the theatre really is for a war. By the time he turns to leave, he has completely changed his opinion. "On second thought, the headless figures were perhaps not antithetical at all." (SA, pg. 4) That moment sets up a basis for all that follows it, the relationship between the theatre and the war, the civilian world and the military one, and how, over the course of World War II, they became so mixed that they might as well be one and the same.





Stringham and Widmerpool: Positions Reversed

Kym Louie




      At Eton, in the beginning of A Question of Upbringing, Stringham presents himself as cool and confident. He acts with conviction and laughs at people like Widmerpool. Widmerpool is in no position of power, at the mercy of all of his school mates. By the end of The Soldier's Art their dispositions are reversed: Widmerpool acts and speaks with confidence and authority, while Stringham is reduced to taking everything life throws at him and every word directed at him quietly and with head bowed.

      In A Question of Upbringing, Stringham is in a respected position, coming from an upper class family. His position higher than Widmerpool makes it easy for him to tease Widmerpool, and Stringham mocks the way that he talks and moves. Though not an overachiever, he does enough to get by and does take action when the purpose seems worthwhile to him. This is the case when he reports Le Bas to the police in the "Braddock alias Thorne" incident, purely for his amusement.

      While Widmerpool is at Eton, he is constantly ridiculed because he is unordinary: his mistake of wearing the wrong type of overcoat led to students joking about his dressing for a long time after. He has learned to accept mockery from other students: he has a banana thrown at him and instead of making a stand for himself, "an absolutely slavish look came into Widmerpool's face. `I don't mind,' he said, `I don't mind at all, Budd (QU, 11),'" and when Parkinson, captain of games, said that more people should be as keen as Widmerpool, it was met with much laughter. Later, Nick describes Widmerpool as "rather the kind of man people pour sugar on (BM, 74)." Though he tries to connect with Le Bas, Widmerpool has few if any useful connections while at the school.

      As the books progress, Stringham falls into alcoholism, losing control of his life. When he is finally clean of it, he has become used to Tuffy having power over him and has lost much of the conviction he had at school. Nick finds him as a waiter in F Mess, in a lower position than and serving all of Nick's companions. His exchange with Biggs shows how lowly he has become: "'Here, waiter, tell the chef, with my compliments, that he bloody well doesn't know how to cook water.' 'I will, sir.' 'And he can stick these spuds up his arse.' 'Certainly, sir.' 'Where's he to stick the spuds?' 'Up his arse, sir.' 'Bugger off and tell him.' (SA, 68)" He acts similarly when Soper confronts him about the lack of salt.

      Meanwhile, Widmerpool has grown more confident and powerful. He is now a Major, while Nick is only a second lieutenant. In this position, he has more power than many men with whom Nick works, so is not in position to be ridiculed by them. While men may not like him, they must respect him. Unlike Stringham, Widmerpool is a man of action, but he generally tries to move upward in rank and society instead of doing things for personal amusement and believes that "it is a great mistake in the army, or indeed elsewhere, to allow personal feelings about individuals to affect my conduct towards them professionally (SA, 72)." However, he does this in attempting to get his favored officer for the Reece Unit's Commanding Officer, causing as much trouble as the "Braddock alias Thorne" incident.

      When Nick first mentions Stringham and Widmerpool at Eton, Stringham is better liked, better connected, and more confident than Widmerpool. As time progresses, Widmerpool grows in confidence and works tirelessly to achieve more power and respect, while Stringham loses control of his life and, it seems, much of his self confidence and self respect. By the end of The Soldier's Art, when Stringham exits the scene, Widmerpool has become by far more powerful and respected than he.





