A Dance to The Music of Time - Volume 2

The title of Powell’s second book, A Buyer’s Market suggests a book about commerce; however, it is a book that revolves around a number of parties that Jenkins’ attends. The characters of the book go to these parties in quest of any of a number of items: money, jobs, sex, social status. The parties function as the marketplaces for these commodities that the characters are searching for.

At some parties, actual economic connections are made, and jobs are acquired. Sir Magnus Donners’ party at Stourwater is in fact a market for business connections. Sir Magnus is a renowned executive who recruits qualified men for his metals business, and people attend his parties to make these connections with him. Widmerpool attends this party to talk to him about “non-ferrous metals” and this party is given for Prince Theodoric, who needs the technology that Sir Magnus is able to sell him. Jean Templer is also present at this party in relation to business which her husband Bob is involved in. This party is a market for jobs and money.

However, all of these parties are not marketplaces for such obvious commodities. Men and women can also be thought of as “commodities” used for the satisfaction of sexual desires. The party at Milly Adriadis’ place serves as this marketplace. Milly is anxious to acquire Stringham. Max Pilgrim, a homosexual, sings songs with sexual connotations. “I’m Tess of Le Touquet/My morals are flukey … Down in the club-house – next door to the lavabo,” although Mr. Deacon doesn’t buy what he’s selling. Jenkins too, is admiring the two gorgeous women present and in this description of Mrs. Wentworth he mentions that she has “small pointed breasts and a neat, supple figure” (112). He is considering her as a sex object but the problem is Theodoric is, too. He is “gravely watching the two young women between whom he stood, as if attempting to make up his mind which of this couple had more to offer” (125). At an earlier “market, there also exists a competition for these commodities in that Widmerpool and Jenkins yearn for Barbara Goring. But after the “sugar incident”, in which both of them completely lose interest in her, they acquire a “lesser” commodity – Gypsy Jones. Everyone is advancing sexually, scouting out partners for their sexual needs.

The parties also serve as a way to increase social status. Milly tries to increase her status by having a party and inviting such people as Sir Magnus Donners and the Prince. Stringham, who is her current lover, is also invited, so this party serves as a reason for them to come together. The Stourwater party is one to which everyone wants to be invited because it is hosted by the influential Sir Magnus Donners. Stringham, on the other hand, when inviting Mr. Deacon, Jenkins, Widmerpool and Gypsy to Milly’s party, says, “Do come. That is, if none of you mind low parties” (95). This reveals that parties appeal to a certain class depending on where they’re held, and who’s on the guest list. Everyone goes to these parties for different reasons, and certainly there is more than one commodity to buy and also certain other commodities that are in high demand The title A Buyer’s Market is therefore an appropriate one that pulls together the different parties under one common theme.

“This projection of himself as a ‘dancing man’, to use his own phrase, was an intimation – many more were necessary before the lesson was learnt – of how inadequate, as a rule, is one’s own grasp of another’s assessment of his particular role in life” (ABM,78). While walking with him after leaving the Huntercombes’ dance, Jenkins wonders about Widmerpool’s understanding of himself as a dancing man, compared to his own perception of him as a man who “had really no right to fall in love at all, far less have any success with girls – least of all a girl like Barbara” (ABM, 80). Jenkins is astounded at the revelation that Widmerpool not only has a relationship with Barbara but also considers himself to be a dancing man. He realizes that one’s perception of another is not always consistent with the reality of that individual or even how that individual sees himself. This theme, of how Widmerpool contradicts the opinions that others have of him, is demonstrated first in the incident in which Widmerpool is struck in the face by a banana and later in his emotional and insightful statement at La Grenadiere, concerning a man’s self-esteem.

Stringham describes the banana incident to Jenkins and portrays Widmerpool as having “experienced some secret and awful pleasure” (11, AQOU), after he was unexpectedly struck in the face by Budd, Captain of the Eleven, with an over-ripe banana. The expression on Widmerpool’s face is described as “slavish”. Such grovelling and submission suggest that Widmerpool has low self-esteem and thus thinks poorly of himself. In contrast to this perception, however, he turns a negative into a positive by apparently acknowledging to himself that Budd, in fact, knew who he was and was extending an apology at having accidentally hit him in the face with a ripe banana. Later on at La Grenadiere, Widmerpool demonstrates that he does not have low self-esteem. He says to Jenkins, “First, you are a great deal too fond of criticizing other people: secondly when a man’s self-esteem has been injured he is to be commiserated with–not blamed. You will find it helpful in life to remember those two points”(154, AQOU). Widmerpool has enough confidence in himself to confront Jenkins about how critical he is of other people and that it is to his advantage in life to be of assistance to those who have been emotionally injured.

At this point, Widmerpool is referring both to his dealings with the Scandinavians and his prior embarrassing experience of the banana incident. He thus contradicts the views of him as a servile and diminished man, surrounding his response to the banana incident, by explaining to Jenkins that he feels a man is not responsible for situations that injure his self-esteem and strongly advises him on what is an appropriate response to such an injury. This strong statement, made by Widmerpool, who has himself experienced a very humiliating situation in the banana incident, speaks to his strength of character in having learned and become stronger from this unfortunate experience.

In A Buyers Market, Widmerpool encounters another humiliating experience when, Barbara, someone with whom he has been involved, dumps a bowl of sugar on his head at a dance. He leaves the scene of the incident to clean himself off and later returns briefly to the party before departing with Jenkins. Widmerpool’s reaction to the incident is described by Jenkins in a fashion parallel to the banana incident. Jenkins says that Widmerpool showed, “almost the identically explicit satisfaction derived from grovelling before someone he admired – though only for a flash” (72, ABM), as he did in before Budd. Contrary to the image Jenkins has of Widmerpool as grovelling before Barbara, he “was upset – very upset – by what happened tonight”(79, ABM). He then says to Jenkins increasing the volume of his voice with each statement, “It was more than silly. It was a cruel thing to do. I shall stop seeing her. I shall certainly take it seriously” (79, ABM).

This display of aggression exemplifies the fact that he is not grovelling, contrary to Jenkin’s perception, and clarifies the fact he chooses to no longer pursue his relationship with Barbara. Widmerpool has now for a second time disproved the image of a man who is subservient to those around him. Throughout the first two books, he disproves the opinions expressed by Stringham and Jenkins. He proves that he has a positive outlook towards his own life when he puts a positive spin on Budd’s recognition of him and also when he reveals to Jenkins that he thinks of himself as a dancing man. He shocks Jenkins when he shares that he is truly a player in the social arena as well as the game of love. Widmerpool also demonstrates that he can overcome adversity by recognizing what a man needs to do to maintain a positive self-esteem, including ending a relationship that is unhealthy. As the novel progresses and we learn more about Widmerpool, his character grows from the early perception of a grovelling, slave-like man into a character who develops strength under adversity.

Throughout A Buyer’s Market, the second instalment of the novel A Dance to the Music of Time, we see Jenkins’ social life take a new beginning. Up until this book, we perceive him as socially naïve. He really isn’t that aware of how things truly are in the world and naturally overlooks many things. Sex becomes a major issue in this book, starting with Jenkins’ first splashes of the concept with Barbara and ending with the loss of his virginity to Gypsy in the last chapter, along with some interesting fetishes and sexual orientations we encounter along the way.

The first chapter shows Jenkins attending a fairly upscale social party. There, Jenkins spends a fair amount of his time with “that noisy” Barbara Goring, his new love interest. However, later in the chapter, we discover, much to Jenkins’s surprise as well as our own, that Widmerpool has an interest in Barbara as well and is in fact, ahead of the game since he has been courting Barbara for quite some time. However, Barbara embarrasses Widmerpool in front countless people by pouring sugar all over him because she thinks that he is acting sour: “Why are you so sour tonight? You need some sweetening” (70). While this action effectively ends Widmerpool’s interest in Barbara, it finishes Jenkins’s interest in her as well. With Widmerpool embarrassed and angry and Jenkins unenthusiastic about the party, the two depart together.

Here, we re-encounter one of the most interesting characters in A Buyer’s Market and a significant figure in Jenkins’s maturation, Mr. Deacon. Jenkins, as well as his parents, with whom Mr. Deacon has had a long relationship, describes Deacon as eccentric but intellectual. The most significant fact about Deacon is unstated but understood in the text, and that is that Deacon is a homosexual. Deacon keeps himself firmly in the closet, defending himself and others vigorously when he reprimands Max Pilgrim, the homosexual entertainer present at the party, for singing a song revealing Max’s sexual orientation, “There are always leering eyes on the lookout. Besides, you song puts a weapon in the hands of the puritans.” When Pilgrim remonstrates, Mr. Deacon says something that clearly shows his personal position on his homosexuality, ” I can give you an assurance that you have no cause to worry about my principles. Such a situation could never arise – I can assure you of that”(149).

One of the most irregular moments in the book comes in the third chapter when we finally meet the famous Sir Magnus Donners. Immediately, we notice something about Sir Magnus that seems to stand out. Observing his home, Jenkins discovers sexual themes throughout the house, as shown by the tapestry “Luxuria” hanging on the wall. The most interesting comment that Sir Magnus makes basically gives away an issue that has been growing since the beginning of the chapter. While giving a tour of his castle, Sir Magnus comments, “I sometimes think that is where we should put the girls that don’t behave,” when the group sees the dungeon. This comment draws a mixed reaction from the crowd as they tour the castle. Stringham is highly amused, suppressing a great burst of laughter, and Truscott seems to understand the joke as well, while Jenkins seems to understand, noticing Baby Wentworth’s discomfort, but never acknowledging it in the text: “What perverse refinements, verbal or otherwise, were actually implied by Sir Magnus’s words could only be guessed”(202). The real implication is that Sir Magnus is a sadomasochist with a bondage fetish.