Bithel's Status in the Army

Erica Bakies




      Anthony Powell, throughout the twelve novels included in A Dance to the Music of Time, often includes foreshadowing and raises situations not seen for many books. Recently, we just read about the bombings in Britain, but going back to Casanova's Chinese Restaurant, we learn of the bombed out Mortimer bar. One of the best lines in the novel, where Nick thinks about Jean, "There is, after all, no pleasure like that given by a woman who really wants to see you," (TAW, 138) only later to find out that she was sleeping with him, her husband, and another man. In one of the early books at Eton College, Stringham says, "That man will be the death of me." As we have just found out, Widmerpool sends Charles Stringham to his death in the Far East with the Mobile Laundry. Whether its dark humor or alluding undertones, Powell's foreshadowing is a main focus of his novels. In The Soldier's Art, Powell focuses on Bithel. The early pages of the chapter are all about how Bithel will eventually end up getting kicked out of the army for inappropriate actions, however it is not until the end of the chapter, some 170 odd pages later, that he actually does. Powell doesn't make it a question of if Bithel is going to get kicked out of the army, he makes it a question of when.

      At the beginning of the chapter, Nick runs into Bithel during an air raid. He's wandering around, and decides to strike up a conversation in the middle of the field with Nick and his fellow officers. As Nick begins to narrate the scene, he slips in a few side comments about Bithel's apparent inabilities, including his prolonged stay with the Mobile Laundry. Nick attributes this to the fact that the division "never received quite the same disciplinary attention," (ASA, 8) as other divisions, and , "That Bithel had lasted so comparatively long in charge of the Mobile Laundry was little short of a miracle," (SA, 8). Nick thinks that Bithel's departure from the army is "ultimately inevitable,' (SA, 8) and sums up all of his statements with, "All the same, ejection (from the army) sooner or later could not be in doubt," (SA, 9). It is evident that Nick has little to no faith in Bithel and his ability to stay in the army. From experience, Nick understands that Bithel's actions will eventually lead to his dismissal. For instance, the last time Nick had really spoken with Bithel was the night that he had "taken a glass too much after traversing the gas chamber at the Castlemallock School of Chemical Warfare," (SA, 10). While this many have been more of an accident because the gas chambers can cause different people to react differently, incidences like those prompted Nick to cast a judgment about a friend, something he rarely does.

      At the same time, Nick brings it to the reader's attention that Widmerpool has it out for Bithel in A Soldier's Art. First of all, one of the reasons that Bithel has been able to hang onto his position in the army for so long is because of a story he made up about a pretend brother that was a VC in the 1914-1918 war. A general agreement went around that a brother of a VC should make it as far up the ranks as at least head of the Mobile Laundry. When Widmerpool found out that this was not, in fact, the truth, he was very angry and took it as the last straw in his campaign to have Bithel removed from duty. From then on, he only needed one more incident to have Bithel officially discharged from the army.

      Bithel knew this as well. When he was having financial problems and a check he wrote bounced by only a few quid, he started to get really nervous. So, he borrowed the money from a fellow officer. Nick describes a potential scenario as, "Whatever the cause, the army from time to time had to forego its wages; sometimes such individual disasters such as Bithel's resulting," (SA, 12). However, Bithel ran into even more trouble when he couldn't pay the officer back. He says, "With any luck, it won't come to a court marshal," (SA, 17). This seems to be something very serious, as Nick says that this might be "the opportunity for which (Widmerpool) was waiting," (SA, 12).

      Of all of the reasons for Bithel to get discharged, there are, of course, reasons that that action does take the full chapter. During his conversation with Nick early in the chapter, Bithel remembers that Nick reads for his occupation. He begins to recount children's stories from magazines he used to read as a boy. Very delicately, Bithel reveals to Nick his desire to be like one of those heroes in the magazines. He talks about how he would react to hearing his first round of bullets, and he wants to work hard to do that. Bithel also has potential to become someone greater than just a soldier in the Mobile Laundry. He says, "I was a great reader as a lad. One of those thoughtful little boys. Never kept it up as I should," (SA, 15). Bithel knows that he can do his job and that he can do it well, what he lacks is the motivation.

      Finally, at the end of the book, the reader sees what has been coming for three chapters. In fact, Bithel gets thrown out of the army for a repetition of an act that Nick is familiar with. Widmerpool uses the episode where Bithel is drunk to throw him out of the army completely. At the same time, Widmerpool is able to get rid of Stringham from his presence, sending him to the Far East. Bithel is not swept out of the army in an effort to create efficiently, he is taken out by a personal vendetta against him by Widmerpool and the sum of all his past actions. Despite Bithel's desire to be a hero in the army, his actions depict him as someone who can not attain that status.





Lost Her Sheep: The Return of Audrey Maclintick

Corey Simpson




      One of the central elements of A Dance to the Music of Time is the tendency of various characters to reappear unexpectedly after going unmentioned for years at a time. Some, we are glad to see again; others, we wish had never been born, and despair when we realize that their absences have only been temporary. In my opinion, Audrey Maclintick falls very firmly into the latter category. Though she seems slightly less hostile than she did in her last appearance, she is far more annoying in A Soldier's Art than she was the first time around. Before, at least, we had the benefit of distance; she was astoundingly nasty, but her marriage to Maclintick was, in the long run, really none of our concern. Now, though, she is too close for comfort. We are fond of Nick, Nick is fond of Moreland, and Moreland, inexplicably, is fond of Audrey-which leaves us to wonder uneasily if, by some sort of twisted transitive property, we are expected to actually like her.

      Audrey does have a history of being unpopular. When we first encounter her, Nick clearly dislikes her, Moreland is afraid of her, and Maclintick's marriage to her is a complete disaster that drives him to be almost cruel to her. To be sure, Maclintick later admits that she was nearly his ideal, but that does not make us think Audrey might be nicer than we thought, so much as that Maclintick might be drunker than we thought. Moreland's wife Matilda, who has been presented as a smart, perceptive woman, refers to Audrey as a "bitch," and any character that doesn't openly loathe Audrey seems to merely find her amusing.

      With her reappearance in A Soldier's Art, however, we are forced to question our assumptions about Audrey's personality. Hugh Moreland is an intelligent man, and if he can stand to live with her, then perhaps there is something more to her. Moreland does want to be taken care of, and that certainly must play a large role in his decision to share a flat with her. He also longs for the days before the war, and sees her as a representation of the past. It seems odd, though, that Moreland would choose Audrey, of all people, to help him recall "the good old days"; odder still, that he should choose her as his caretaker-personally, I would prefer to suffer.

      Nick suggests that Audrey might view Moreland as a substitute for the children she never had (not that she wanted any). She does seem to adopt a nagging, patronizing tone when she deals with him, and her earlier interactions with Maclintick exhibited a definite controlling streak. She always makes a point of establishing herself as the one in charge of any situation, whether or not it is actually true.

      Stringham called Audrey "Little Bo Peep" in reference to the frilly dress she was wearing at Mrs. Foxe's party, but the comparison might be more accurate than he thought. Audrey, behind a front of indifference, wants to control those she has labeled her "sheep," and resorts to verbal abuse as a means of demonstrating her power. Judging by her reaction to Stringham's (and, later, Odo Stevens') flirting, Audrey really just wants to be happy and loved; unfortunately, her abrasive personality and reflexive-almost defensive-hostility continue to sabotage her efforts. Although it doesn't exactly make her more likeable, it is easier to understand and pity Audrey when we realize that she is permanently stuck in a trap of her own making.

      Unless she makes significant changes to the way she treats other people, I can't imagine that Audrey will ever be able to exist in a comfortable long-term relationship. Hopefully her fling with Moreland will not last much longer-what poor fellow she ensnares next is anyone's guess. (I am sure it will never come to pass, but I can't help but feel that a relationship between Audrey and Widmerpool would be an enormously entertaining thing to witness.)





Farewell Charles Stringham

Alex Svec




      The eight installment of the Dance to the Music of Time series The Soldier's Art reunites us with a familiar face. We first met him in A Question of Upbringing and every now and then in the books in between. Charles Stringham is once again in close proximity with our narrator Nick Jenkins. However, this reunion of childhood friends is not all we would hope for or even expect, for Stringham is a changed man in more ways than one. Although the name and face are recognizable, the character himself is not. With the exception of Peter Templar, Nick is among the people he most closely related to during his high school years. It is not unreasonable to expect that Nick would be thrilled with the current situation of working with some of his closest friends. Sadly, this is not at all the case. The difference in military rank between the three, and the transformation Charles Stringham underwent somewhere along the way, makes this reconciliation of characters a bittersweet farewell to what we once knew.