The third character that Jenkins meets is the sluttish Gypsy Jones, a friend of Mr. Deacon’s and the seductress of both Widmerpool and Jenkins. A problem that we become aware of in the second chapter is that Gypsy is pregnant and needs to find an abortionist. Needing the money as well, she sleeps with Widmerpool to get the money, instantly earning Jenkins’s dislike, but oddly enough also his desire. In the fourth chapter, after the funeral of Mr. Deacon, we find Jenkins visiting Mr. Deacon’s house only to find Gypsy there clad scantily, dressed as Eve. Here, Gypsy seduces Jenkins as well and gives him his first introduction into the world of sex.

So in the span of four chapters, we see Jenkins go from an innocent little pup to young adult, becoming more aware and experienced with this seemingly new concept. Despite this dramatic change, Jenkins doesn’t display any sort of satisfaction or sense of accomplishment. However, one can’t really blame him for feeling this way, as his first sexual encounter seems to lack any sort of meaning.

In the first two books of A Dance to the Music of Time, we see depicted a narrator struggling with the concept of love. Nick’s initially reserved and reflective approach to relationships amounts to little in A Question of Upbringing, and is perhaps overshadowed by the increasing number of “conquests” made by Stringham and Templer (106). In A Buyer’s Market, Nick takes a step beyond the almost completely one-sided love affairs he has had with Jean Templer and Suzette, and into a relationship with the vivacious Barbara Goring. With Barbara, Nick comes close to experiencing true mutual love, and though this is fulfilling for a time, its shortcomings eventually give rise to an emotional conflict within Nick. Ultimately, he finds flaws in Barbara, including her disapproval of “sentimentality” and her occasional (habitual?) carelessness, and he ends the affair (23). Not soon after this, driven perhaps by a desire to balance out his previous experience with love, or by a sense of falling behind his contemporaries, Nick engages in a rather awkward one-night stand with the “sluttish” Gypsy Jones. By the end of A Buyer’s Market, Nick has a fuller, if somewhat unusual, experience with the world of love, and seems prepared to venture further into it with greater success.

In A Question of Upbringing, Nick’s attitude toward love, sex, and relationships, perhaps because it is addressed only in limited terms, seems hesitant. He is timid about voicing his feelings for both Jean and Suzette, and this results not only in no real relationship developing with either girl but also in a feeling of regret. He is hurt when Jean doesn’t pay him much attention and associates with other men at the Horabins’ dance, but he also realizes that he has never had any “prescriptive rights” to her and that she hasn’t had any way of knowing how he felt (94). With Suzette, Nick at least attempts to make known his feelings – he holds her hand at one point, and later attempts to verbally express his love to her. Unfortunately, he not only waits until his last day at La Grenadière to do the latter, but ends up conveying his feelings to the wrong woman!

In contrast to Nick’s immature love life in A Question of Upbringing is that of Templer. Templer is easy-going and successful in the game of love, as demonstrated by his fling with a “tart” while at Eton, and his affair with Lady McReith. It is difficult to say whether or not Nick approves of Templer’s approach, but he does comment on it: “anyone who is prepared to pretend that love is a simple, straightforward business is always in a strong position for making conquests” (106). It is clear that Nick is not prepared to pretend this, and by the end of A Question of Upbringing, we have little sense of what he is prepared to do with regard to love.

At the start of A Buyer’s Market, however, we see that Nick has developed with Barbara Goring a relationship more mature than those with Jean and Suzette. Because it is his closest experience with reciprocal love, Nick views the relationship initially with optimism and enthusiasm. It is possible that he does not bother describing the best moments of his relationship with Barbara, but from what we see in Chapter One, there are several distinctly negative aspects to it. For one thing, Barbara does not seem committed, or even especially interested in Nick. When inviting him to dinner at the Walpole-Wilsons’ she gives the impression that Nick was not the first person she asked, and at the dinner and subsequent dance she pays him barely any heed (25). In addition, she “crook[s] her finger” at Tompsitt when he enters the room and is involved – we can only guess how intimately – with Widmerpool (42). Barbara also possesses several personal characteristics that appear to irritate Nick, including egotism, capriciousness, and an excessive exuberance. These qualities prompt Nick to wonder if he “so far from loving [Barbara], [does] not actually hate her,” and ultimately they play a part in his decision, made after she pours sugar over Widmerpool’s head, that she is not and never was right for him (64, 73).

Nick also learns a lesson about the difference between “emotional” and “venal” attraction in A Buyer’s Market (249). Barbara’s aversion to “sentimentality” – and the general lack of any physical side to the relationship between Barbara and Nick – besides probably playing a role in Nick’s decision to no longer pursue her, also gives Nick a somewhat one-sided experience with love, as was the case with his earlier adventures. Nick’s exclusion from the world of sexual love with Barbara, coupled with the fact that Stringham, Templer, and Widmerpool seem to have outpaced him with respect to the number and maturity of their love affairs, drives him to “not lightly pass by” the opportunity to sleep with Gypsy Jones (256). Nick himself remarks on the similarities between Gypsy and Barbara: they seem to share both a slightly annoying exuberance and a certain egotism (258). It seems to me that the two girls each embody a different side of love; Barbara represents emotional love, and Gypsy sexual, or “venal” love.

Combining his experiences with Barbara and Gypsy, Nick completes his introduction into the world of love. However, while he may have once professed to be “in love” with Barbara, and did commit the physical act of love with Gypsy, whether he truly loves either of them is questionable. His comment that Barbara “was not – and had never been – for [him],” plus his feelings of “alienation,” “inadequacy,” and even “shock” directly after lying with Gypsy, suggest that Nick, at least as he looks back, feels no great fondness for either woman. Overall, though Nick’s initiation into the world of love is not altogether positive, he has crossed a meaningful threshold and is ready to attempt further “conquests” by merging his experiences with Barbara and his experiences with Gypsy.

In A Buyer’s Market, the castle of Stourwater seems one big façade. From the decorations within it, to the very castle itself, everything is pristine and without flaw, yet Jenkins still feels an eerie chill as he tours the ancient building. The perfection that the castle and its owner, Sir Magnus Donners, strives for, however, fails to mask the deeper problems that each one harbors below the surface. Though the characters are aware of the flaws, they choose not to face them, and instead simply carry on, regardless of what the consequences may eventually turn out to be.

As the group approaches the castle for the first time, Jenkins describes the scene as “The Middle Ages … at its most elegant: all the sordid and painful elements subtly removed” (185). While this opening view is rather serene, it is not true to life: the bad parts have been removed or covered up, and while their removal was “subtle,” it was not so inconspicuous as to be unnoticed by Nick. The very purpose of a castle, to keep safe what is inside, only serves to enhance the sense that Sir Magnus is protecting something from the outside. Once they enter the castle itself, the feeling that something lies concealed behind the “Hollywood film set” of the interior swells within Nick (186). He describes the decorations as evoking a sense of an “overly elaborate solicitude,” and then flat out describes “Sir Gavin’s strictures on Stourwater as ‘too perfect'” being “inadequate as a delineation to the extent of being almost beside the point” (186). Nick, and even Sir Gavin, realizes that the castle is unnecessarily perfect, though at the time they do not offer any idea of what Donners might be covering up.

The actual building is not all that appears overly perfect, for Sir Magnus himself is portrayed as harboring certain aspects of flawlessness. Donners is described as looking “young for his age, and immensely, almost unnaturally, healthy” (197), his health evoking the image of perfection again. Yet it is his appearance, his exterior, that present the sense that all is well; something malignant could very well lurk behind the screen of his good looks.
The characters realize that something is amiss, yet they choose to do nothing about it. Sir Gavin seems to understand that Stourwater is not entirely as it seems, and during the dungeon tour Miss Walpole Wilson also comments on the disparity between the appearances of the castle and its actual function, “explaining that the supposed dungeon was almost certainly a kind of cellar, granary, or storehouse” (211). “No one took any notice of her” however, and the characters willingly let themselves be deceived by Sir Magnus(211). In addition to recognizing the cracks in the would-be perfect image of Stourwater, the characters have begun to see the faults in Sir Magnus as well. His haunting statement about “where [he] should put the girls who don’t behave” gives Nick a deeper insight into Donners than perhaps he had been hoping for (202). Yet the characters do not completely understand the “perverse refinements” (202) of Donners, like the image of Stourwater itself. Jenkins interprets Stringham’s and Truscott’s outlooks on the situation as it is “an enormous hidden joke.” Yet at the same time, Nick realizes just how much “a girl often seen in [Donners’] company might reasonably prefer [that side of his character] to remain unemphasized” (202).

The castle of Stourwater, like its owner, is just a bit too perfect to be true. From the tapestries of the Seven Deadly Sins that adorn its walls to Donners’ private dungeon, the rotten undercurrents of Stourwater, and Sir Magnus himself manage to show through the gleaming exterior that the castle presents. Despite Donners’ best efforts, neither his health nor his mighty castle can protect him from the truth, and from the decay of his interior led on by his questionable sexual habits.

In Anthony Powell’s generation, writers used a sort of code of sexual innuendo to avoid saying too explicitly what they wanted to express. Powell masterfully uses sexual innuendoes throughout A Buyer’s Market. The innuendoes used are so subtle that they are sometimes hard to appreciate. This book not only deals with heterosexuals but also deals with homosexuals. Back in 1953 when Powell published this book this subject was taboo. The issue of homosexuality comes up with two characters, Mr. Deacon and Max Pilgrim. Mr. Deacon painted, “exclusively male figure compositions” (2). At Mrs. Andriadis’ party in chapter two Pilgrim sings a song pertaining to his feminine side. This song includes silly phrases like

Even the fairies
Say how sweet my hair is;
They mess my mascara and pinch the peroxide… (118).

Deacon argues with Pilgrim about Pilgrim’s behavior. Deacon says, “There are always leering eyes on the look-out… Besides, your song puts a weapon in the hands of the puritans.” Deacon’s principles are that it is important to be more of a closet homosexual than an open homosexual. Pilgrim’s principles are the opposite of that. The phrase “puts a weapon … the puritans,” makes Deacon and Pilgrim’s sexual orientations even more obvious to the reader. Powell never directly says that Deacon or Pilgrim is homosexual, but he implies it strongly in the book.

Powell also adds a kinky side to others of his characters. When Nick visits Stourwater, Sir Magnus Donners’ castle, he and the others present are given a tour of the castle. Sir Magnus narrates the tour, and as they enter the dungeon he says, “We are now descending to the dungeons. I sometimes think that is where we should put the girls who don’t behave” (202). Powell implies that Sir Magnus is somewhat of a sadist in this chapter. At this time Sir Magnus is involved with Baby Wentworth and Truscott says that she “doesn’t like it,” referring to Sir Magnus’s sadistic tendencies (199). Powell never clearly says that Sir Magnus is a sadist, but it becomes readily apparent to the reader that Powell is making that point.

Nick is always comparing his sexual experiences with his friends through the first two volumes of The Dance. If a reader does not carefully read page 257 it would be easy to totally overlook Nick’s first real sexual encounter. Powell is so subtle with this revelation in Nick’s life that it can easily be missed. Nick doesn’t talk about actually having sexual intercourse with Gypsy; instead, he talks about “the awareness of a sense of inadequacy” (257) that he felt. There is no sense of triumph felt by Nick after this event for which he has been eagerly awaiting for years. It seems to Nick that Gypsy feels as if nothing, “even relatively momentous, [has] occurred, ” (257).

Powell uses innuendoes throughout his book, but these innuendoes aren’t easy to pick up on. Because of this A Buyer’s Market demands a very close reading. His writing doesn’t make his readers confront the facts of his writing, but the ideas behind them.

Throughout Anthony Powell’s novel, A Dance to the Music of Time, the question of whether one is in fact at ease with his life or whether he is simply putting on a façade to mask his own discontent arises frequently. People crave what the next person has, and don’t want to do what the next person doesn’t have to. In A Buyer’s Market, Jenkins says:
“There is a strong disposition in youth, from which some individuals never escape, to suppose that everyone else is having a more enjoyable time than we are ourselves; and for some reason, as I moved southwards across London, I was that evening particularly convinced that I had not yet succeeded in striking a satisfactory balance in my manner of conducting life” (260).

With this statement, Jenkins unintentionally admits that he is not satisfied. There are many occurrences in his life that have caused him feelings of sadness and discomfort. Mr. Deacon’s death and funeral leaves him at a loss. Also, despite the recent encounter he has had with Gypsy – a happening that normally would have left one quite pleased with himself – he complains about having to go to the Widmerpools’ for dinner. The comment about others seeming to have “a more enjoyable time” is one that most people would make in response to something good happening to someone else as opposed to themselves; consequently, the fact that Jenkins says this after his special moment with Gypsy takes place is odd. Who is having a better time than he is? It is clear that Jenkins is not pleased with himself – a characteristic which causes him to be unhappy with life at the same time.

It’s particularly evident to the reader that, upon hearing of Barbara’s engagement to Pardoe, Widmerpool is completely and utterly shocked but embarrassed to show it to the people around him. Jenkins feels bitter towards Widmerpool because his relationships with most women are closely paralleled to Widmerpool’s misfortune with Barbara. Jenkins says “the news went to dispel his air of self-satisfaction….” (267) “The manner in which jealousy operates is, indeed, curious enough: having perhaps relatively little bearing in the practical menace offered by a rival” (268). The jealousy Widmerpool feels keeps him from maintaining a sane frame of mind, and it is clear that he is not completely pleased with his life either. This is one more aspect of Jenkins’s and Widmerpool’s lives that are in close conjunction with each other.

The desire to get to the next level, which is in part due to jealousy, is the driving force that motivates people to attain the particular stature that they strive for. Yet for others, it creates jealous bitterness, rendering certain people incapable of moving forward and succeeding in life. Widmerpool is clearly not happy with himself; he feels that he should have been the one engaged to Barbara. This sentiment hinders him from moving forward in his normal, “self-satisfied” manner. Many times, similarly, Jenkins’s journey comes to a halt because of love.

Is anyone ever so content with his status that he does not strive to be at the next level in life? Is it out of the ordinary to compare one’s life to another’s? Throughout the first movement of The Dance, the majority of the characters show signs of discontentment with themselves, and their lives – in comparison to others’. The grass always seems to be greener on the other side for Powell’s characters.

Powell uses the plot of A Dance to the Music of Time to tie his narrator with other characters in the readers’ minds. For instance, the repeated appearance of Widmerpool betrays a great deal about the possible direction of Jenkins’s life. Widmerpool seems to be a chronic figure, as Jenkins says “a recurrent factor … I did not, however, as yet see him as one of those symbolic figures, of whom most people possess at least one example, if not more, round whom the past and future have a way of assembling” (29). Powell’s method – using the plot to connect characters – becomes clear in A Buyer’s Market, but it is not the only way that the author creates a link between Widmerpool and Jenkins. Powell also uses a decided motif of decay to group these two for the readers. He comments on Widmerpool’s “own somewhat decaying youth,” a remark that evokes Jenkins’s present residence in Shepherd’s Market (263). Powell describes their worlds- literally their surroundings but also symbolically their youths and the idealism of their youths- as decaying. This simple evocation of similarity is a conscious motif of Powell’s, designed to create a subconscious link for the readers between Jenkins and Widmerpool by linking them against the decaying world around them.

Powell does not use the motif of decay to describe the characters; he describes Widmerpool as a “piscine” creature, and he never describes Jenkins as anything. This is intentional because Powell is not trying to say that Widmerpool and Jenkins are decaying; he is instead trying to link them as characters that live through the decaying of their surroundings together. The first hint of the decaying motif as it relates to Widmerpool appears in a roundabout description of Widmerpool’s preoccupation, or “the interest he had always taken, even while still a schoolboy, in his own health” (31). Widmerpool characterizes this absorption by saying, “I don’t really get enough air and exercise-without which one can never be truly robust” (31). This indirectly states that Widmerpool lacks sturdiness. This passage does not convey the same sense of decay that Powell later uses to describe Widmerpool, but it does set up the possibility of his later decaying. The motif later becomes more evident in chapter four, where Powell uses words like “decrepit” and “decaying” to describe Widmerpool’s surroundings. On page 261, Jenkins describes the elevator up to the Widmerpools’ flat as “an ominously creaking funicular” and on page 273 as “still groaning precariously”. He also describes their maid as a “decrepit house-parlourmaid” (266). Both of these descriptions accentuate the failing or decaying nature of Widmerpool’s proximate world. Another place that Powell describes the decaying around Widmerpool is when he contrasts him and “his somewhat decaying youth” to his mother and her “well-preserved appearance” (263). He says, “Her eyes were brighter than his” (263), a description that highlights the early deterioration of Widmerpool’s youth. All of these descriptions contribute to the motif of decay that surrounds Widmerpool.

Powell also uses this motif to depict Jenkins’ world, specifically through a description of his tenement. Because Powell narrates through Jenkins, who never describes himself in relation to his surroundings but instead his surroundings’ relation to him, this description of his residence is a symbolic description of his world. He relates Shepherd Market, his place of residence, as “scarcely touched by rebuilding”, meaning that it is decaying (153). He also compares it to “one of those tumble-down dwellings depicted by Canaletto or Piranesi, habitations from amongst which arches, obelisks and viaducts, ruined and overgrown with ivy, arise from the mean houses huddled together below them” (153), another way of saying that it is decaying. These descriptions of his residence are symbolic descriptions the world surrounding him.

Powell uses the same motif to describe both Widmerpool’s and Jenkins’s worlds. The result is a subliminal bond between the two in the reader’s mind; the reader pictures both characters swimming upstream while the world floats away beside them. This link aids Powell’s goal of making Widmerpool a symbolically important figure in Jenkins’s life. There are three parts to the worlds that decay around Widmerpool and Jenkins: the literal part of their surroundings – Jenkins’ tenement and Widmerpool’s elevator; the figurative part of their “somewhat decaying youth[s]”, which implies the end of their youthful idealism – the end of both Jenkins’ and Widmerpool’s feelings for Barbara; and the symbolic part of their “age”. This last part is not directly pointed at by the text, but the temporal setting of the book, the Twenties, implies it.

During the first and second books of Anthony Powell’s series A Dance to the Music of Time, the contrasting emotional and professional lives of Nick Jenkins, the narrator, and Kenneth Widmerpool, the sometimes antagonist–sometimes protagonist, reveal one of their deep-rooted differences. The emotional and professional schism forming between Jenkins and Widmerpool originates from a fundamental contrast in their usage of the will. During these books, Widmerpool seems to be acting in accordance with some sort of premeditated design, while Jenkins, the observer, usually steps back from his immediate surroundings letting the eddies and flows of Dance carry him where they will.

Throughout the first two books, the pursuit of the opposite sex seems to be a race; one in which Jenkins has fallen far behind his friends. These friends, Stringham and Templer, provide a reference frame for the reader to clearly see Jenkins’ inability to progress emotionally or physically with women. Jenkins, trailing further and further behind, accepts his estrangement from most of society by admitting even “Widmerpool capable of possessing a vigorous emotional life of his own” (169). At this point, Widmerpool–who had earlier been portrayed as barely human–enters the race with relative success. Suddenly, Jenkins finds himself contending with Widmerpool for women and soon notices that if
either of them has the upper hand, it is Widmerpool.