      In A Question of Upbringing we are introduced to the smooth talking, intelligent, somewhat mischievous Charles Stringham. He is a character we are prone to like; an intellectual who will on occasion do such things as to call the police on his housemaster. Even then Stringham's life was conflicted. His father lived thousands of miles away in Africa and he and his stepfather were not on the best of terms. A Question of Upbringing ends with a falling out between Charles and Nick, and we only next see him at an old boys dinner, this time struggling with alcoholism. Although he's addicted to the booze, we can still see many traces of the old Stringham we new and liked. There is a hope that things will once again be made good between old friends. When we again meet Stringham in A Soldier's Art it becomes apparent that all hope is lost.

      We immediately see just how far he has sunk, when he shows up in F mess serving as a waiter to a bunch of grumpy old men. "Here, waiter, tell the chef, with my compliments, that he bloody well doesn't know how to cook water. I will sir. And he can stick these spuds up his arse. Yes, sir. Repeat to him just what I've said. Certainly sir. Where's he to stick the spuds? Up his arse, sir. Bugger off and tell him." The Charles Stringham we once knew most likely would have gone back into the kitchen spit on all the spuds and then proceed to verbally abuse the old men. It would seem that that intellectual upper class Charles Stringham has disappeared, right along with the alcoholic Charles Stringham. What we are left with is nothing more than an automaton, a series of programs; someone meant to follow orders and nothing more. When Nick catches up with Stringham in the alley, our concerns are proven true; any remainder of our old friend is gone. "Don't you feel I'm quite up to the mark as waiter? He said. Nick, you fill me with apprehension. Surely you are not on the side of Captain Biggs, who, I realize, does not care for my personality. I thought I was doing so well. I admit failure about the salt. I absolutely acknowledge the machine broke down at that point." Charles goes on to talk about how he one day will hopefully make a great waiter, and then politely refuses Nick's invitation to dinner. Ironically, this could be considered characteristic of him, because he had previously neglected dinner arrangements with Nick back in A Question of Upbringing. Perhaps it is supposed to signify Nick and Charles second, and what will most likely prove to be final, falling out.

      It is amazing to see how drastically some characters change. Stringham's fall from grace, and Widmerpool's rise of power. The hierarchy is completely flipped from what it was back at Eton. What seemed like such a promising life for Charles turned into a meaningless position. The only solitude he could find was in becoming subservient, while Widmerpool on the other hand, rose from being the joke of the school to becoming a DAAG. As Stringham is transferred to the mobile laundry, destination: Far East, we can only assume that this will be the last time see him, making him right all along when he once said about Widmerpool, "that boy will be the death of me." Farwell Charles Stringham.





The Rhythm of War as a Template for Plot

Alyssa Warren




      In The Soldier's Art, Nick Jenkins' account of the Second World War unfolds following a rhythm of sudden blitzes and air raids. The plot's rhythm forces us to feel as if we are in fact sitting in Britain during the mid 1940s. As it is difficult for his readers to grasp the idea of living in wartime, Powell cleverly writes with a pattern of long stretches of routine matter, daily life in the army, and other tedious anecdotes interrupted with sudden bursts of action. While it is impossible for us to ever comprehend life during the World War II, the style of this book offers us some insight into the cadence of military life.

      The beginning of The Soldier's Art is notably unexciting. Nick buys an overcoat. Nick reminisces about his Moreland days. Nick comments on his daily life in the F Mess. Nick and Bithel converse about the books they read in their boyhoods. These commonplace accounts seem lackluster when one considers the intensity of war. Sixteen pages into the book, Bithel and Jenkins, along with the other men of the F Mess, experience an air raid. Bithel indicates that the raid is "more spectacular than alarming, even a trifle stimulating now one [is] fully awake and dress; so long as the mind [does] not dwell on the tedium of a three-day exercise the following day, undertaken after a missed night's sleep" (16). This comment explicitly demonstrates the tedium of exercises in the army and much of the time in the army is spent on these exercises.