At the Walpole-Wilson’s party, after witnessing Widmerpool’s “vigorous and instantaneous assertion of the will” (69) towards Barbara Goring, Nick feels an “emancipation from regarding Barbara as [his] own special concern” (69). This instance applies to almost all of Widmerpool’s and Jenkins’ relationships with women. Widmerpool usually takes deliberate action towards a defined end; While Jenkins’, emotions “take place” (112), and he follows them not deliberately, but “somnambulistic[ally]”, only when he encounters a “lack of demur”(256).

In comparison to Widmerpool, Jenkins also has little professional motivation so far. Throughout the book, Widmerpool tries to give pep-talks to Jenkins about the importance of one’s work and professional standing. Their contrasting views appear clearly when Widmerpool says he “can’t see [Jenkins’ job] leading to much”, and Jenkins replies, “what ought it to lead to?” (79)

However, Jenkins soon becomes bitter towards people like Quiggin and Widmerpool, people he defines as those “who have decided to live by the force of the will” (239). By admitting to himself that “this matter of making headway in life was one to which I felt I… ought to devote greater consideration in the future,” (133) Jenkins not only demonstrates envy for the benefits Widmerpool is beginning to reap but shows a conscious ideological separation from him.

By the end of the second book, we find Jenkins, a bachelor of relatively weak professional standing, alone and estranged from many of his childhood acquaintances. Perhaps, Jenkins’ sudden affinity towards Mr. Deacon’s social circle results from a discomfort in the awareness that his older friends, many now married and well-employed, are beginning to alienate him. At the closing of A Buyer’s Market, Jenkins stands to be irreparably separated from many of those with whom he grew up if he does not soon manage to muster some sort of emotional or professional momentum.

A buyer’s market is a market in which the price of a particular commodity or set of commodities is very low, encouraging buyers to buy before the supply decreases and prices are raised. In Anthony Powell’s A Buyer’s Market there is one particular commodity each character is looking to “buy” – love. The many parties during the novel serve as vehicles to obtain this desire. However, by the end of the novel, two weddings have taken place and the market for love no longer favors the buyer. It instead favors the seller, as all of the goods have been bought. Nick and Widmerpool both miss the prime opportunity and are left with little to nothing.

The parties throughout the novel serve as the “marketplace” for men and women interested in the opposite sex or, in the case of Max Pilgrim, the same sex. According to Nick, the party at the Walpole-Wilsons “provided not only the foundation, but the immediate locality…for my association with Barbara, whom I used to meet fairly often at dances” (ABM, 23). At the party at Milly Andriadis’ place, Nick surveys the crowd and sees two women, whose “beauty was irresistible, causing a kind of involuntary pang, as if for a split-second I loved both of them passionately” (ABM, 112). Furthermore, at the Stourwater party Nick desires above all else to spend time with Jean. While touring the dungeons, he says, “I was anxious to escape from the group and look for Jean, because I thought it probable that we would not stay for tea, and all chance of seeing her again would be lost” (ABM, 213). Finally, at Mr. Deacon’s birthday party, Nick is upset when he sees that the party is made up of “mostly married couples, middle-aged to elderly” and “young men” (ABM, 236-37). Therefore, Nick’s single purpose in going to these parties is to find a woman to love.

However, as in all markets, Nick faces constant competition from other “buyers,” who are also looking for the same commodity. Up until the sugar incident at the Huntercombs’ dance, Nick, Widmerpool, and Tompsitt are competing for the same girl – Barbara. Angered by this competition, Nick says, “Widmerpool had really no right to fall in love at all, far less have any success with girls – least of all a girl like Barbara” (ABM, 80). Nick also claims “that Tompsitt’s attitude towards Barbara posed, from my own point of view, a dilemma as to what, short of his own bodily removal, would constitute a change for the better” (ABM, 38). While Nick and Widmerpool’s active love for Barbara mostly dissipates after she accidentally pours sugar over Widmerpool’s head, both characters remain emotionally attached to her. While Nick is dining at the Widmerpool’s in the final chapter, they learn from Miss Walpole-Wilson that Barbara has married Johnny Pardoe. Both characters are bitter that Barbara did not pick either of them. Nick comments that he “could see from Widmerpool’s pursed lips and glassy eyes that he was as astonished as myself…I was myself conscious of a faint sense of bitterness” (ABM, 267).

Nick faces competition of a different sort in the market for Jean, whom he meets at the Stourwater party. While it is not entirely clear whether Nick and Jean were placed next to each another by accident or by Jean’s doing, both characters are interested in one another. While conversing with Jean, Nick is “aware of an unexpected shift towards intimacy” (ABM, 193). However, Jean has already been “bought” or taken off the market by Bob Duport, her husband. Nick’s only advantage, it appears, is Jean’s interest in him. Jean invites him to dinner at her place and, more importantly, the final paragraph of the novel suggests that the relationship between Jean and Nick will develop further in the future.

Nick and Widmerpool are the biggest losers in the market for love, which is no longer full of goods by the end of the novel. Nick, however, appears slightly better off because of his reinvigorated relationship with Jean. Regardless, at the end of the novel, Barbara and Jean both appear to be taken. As a result, Widmerpool and Nick, both desperate to find love in life, resort to relationships with Gypsy Jones, a sluttish woman whom Nick had previously frowned upon. As one can assume from Gypsy’s apathetic character, both find little satisfaction in such a relationship. After having sex with Gypsy, Nick “could not help admitting, in due course, the awareness of a sense of inadequacy” (ABM, 257). Widmerpool shows his affection for Gypsy by paying for her abortion. In return, Gypsy merely says, “somebody had to cough up” (ABM, 249).

By the end of the novel, two main characters have succeeded in finding a spouse – Stringham and Barbara. Most of the other characters, though, are still in the market for a partner. As a result, the competition that takes place between characters in ABM is only a precursor to a contest Nick and Widmerpool will face of finding a permanent partner that will take place later in their lives. This contest will have more long-lasting repercussions where, as Nick describes in the metaphor of Russian billiards, “all scoring is doubled” and “events begin suddenly to take on a significance previously unsuspected” (ABM, 274).

In A Buyer’s Market, Nick Jenkins attends five parties, one of which is a ballroom dance hosted by the Huntercombe’s. After dinner at the Walpole-Wilson’s, the party-goers all gather into taxis and travel to the dance in Belgrave Square. Although Jenkins provides a clear description of the outing, I decided to further explore the details of these early 20th century social functions.

The word “ball” derives from the Latin “ballare,” which means “to dance.” Many of the dances seen at ballroom dances in the early 1900s were universally known and all the dancers were able to follow the predictable steps. Examples of these are the tango, waltz, foxtrot and quickstep. All of the dances vary in rhythm and tempo. For example, the tango involves sharp, catlike steps while the foxtrot is a combination of slow and quick beats in 4/4 rhythm. The quickstep, which requires high energy, a quick pace, and uses a combination of steps from various other dances, emerged out of England in the 1920s. Another dance, the waltz, is the most elegant of all ballroom dances. Widmerpool mentions in the novel, “‘The Merry Widow Waltz’ … I always like that, don’t you?”(65) While there are many variations on the waltz, it is easy for anyone to learn.

The actual dancing of a ballroom dance is much more complicated than the book seems. Jenkins simply states that “the ball took its course; dance-tune following dance-tune, and partner following partner.”(60) While the songs have different rhythms and tempos, the proper way to dance to all of these is using the “Closed Hold,” which originated from the ballroom dancing in the royal courts of Europe. The hold consists of three hand contacts: the man’s left hand holding the lady’s right hand, the lady’s left hand resting on the top of the man’s right upper arm, and the man’s right hand placed on the left shoulder blade on the back of the lady. In addition, the lady’s left elbow rests on the man’s right elbow and the right area of the chest of each person touches the other. This makes it comfortable for the woman to follow the man’s lead. The resting of the lady’s elbow on the man’s elbow most likely developed from the days when women were not allowed to make advances to a man. As he would offer his right arm for support, women accepted by laying theirs on top. This also helps a man keep his right shoulder over his right hip and not twist at the waist. To begin a dance, a man offers his hand palm up, and a lady accepts by placing hers palm down in his. He then leads her onto the dance floor. This general etiquette all ties into the idea that a man should lead and lady should follow.

The attire at ballroom dances in England in the early 20th century varied depending on how formal the dance. Many small details in the book imply that the particular dance at the Huntercombe’s is most likely that of white tie occasion, the most formal. A white tie event requires that men wear a black tailcoat with matching trousers trimmed by ribbon. A vest is also necessary with a white tuxedo shirt. In “A Buyer’s Market”, Archie Gilbert fits this description when described as wearing “an armour of black-and-white steel that encased him” and being “clad in a white tie”(56). At white tie events, women appear in ball gowns, which are evening dresses with a full skirt. In the novel, it is implied the women were in this attire as Powell stated that “Pardoe’s sport-model two-seater was not specially convenient for a girl in a ball dress.” (54) Elbow length gloves are also common, just as “Eleanor, who, in a purposeful manner, was pulling on a pair of long gloves.” (58) Other types of dance events include black tie occasions, which are one step less formal than white tie, but very similar. Black tie optional requires that ladies wear dinner dresses and gentlemen can wear a suit and tie. Less formal than these are a formal, semi-formal and dressy casual event.

Ballroom dancing in England in the early 1900s primarily served as an excuse to get together to meet and socialize. Due to the social setting, however, people did not always get to dance with their favorite, ideal partner. For example, Tompsitt wants to dance with Barbara, but she explains, “I can’t, really I can’t. I must have made a muddle. I am dancing with Mr. Widmerpool. I have put him off till now, and I really must.”(64) At the end of a dance, it is tradition that gentlemen give his arm to his lady and quickly take her back to her seat so they can look for their next partner in line. At the Huntercombes, Jenkins was obliged to do this and abruptly end his conversation with Eleanor, as he says “I did not hear Eleanor’s views on Mrs. Widmerpool, because at that moment the music ceased; and after clapping had died down and couples round us dispersed, the subject … was quickly forgotten.”(60) In these dances, women would go through numerous partners, rarely dancing with the same man twice in a row.

Although ballroom dancing only occupies a small portion of this novel, it still plays a large role in Jenkins’ social life. Technically speaking, human beings are psychologically constructed to achieve fulfillment and happiness in being a couple. Ballroom dancing provides an environment in which couples can socialize together while others can dance with various partners. Powell successfully incorporates small details of the actual history of ballroom dancing into Jenkins’ life in A Dance To The Music Of Time.

If Nick’s role as a detached observer is first established in A Question of Upbringing, it is further realized in A Buyer’s Market, becoming clear both to the reader and to Nick himself. His previous interactions were understandably limited by their academic context, but when Nick begins to attend social functions it becomes obvious that his lack of experience and driving ambition makes him a misfit among his peers. This new awareness of his outsider status disturbs Nick’s self-confidence and causes him to see the accomplishments and qualities of his acquaintances in a new light; where he used to feel only curiosity about interesting individuals, he now envies their apparent success, and dwells on his inability to understand a culture that the others navigate with ease.

Nick’s tendency to over-analyze people, stumble headfirst into completely one-sided romances, and pick up on the subtleties of any situation set him apart in a society that is built on shallow interactions. Surrounded by people marrying for convenience, Nick spends months dreaming about Barbara; of his rivals, Widmerpool is the only one who seems equally serious about winning her affections, as Tompsitt shows a “relative lack of enthusiasm”(38) and, as Nick observes during the dance card episode, behaves “as if taking Barbara away from her rightful partner would give him even more pleasure than that to be derived from dancing with her himself.”(64)

Although Nick considers Tompsitt the most threatening of his rivals for Barbara’s favor, Tompsitt seems to regard the winning of Barbara as nothing more than a triumph over her other suitors-and Pardoe, her future fiancé, interacts with her barely at all. Nick’s emotional involvement in what is seen by others as merely a contest puts him on the same level as Widmerpool, who has been presented as the epitome of social awkwardness since the first few pages of the novel.

Nick’s actions are rarely determined by a desire to compete with others, and he sees his job in publishing as a temporary step on the way to his dream of someday becoming a writer, rather than as a successful career in itself. He has none of the specific goals that drive the rest of his acquaintances, and does not understand their preoccupation with power. Widmerpool, who gathers connections wherever he goes, likewise cannot understand Nick’s indifference to advancement; upon hearing details of Nick’s job, he “seemed rather disapproving of the nature of the business” (78) and, when he remarks “I can’t see it leading to much,” (79) Nick replies “What ought it to lead to?” (79). Nick is perfectly content in a job that Widmerpool thinks is a horrifying dead end, and the fact that he enjoys the job for itself rather than for its potential is a completely alien idea to his goal-driven friends.

However, while it may be easy to ignore Widmerpool’s disapproval of a field that he, after all, knows nothing about, it is much more difficult for Nick to dismiss the feelings of inadequacy brought forth by his encounter with Quiggin and Mark Members. Nick, not being a jealous person, does not grudge his former schoolmates their literary successes-he “was rather impressed to hear that in the unfamiliar form of `J.G. Quiggin’ this former acquaintance was already known as a `writer,'” (239) and “had, indeed, read, with decided respect, some of the pieces there written by [Members].” (242) But although Nick admires their accomplishments, they still serve to remind him of his own failings in that area; being a writer is his only clearly stated goal for the future, and he has done little to achieve it. He says, “speaking of reviews written by Members, Short used to say: `Mark handles his material with remarkable facility,’ and, not without envy, I had to agree with that judgment; for this matter of writing was beginning to occupy an increasing amount of attention in my own mind.” (242) He then admits, in the most tentative phrasing possible, that he “had even toyed with the idea of attempting myself to begin work on a novel,” (242) which could not be farther from the clear-cut ambitions of his friends. Nick certainly does not possess the drive needed to go into business, but even in the literary world it is possible to establish oneself and make connections, and Quiggin and Members have already begun to do so.

No matter his role in any situation, the reader never gets the impression that Nick is fully involved in the action. The behavior of his Society friends makes Nick seem comparatively eccentric in his attitude towards love and power, and even his accurate observations are shadowed by a sense of confusion about how they see the world. Perhaps in later books Nick will conform to Society’s standards, or perhaps remain a relative outsider; but for now, he seems out of place in a world that is simultaneously frivolous and controlled by hidden motivations.

The Seven Deadly Sins — greed, gluttony, wrath, lust, sloth, envy, and pride — are the basic vices to which the Christian church believes common men are susceptible. With these as guidelines, seemingly only a perfect man could live a life without sinning. In fact, committing at least one deadly sin is a necessary condition for a character to be interesting. However, Anthony Powell’s A Buyer’s Market has the distinction of having at least one instance of each sin within its pages.

AVARITA (GREED)

Mrs. Walpole-Wilson hosts the first party of the novel to which Nick and Widmerpool are both invited. Also at the party is Barbara Goring, the object of both Nick’s and Widmerpool’s desire. However, they are not the only men at the party with designs on Barbara. She has prepared to dance with all the men but has accidentally slotted Nick, Widmerpool, and another man, Tompsitt, for the same dance and, rather than dancing with all of them, decides to have supper with them. Widmerpool takes this especially hard and starts to complain. “Widmerpool was by no means prepared to give in at once, though his struggles to keep Barbara to himself were feeble enough, and quite ineffectual.” (66) Widmerpool is greedily trying to keep Barbara all to himself.

IRA (WRATH)

After Barbara finally begins to leave the trio of suitors, Widmerpool suddenly gets up and snatches her wrist. “[His] act was a vigorous and instantaneous assertion of the will…” (69) Widmerpool’s reaction to Barbara’s exit is one of anger brought on by his sole desire to be alone with her. It seems as though one sin generally brings about another.

LUXURIA (LUST)

Lust is by far the most prevalent sin in A Buyer’s Market. The eponymous “market” references the supply and demand of women/wives at all the parties Nick attends. Nick notices women differently in this novel than in the previous one: “The taller of the two girls was largely built, with china-blue eyes and yellow hair, holding herself in a somewhat conventionally languorous style: the other, dark, with small, pointed breasts and a neat supple figure. The combined effect of their beauty was irresistible … for a split-second I loved both of them passionately …” (112) “Lust” is embodied in the novel by a tapestry hanging in Stourwater titled Luxuria, which depicts many images of lust. Soon after looking at it, Nick meets again Jean Templer, his crush from A Question of Upbringing. While talking with her, Nick becomes “aware of an unexpected drift towards intimacy…” (193) Finally, in Nick’s desperation, he finally has intercourse with Gypsy Jones, possible the loosest woman at any of the parties Nick attends throughout the novel. This sin certainly leaves an impression on Nick, who says, “I could not help being struck ,,, by a kind of wonder …” (258)

GULA (GLUTTONY)

Gluttony is possibly the least noticed, yet (except for lust) the most prevalent sin in A Buyer’s Market. At all the parties, huge feasts are served. One example of overindulgence is when Barbara refuses to dance with the three men and instead invites them to supper. Nevertheless, all of the characters “have all had supper.” (65) Tompsitt even tries to deny the fact that he had already eaten, yet Nick “was fairly sure he had seen him leaving the supper-room earlier that night.” (66)

ACEDIA (SLOTH)

There is really only one instance of sloth in A Buyer’s Market, as everyone is constantly running around at parties looking for mates. However, after Nick and Gypsy have intercourse, they lie together, and Nick notices that Gypsy looks “a little bit like Goya’s Maja nude-or possibly … Manet’s Olympia.” (258) The paintings each depict a nude woman lazily lying on a divan. This is another example of how one sin, in this case lust, can lead to another sin.

SUPERBIA (PRIDE)

While Gypsy lies on the divan, Nick says “she glanced down, with satisfaction, at her own extremities.” (258) While the novel is chock full of people trying to look their best for hope of finding a spouse, this is the most clear example of a character taking pride in what they were born with. Gypsy is a pregnant woman, but still looks at her naked self with satisfaction.

INVIDIA (ENVY)

Nick had always been the least accomplished in the ways of love of his group of friends at Eton and Oxford. Templer was the first to be deflowered, and Stringham never arrives at parties without a date. Every girl Nick tries to woo scorns him eventually and Nick lacks the skills to consummate the deal. Nick is even envious of Bob DuPort, Jean’s husband, as he was the man who took his first love away from him. Nick is a boy in a man’s world when it comes to the world of love and sex, and even though he finally does have sex with Gypsy Jones, he still never finds anyone to love him.

The sins in the novel draw us into the realistic world Powell creates even though the situations are so different from the present culture. These sins, however, are not the result of evil but of simple human imperfection. By creating imperfect characters, Powell creates a realistic atmosphere in which the reader can perfectly understand and empathize with the characters emotions, and at the same time appeals to our own voyeuristic tendencies to draw us into the drama of the narrative.