      The deaths of Chips Lovell, Priscilla Tolland, and Molly Jeavons occur suddenly and in quick succession. Max Pilgrim informs Nick, Moreland, and Audrey Maclintick that "no one survived from that corner" of the Madrid where Bijou Ardglass' party was seated. At this table was Chips Lovell. This news shocks Nick as he had just conversed with Chips hours prior to the air raid which hit the Madrid. Nick, Moreland, and Audrey react to this tragic event for mere minutes until Audrey states, "I'll make some tea" (158). Audrey quickly returns to her normal routine by putting a pot of tea on the stove to end a social night. As Audrey makes the tea, Nick realizes that "Priscilla [has] to be told about the Madrid as soon as possible" (158). Without grieving, Nick returns to his matter-of-fact nature and leaves Moreland's flat to bring the news to the Jeavons.

      Upon arriving at the Jeavonses' house a few hours later, Nick is informed that their house has been hit during the most recent air raid. Nick enters the house to speak with Eleanor Walpole-Wilson. She asks Nick if he has heard the news. He begins to say Molly has been killed but is interrupted by Eleanor who adds that Priscilla was also killed in the blast. Eleanor "[begins] to cry" and says, "It's all too awful" (164). Moments later, she says, "We must get out some sort of plan. No good just sitting about" (164). Again, the characters quickly return to normal life after tragic interruptions.

      These dramatic events resulting in the deaths of three prominent characters fall upon Nick and us suddenly and forcefully in a manner similar to that of an air raid. In Nick's description of an ending air raid, the noise "[diminishes], the barrage gradually, though appreciably [reduces] its volume" (17). Then, "quite suddenly the guns [fall] entirely silent, like dogs in the night, which after keeping you awake for hours by their barking, suddenly decide to fall asleep instead" (17). This description demonstrates the suddenness in which an air raid ends and the havoc settles. As previously discussed, Nick and the other characters react to their dramatic situations in a similarly sudden sense: after moments of reaction, they quickly return to the menial tasks of everyday life.

      The third and final dramatic scene of the book involves Widmerpool and his meddling in military affairs. Throughout the book he has been attempting to have his chosen man appointed officer of the Recce Unit. He has also accused Diplock of embezzling money from the Division. These affairs reach a climax in the final pages of the book when Farebrother, Colonel Hogburne-Johnson and the DAPM, Keef, visit Widmerpool's office. To Nick, "it [is] all at once clear as day that one of [Farebrother's] reasons for coming round to Div HA [is] to inform Widmerpool of this promotion to lieutenant-colonel" (198). Widmerpool counters by telling Farebrother that he will be going to the Cabinet Offices. At this point, Farebrother "brings out his trump card," and reveals that Ivo Deanery has been appointed to the Recce Unit (202). Furthermore, Farebrother relays the message that "the MGA thinks [Widmerpool] is a bit too interested" in the Recce Unit affair and that "there's going to be a hell of a row" (203). Widmerpool becomes extremely defensive, "goes very red," and is "furious" (204).

      While Widmerpool tries to compose himself from this situation, Hogburne-Johnson asks him to apologize for accusing Diplock of stealing money. Widmerpool does not apologize and "[gives] the impression that his mind [is] on other things," like his own fate in the army (211). The situation continues to escalate and it seems Widmerpool will need to leave the army after his huge embarrassments. To Widmerpool's relief, Diplock deserts the army. His desertion proves him guilty and justifies Widmerpool's suspicions. The Widmerpool affair settles down as "there [is] nothing to be done" but "only wait and see how matters [shape]"(216). Despite the intensity and rapidity of these events, Widmerpool settles down and Nick "[goes] back to F Mess" for dinner (228).

      The dramatic events of The Soldier's Art occur sporadically and with great intensity and thus resemble the air raids which punctuated life in England during World War II. Not necessarily frequent, these air raids shook up the people. Eventually the raids became commonplace enough that people were able to quickly return to their regular lives. Nick notes that "it might be added that all sense of excitement was to evaporate from air-raids three or four years later" (17). In the course of this book, we see that this is truly that case. The final sentence of the book is: "That same week the plane was shot down in which Barnby was undertaking a reconnaissance flight with the aim of reporting on enemy camouflage" (228). The nonchalance with which Nick adds this onto his accounts in this book reveals that the dramatic events of his life during the war became routine.



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