Owen Wilson once said, “True love is the soul’s recognition of its counterpoint in another,” in the film, Wedding Crashers. Love, or rather the search for it, is an ever-present theme in A Buyer’s Market, by Anthony Powell, and Wilson’s notion of true love is hard to find. Characters, such as Stringham do not bother to discover it, but rather artificially create it through different means. His experiences in Kenya, his affair with Milly Andriadis, and his current marriage to Peggy Stepney are his relationships that are based not on love. True love is a sparse resource in A Buyer’s Market, and thus Stringham is willing to substitute this ideal for three different commodities: lust, beauty, and social status.

Stringham is one of the most promiscuous characters, behind Peter Templer, that have been introduced in Powell’s epic. When conversing with Nick about the playful dealings between Lady McReith and Peter Templer, Stringham states plainly that, “that sort of thing is not as difficult as all that,” (172, QU). At this point Stringham appears older to Nick, suggesting that Stringham’s experiences in Kenya had changed him and given him a wider attitude on the notion of relationships. Nick learns that in Kenya, “he spent the night with the divorced wife of a coffee planter in Nairobi,” (172, QU). Stringham, however, has not changed since his days at Eton when he would converse with Peter Templer about women. In Kenya, Stringham, motivated by lust, he simply uses this woman for his own pleasure. He has a “one night stand” with this woman, only to leave her behind for Milly Andriadis in A Buyer’s Market. While in London, Stringham’s outlook on relationships seems to remain constant.

A few years after Oxford University, at Milly Andriadis’s party, Stringham indirectly reveals his sexual affairs with Milly to Nick. Although Milly is about ten older than Stringham, her distinguished physical beauty attracts Stringham. In a playful and very suggestive manner the two engage in a dialogue: “‘Darling…’ she said, throwing an arm around his neck and kissing him energetically. `Why so disgustingly late?’ `Overslept.’ `Milly ought to have been there. `Why wasn’t she?'” (105 BM). Milly’s last comment, as she refers to herself in the third person, and Stringham’s reply entail that either Milly should have been present to wake Stringham up, or, more likely, she should have been there to have sex with Stringham. Although there relationship seems, to Nick, to have a sturdy foundation and to have been going on for months, near the end of the party, Stringham becomes frustrated with Milly and simply throws her away, as if her purpose was no longer convenient. At the end of A Buyer’s Market, Stringham has found a better product to use.

Even though, from his past behavior, it seems that Stringham, like Peter Templer, will never settle down. Nick is completely taken aback, however, when Stringham tells him of his wedding plans with Peggy Stepney at Stourwater. In his narration, Nick says, “I had certainly accepted as obvious the implication that nothing was more distant that marriage from Stringham’s intentions when I had seen him so violently abandon Mrs. Andriasdis’s house,” (188 BM). Stringham and Peggy’s union is not one of love, but rather of social status. Although Stringham insisted that the wedding take place, the bride’s family raised objections to the marriage. The Bridgenorths, however, were finally convinced to let there daughter go, stating, “that it was high time for their elder daughter to get married…and they could well have decided, in the circumstances, that she might easily pick on a husband less presentable than Stringham,” (226, A Buyer’s Market). Allowing their daughter to get married was a question of whether Stringham was worthy or valuable enough, rather than if he cared for or loved their daughter enough. The parents completely disregarded this fact, which also suggests that the couple also ignored it. In his narration, Nick observes that, “she had let her hand rest on a table in such a way…he placed his own hand over hers, upon which she had jerked her fingers away, almost angrily,” (198, BM). The fact that the two are not comfortable showing affection around others implies that their relationship is premature and not ready for marriage.

Lust, beauty, and social status are the main factors that are considered in A Buyer’s Market when Stringham’s relationships are formed. Whether his marriage works out with a foundation of social status, or not, only time will tell. It is likely, however, just as he did with Milly and the Nigerian woman, he will throw Peggy away for some other, better woman.

Jenkins is a reserved individual who we get to know in the first novel, A Question of Upbringing. In A Buyer’s Market, our narrator’s first name is revealed: “If I were you Nicholas – I hope, by the way, you will call me Kenneth in future.” (272 BM) Although this is revealed at the end of the novel, we observe a noted transformation in Jenkins throughout, leading up to this point. One change is his relaxed social demeanor at parties cajoling and flirting with young women, a sharp contrast from the reserved Jenkins we are used to from the first novel. Upon entering Sillery’s party in A Question of Upbringing, he does not utter one word, a marked difference from his actions at the parties he frequents in A Buyer’s Market. His new social habits go hand in hand with his increased interest in women and the idea of love. The change in reference from Jenkins to Nick marks an important turning point in our narrator.

The title A Buyer’s Market suggests there is an open market for those men and women seeking companionship and all should take advantage. There are five major parties that Jenkins visits in this novel, all of which act as a vehicle for possible romances and relationships to begin or evolve. This holds true for Jenkins as we find him focusing his efforts to win the heart of Barbara Goring: “When I said good-bye [to Barbara] at the gates I experienced a sense of unaccountable loss…” (18 BM) Furthermore he says: “…dances seemed pointless unless Barbara was present.” (24 BM) Despite the fact that he shows interest in Barbara, he approaches the first party with caution in respect to his feelings for her because “She seemed to exist merely to disturb my rest…” (25 BM) There are still traces of insecurity in his relations with women, which is most evident in the infamous scene where Barbara decides it would be wise to give Widmerpool “some sweetening.” (70 BM) After she empties an entire castor of sugar over the head of Widmerpool, Jenkins’s decides resolutely “that I had made an egregious mistake in falling in love with Barbara.” (73 BM) After exhibiting such behavior, Jenkins knows she is not, never was, and never will be the right woman for him.

There is a long hiatus between Barbara and his next serious interaction with a woman. When we finally learn of his next encounter, there is little doubt he has allowed himself to change his perspective, albeit momentarily, regarding women. Jenkins sexual encounter in the back of Mr. Deacon’s shop with Gypsy Jones was a spontaneous event which he would have been too timid to have done himself before. A previous unplanned encounter with women, although markedly different, but with similar sexual implications occurred in A Question of Upbringing.

Peter Templer picks up two girls on the side of the road while taking a quick spin in his car. Jenkins admits he “could not help feeling interest – and some slight excitement – to see how matters would develop.” (195 QU) Jenkins excitement is false because he hardly approves of a similarly situation where Templer had a prostitute in London. Jenkins’s escapade with Gypsy can be discussed in parallel with this incident because she is a promiscuous woman herself, although not to the ends of Templer’s tart. After this brief sexual relation with Gypsy, Jenkins grows closer to becoming Nick when he meets Jean Templer, or rather, Jean Duport at the last party he visits.

“I was … conscious suddenly that being on love with Barbara … now seemed a rather amateurish affair.” (192 BM) When Jenkins meets Jean again for the first time since meeting her with Peter, he is on the cusp of becoming Nick. He is mature enough to look back on his obsession with Barbara and see it was not an advanced form of love or affection he felt for her. “… not exactly a `beauty’; but, all the same, still in some way mysterious and absorbing to me, and certainly pretty enough…” (191 BM) is how Jenkins describes Jean. In the pages after our introduction to Nick, he subtly alludes to the fact that he is going to have some interaction with her later. “Certain stages of experience might be compared with the game of Russian billiards, played (as I used to play with Jean, when the time came)…” (274 BM) It is my belief that Nick will have a relationship further along in a subsequent novel, one that will, for a change, have some meaning. Nick may after all have be able to capitalize on A Buyer’s Market.

In Anthony Powell’s second Dance book, A Buyer’s Market, Nick Jenkins witnesses the development of his friend Charles Stringham from the boy he was in the first book, A Question of Upbringing, to the young man Stringham becomes as they make their way into adulthood. After many years without seeing each other, Nick is surprised to hear his old companion referred to as “one of Peggy’s pompous friends” (BM, 44), never having before associated Stringham with pomposity, an ostentatious display of dignity or importance. Nick feels “uncertain whether, in fact, Anne Stepney had not used the term ‘pompous’ in the usual, and not some specialized sense” (BM, 102). In some ways, Stringham has maintained his usual manner of behavior, though at times his motives are a mystery. However, Nick continues to disagree with a drastic change in Stringham.

In their years at Eton, Nick knew Stringham as “an excellent mimic” (QU, 9), usually copying the awkward stride of Widmerpool, and the friend who drew faces on the notice-board as if to “protest against the voice of authority” (QU, 8). One of Nick’s strongest memories of Stringham was the Braddock alias Thorne incident. To Nick’s surprise, Stringham had called the police on their housemaster, Le Bas, reporting of his whereabouts as if he was an escaped convict. Initially, Stringham seemed excited at the commotion which he had caused; however afterwards he showed no signs of pleasure in the prank, saying, “I am afraid it was all in rather doubtful taste. In some ways I regret having been concerned in it. One is such a creature of impulse,” thus indicating his return to his state of indifference as his “cheeks lost the flush they had taken on during the excitement” (QU, 49, 50). Such a turnaround in behavior was most likely due to Stringham’s noted “fits of melancholy’ (QU, 9).

However, during their years in university, Stringham unexpectedly bailed on dinner plans with Nick for a party with the Bridgnorths. He said to Nick, “The fact is I am cutting your date … I’ve been asked to a rather good party at short notice” (QU, 226). His abrupt nature of doing things reflects poorly on his consideration for others and leaves Nick taken aback and annoyed. When Nick was ditched for dinner, he begins to recognize that “considerable changes had indeed been taking place” (QU, 227) in Stringham.

Nick and Stringham had not seen each other for many years after the dinner incident. When Nick chances upon him in a café, it is his chance to reacquaint with Stringham and see who he has become. Stringham’s impulsiveness has certainly followed him into adulthood, indicating straight off his affair with an older woman, Mrs. Andriadis since his “name is rather intimately linked with hers at the moment” (BM, 94). This relationship turns out to be short lived since Stringham leaves the party after an argument, insisting that he must go out, saying “I am at the moment looking into my soul to examine the interesting question of where exactly I do want to go” (BM, 145). Nick deduces that “Their connexion, on his part at least, seemed no more than a whim” (BM, 160) and perhaps Stringham had simply been suffering some sort of restlessness, though Stringham never supplies details about his relationships.

Similar to the boy Nick used to know, Stringham still find pleasure through various pranks or remarks. At the Stourwater party, Stringham instigates trouble by inquiring, “Would it be an occasion for the dungeons?” (BM, 199), knowing Sir Magnus Donners would lead an adventurous tour of the castle. Nick, realizing this inside joke, says, “It stuck me, at this moment, that such occasions, the enjoyment of secret laughter, remained for him the peak of pleasure, for he looked suddenly happier” (BM, 202). Though Stringham has retained some of his humorous nature, his comments are often ill-received. After stating he wants to go to a place of vice, Mrs. Andriadis mumbles, “Do tell him not to be such an ass” (BM, 146). Similarly at Stourwater, “Mrs. Wentworth seemed not greatly amused by [his] facetiousness” (BM, 190).

Despite these moments of witty remarks and opportunities for jokes, his depressive and reticent states are more prevalent. For instance, Stringham conveys “vagueness in speaking of his own employment” (BM, 132) and considers himself “still to be seen passing from time to time through the Donners-Brebner Building. It might be hard to establish my precise status there” (BM, 104). His comments convey a lack of interest in his career, similar to the way he shows a false yet “elaborate friendliness” (BM, 102) when in conversation with Nick. During his argument with Mrs. Andriadis, Stringham complains, “The fact is I am much too boring to stay at a party. That is exactly how I feel myself… I cast a gloom over the merry scene. ‘Who is that corpse at the feast?’ people ask, and the reply is ‘Poor old Stringham'” (BM, 144).

What puzzles Nick most about Stringham is his engagement to Peggy Stepney. He says, “I found it impossible to guess whether he was getting married because he was in love, because he hoped by taking this step to find a more settled life, or because he as curious to experiment with a new set of circumstances” (BM, 197). The motives for such a decision are questionable since it could possibly be yet another impulsive act between the “fits of melancholy” or as he dryly puts it “It comes to us sooner of later” (BM, 212). The interactions between the two hardly ever seem warm and affectionate, including a moment when Stringham “had placed his own hand over hers, upon which she had jerked her fingers away, almost angrily… His first movement had been mad, so it had appeared, almost automatically, not even very specifically as a mark of affection” (BM 198). Whatever the circumstances may be, Nick cannot determine what could “possibly be equated with that state of mind [‘turning over a new leaf’]” (BM, 213).

Stringham’s personality apparently still contains some wit and impulsiveness but is accompanied by states depression and unconcern. His actions in most cases are indifferent of the feelings of others, still, having known Stringham during his adolescence accustoms Nick to Stringham’s sense of humor and persona, though not entirely. In the midst of the book, Powell introduces the idea that the “persons we see most are not necessarily those we know best” (BM, 193). Inversely, if we are so close to persons, we may not see them for who they really are. If Nick is friends with Stringham, he would fail to see the faults that others condemn him for. For the time being, Nick is simply assuming that “the detachment [Stringham] had always seemed to possess was now more marked than ever before” (BM, 102) or perhaps Stringham is just having another case of the doldrums. On the other hand, Nick has seen first hand that “there could be no doubt that he possessed a personal remoteness, a kind of preoccupation with his own affairs, that gave at least some prima facie excuse for using the epithet [pompous]” (BM, 102). On rare occasions is Stringham actually pompous by definition, but as he develops into a negative character, Nick and others may find it hard to call Stringham a “good friend.”

When Nick Jenkins first meets Jean Templer on a visit to the Templer home, in the first part of A Dance to the Music of Time, he is captivated by her strange, almost otherworldly appearance. She is a mystery to him, saying only two sentences, about how “the hard court needs resurfacing” and informing Peter that Sunny Farebrother “turned up just after he left,” (Powell, 74) and she seems to pay no heed at all to Nick. He believes himself in love with her, however, despite the apparent lack of interest on her part, and the fact that she is only “fair, not strikingly pretty” does not deter him. (Powell, 74) In the second book, A Buyer’s Market, we meet Jean again, and she remains an enigma to Nick. The two have not met since his prior visit, and she only appears for a fleeting second in this book. That second, however, gives us insight into Nick’s feelings for Jean, and, in a brief note at the end of the book, how their relationship may develop in the future. Whether she will remain a love interest to Nick remains to be seen, but what is certain is that their relationship will grow, and it will take quite unexpected turns.

The female characters in the foreground of A Buyer’s Market are for the most part, unmarried. As such, Jean, who is now married to Bob Duport, seems as though she would be thrust into the background. She does only enter the story for a moment, but in that moment she has a great effect on Nick. She enters just as many of Powell’s characters do: without warning, and diving straight into conversation. At first, Nick does not even notice her when they are at the party at Stourwater, and she catches him “deep in the tapestry.” (Powell, 192) After beginning conversation on the topic of the tapestry, the two catch up, just as old friends might, about times past. It is clear, however, that Jean is oblivious to Nick’s old feelings. She is even so bold at the end of their meeting as to invite Nick over to visit herself and her husband, whom we know that Nick loathes.

One angle from which we can approach Jean’s character is by looking at Barbara Goring, who is Nick’s love interest at the beginning of A Buyer’s Market. Barbara is flirtatious, and, as Nick finds out near the beginning of A Buyer’s Market, leads several men on, like Widmerpool, Tompsitt, and Nick himself. She does not commit to any one of the men who are after her, telling Nick, “don’t get sentimental,” (Powell, 23) and acting in a similarly flighty manner with the other men. She also seems very shallow. This can be seen in the conversation about “the Haig Statue”, appearing almost comical in her out-of-place statement. “`I can’t see why they can’t make a model of a real horse. Couldn’t they do it in plaster of Paris or something. Don’t you think?'” (Powell, 40) All of this together slowly worsens Nick’s impression of Barbara. The last event that pushes Nick over the edge, however, is Barbara pouring sugar all over Widmerpool. While Nick begins A Buyer’s Market positively enamored by her, by the end of the first chapter, Nick is quite disillusioned, and has decided that he will stop seeing Barbara.

Jean is very much unlike Barbara Goring. She has a much more serious air about her. She is not beautiful, but she seems to be a much more mature being, with “a sense of restraint, a reserve at present unpredictable.” (Powell, 191) In Nick’s own words, she “seemed to express none of the qualities I had liked in Barbara.” (Powell, 191) Nick finds this much more agreeable, as, at this point, he is attempting to do as much as possible to remove himself from Barbara.

Nick and Jean, however, are not likely to have any sort of romantic relationship any time in the near future. Nick expresses himself that, as a married woman, Jean in his mind is “removed automatically from any such sphere of interest.” (Powell, 214) Jean most certainly does not share Nick’s dislike for Bob Duport, since she married him, and, by the end of A Buyer’s Market, we find out that she is “expecting.” (Powell, 234) One glimmer of hope for Nick, however, tells us that we will see more of Jean in the future; that their relationship may yet change again (as so many things have done so far in Powell’s story), and that these two characters will grow closer together. “Certain stages of experience might be compared to a game of Russian billiards, played (as I used to play with Jean, when the time came) on those small green tables…” (Powell, 274) We do not know how their relationship will develop, only that it will grow, and it will be quite unlike Nick’s relationships with other women.

A tapestry entitled “Luxuria” illustrating the deadly sin of lust wraps the attention of Nick Jenkins at Stourwater (Powell 190). Throughout A Buyers Market art has been a key figure in Nick’s description of his world. This alluring piece is based on an actual tapestry, The Triumph of Lust, by Pieter Coecke van Aelst[i]. Completed in 1533 this piece of art would have been an extravagant show of wealth in the late 1920s. Demonstrating social standing is important in 1920s culture, but it is second to the undertone of lust that pulses in every social interaction. The struggle between lust and love is a major theme throughout the novel and the main component in the development of Nick’s character. As he struggles to define the role of relationships in his life, lust allows him to evade communication and the complexities of a relationship for the detached simplicities of sex. This focus on lustful interaction is demonstrated by Powell’s choice to increase the sexuality in scenes throughout the tapestry of Luxuria to contrast the comparatively timid Triumph of Lust. These changes within and surrounding the tapestry foreshadow Nick’s maturation beyond an impersonal sexual encounter with Gypsy and his turn towards intimacy with Jean Templer.

Click on the following link: The Triumph of Lust

Sitting idly at Sir Magnus Donner’s party Nick loses himself in a large tapestry titled Luxuria. The similarities to The Triumph of Lust are undeniable. Nick describes “the four footed beast of the Apocalypse with its seven dragon heads… [and] Hercules, bearing his clubs,” which are centred in the van Aelst piece (190). On the far right of the real tapestry, a woman on a horse holds a cupid figure as it attempts to shoot its arrow. Powell alters this description to illustrate “a winged horned female figure… holding between finger and thumb one of her plump, naked breasts, while she gazed into a looking-glass, held up on one side by Cupid…” (Powell 190). The key details such as her exposed breast and her winged horned appearance are risqué compared to the 1533 version. Another similarity is seen in a muscular Hercules type figure wielding a club on the left-hand side of both tapestries. This is not only an obvious likeness but a demonstration of male dominance in the scene of lust. Besides the implications of love insinuated by cupid and the domineering masculinity portrayed by Hercules, there is no blatant sexual tension. Powell has altered The Triumph of Lust to push the boundaries of 1920s sexuality beyond the subtleties of 16th-century art.

This striking difference of overt sexuality and subtle illusion between Luxuria and The Triumph of Lust foreshadows Nick’s first sexual encounter later in the novel. The winged horned female, as described above, is bare-breasted and admiring herself shamelessly. This same Eve like the picture is captured by Gypsy after her lustful encounter with Nick. “Gypsy lay on the divan, with her hands before her, looking … a little like Goya’s Maja nude-or possibly it would be nearer the mark to cite that picture’s derivative, Manet’s Olympia, which I had, as it happened, heard her mention on some former occasion-she glanced down, with satisfaction, at her own extremities” (258). In both Maja nude and Olympia ,the bare figures are gazing out of the picture as if into a mirror to admire themselves. They elicit the same unabashed self-confidence as Nick attributes to Gypsy. The figure in the tapestry uses an actual mirror to portray the vanity of her exposed womanhood, she admires herself in the same way that the two women in the paintings and Gypsy do. The undeniable correlation between the figures in the tapestry and Gypsy becomes a subtle form of foreshadowing that the reader is unable to pick up until that fateful lusting moment.

Further forewarning is found in the tapestry scene when Jean Templer pulls Nick out of his “deep” trance. His unrelenting fixation on the tapestry of pure sexual pleasure transitions towards a more meaningful intimacy as he begins to reacquaint himself with Jean. Nick’s first thoughts of her show a shift from previous lustful encounters to developing feelings for Jean, “she still seemed slim, attenuated, perhaps not-like the two other girls which whom I had been talking, and around whom my thoughts, before the distraction of tapestry, had been drifting-exactly a `beauty’; but all the same, still in some way mysterious and absorbing to me” (Powell 191). The two girls to whom his thoughts had been previously wandering were Baby Wentworth and Peggy Stepney, beautiful distractions from the bore of the party. His momentary interest in them revolved solely around lustful desires. Nick was “aware of a sudden drift towards intimacy” with a sudden rush of knowing her all at once but “not simultaneously accompanied by any clear portrayal in my own mind of the kind of person she might really be” (193). His rush of emotions are that of grappling to understand Jean’s mysterious character instead of blindly falling into lust with her as he had done with Suzette and Barbara.

In this scene, Nick’s transformation from lustful to loving relationships is delicately hidden in his description of the tapestry and his interaction with Jean thereafter. Powell creates his own version of van Aelst’s The Triumph of Lust to create Luxuria, with details that foreshadow the acts of lust toward Gypsy. Nick uses Luxuria and two paintings of naked women to help him define his perception of sexual desire. There is no true emotion, only the reference to works of art that embody his unfulfilling idea of lust. He becomes “conscious suddenly that being in love with Barbara, painful as some of its moments had been, now seemed a rather amateurish affair” (192). Through his renewed encounter with Jean, he begins to mature, attempting to define the alluring sense of mystery which is love. Jean’s marital status aids this process by preventing his mind from initially wondering if there would be any sexual encounter between them; “if for no other reason, because rather naively, I thought of her as married to someone else, and therefore removed automatically from any such sphere of interest” (Powell 214). By preventing his juvenile mind from focusing first on sex, Nick is able to develop his own idea of true love and caring. Nick has become “more divorced from physical desire than those nights lying in bed in the hot little attic room of the La Grenadière, when I use to think of Jean” (215). It is through Nick’s interactions around Luxuria that the reader sees that Nick will soon move past his lustful encounters, such as with Gypsy, and move onto a mature loving relationship with Jean.

Today was one of those peculiar days, one of those days that represent a transition into another phase of life. I can’t believe that Edgar is dead. I’ll be frank, I’m going to miss the old man. I chose not to go to the funeral. Organized religion is such a disservice to the dead. Instead, I went out for a drink. He would find this a more suitable celebration of his life, and I feel that if I don’t stand by my principles than I’m no sort of person at all. It is unfortunate that horrid woman, his sister, couldn’t see eye to eye with me.

I had a little run-in with that fellow Jenkins this afternoon, the stuck up one who’s always coming over to chat with Barnby. He surprised me a little. I was trying on my Eve costume for the Fancy Dress party, and I was going to show it to Barnby. The dress is just the sort that he’d abhor, but I think it’s a fetching little number. And apparently, Mr. Jenkins agrees. I was happy to see he has a little libido left in him. He simply proves my philosophy that everyone needs a good f#ck every once in a bit. I do think it may have been his first time. It was a rather awkward little debacle. Still, I relish that sensation of losing Self and melding into one. It is more potent than the finest opium. I do hope it did him some good, but I don’t know if it helped him loosen up. He was quick to make an exit after we were done. I even tried to be friendly. I enquired into the details of the funeral, not that they made the faintest difference. He did mention something about Max Pilgrim, which gave me a good laugh after he left. I admire the pansy garden’s sense of community: it seems to conquer the most bitter of personal rivalries. I can’t say I wasn’t glad to see Jenkins go. Howard came over shortly after. Howard is a forward-thinking man, but men get jealous so easy, and I still need a place to stay.

All of these men, constantly thinking they are so fantastic simply because they’re on top. Ugh, perhaps it is time for me to take another venture to the Island of Lesbos (as Edgar so elegantly put it). The softness of a woman provides a nice contrast. I don’t understand why our modern society is so set on its sexual boundaries. The Greeks were more sophisticated than we are, and that was millennia ago! Now they view homosexuality or any aberration from their social norm as madness and immorality. But they view nothing wrong in mowing down millions of young men with their machine guns. And for no good reason! At least with a f#ck you get some pleasure out of it. This world can be a cruel place, so why is everyone so hell-bent on deciding how people get their kicks. I know I’m only trying to cope as best I can.

In Anthony Powell’s A Buyer’s Market, the relationships between the characters are complex and many-layered, as illustrated by the truism; “Nearly all the inhabitants of these outwardly disconnected empires turn out at last to be tenaciously inter-related; love and hate, friendship and enmity, too, becoming themselves much less clearly defined, more often than not showing signs of possessing characteristics that could claim, to say the least, not a little in common,” (159). This applies especially to the relationship between Jenkins and Widmerpool. Although Nick and Widmerpool do not usually plan to spend time with one another, they are brought together by outside forces. While they seem to share very little in common, they are loosely bound together by friendship and are often competing silently, even subconsciously, against the other. Widmerpool is more concerned with business while Nick cares more about the social aspect of his life; but Jenkins and Widmerpool remain connected through friendship and competition. Widmerpool is competitive about his place in the business world unlike Jenkins. He works to attain to goals in business. Nick presents himself as passive, while Widmerpool is outgoing and assertive. He possesses a will to succeed that Nick does not. He admires Widmerpool because of his “embodiment of thankless labour and unsatisfied ambition” (30) yet he cannot see why others, such as Tompsitt, find extraordinary potential in him. He is conscious of Widmerpool’s apparent success, since Nick himself is only in the business of art books. Jenkins mentions that he is trying to write a book, but does not have the drive to focus on it. He rarely talks about his work unlike Widmerpool, who makes no attempt to conceal his self-perceived importance. This reluctance gives the impression that he is uncomfortable talking about his job because he does not want it criticized or compared to his more successful friends. Nick has been unable to achieve any great successes. Widmerpool even tries to take an interest in Nick’s affairs by “trying to find a way in which my daily occupation could be directed into more ambitious avenues” (79) showing that Widmerpool thinks little of Nick’s job. Widmerpool thinks that because he has been a mild success he will be able to help others to become like him, or perhaps he just sees potential in Nick and wants to use it to his advantage later on. Jenkins has a silent rivalry with Widmerpool over love. They both want to be involved with Barbara. They even compete over who will get to dance with Barbara next. When Widmerpool sees Barbara during the dance, he wears the same expression as when he was “waiting for the start of one of the races for which he used so unaccountably to enter” (65). Nick knows that Widmerpool has a crush on Barbara, but feels he does not deserve her. He feels that he should not even be at the dances because he is so socially awkward. Since he is at the dances, Nick is competitive because he sees Barbara as his. It is accidental that Nick is competitive with Widmerpool over love. If Widmerpool was not interested in Barbara, Nick would not care nearly as much. However, both begin to lose their crushes on Barbara after the sugar incident. Nick realizes that he and Widmerpool have similar tastes in women, which gives Nick a larger sense of competition. As Nick had never mentioned his feelings for Barbara to Widmerpool, the rivalry is one-sided and the competition is silent. Widmerpool is determined, which increases the sense of competition between the two when dealing with women. Despite their competitive natures, the two share a type of friendship. They become acquaintances that are linked by fate. Throughout the novel Widmerpool appears at the most unexpected of times, but almost never to see Jenkins specifically. Nick says that he would come to view him as “one of those symbolic figures…round whom the past and the future have a way of assembling” (29). They often spend time together, including at Widmerpool’s house. Despite this, he “had very little idea of Widmerpool’s true character: neither its qualities not defects,” (59) so he judges him according to his actions. They normally do not talk about substantial issues when alone, but rather make small talk. However, the incident with the sugar angers Widmerpool enough to drive him to confess his feelings about Barbara to Nick. He gives Nick a certain amount of respect, and sees potential to become partners in business or friends. Widmerpool must see something in Nick because he “could not bear to be connected personally with anyone, or anything, that might be made, however remotely, the subject of ridicule” (59). Otherwise he would not be seen in public with him or invite him over for dinner. Widmerpool sees something in Nick that Nick himself does not see. Jenkins cannot make up his mind about whether or not the two are friends and leaves it up to the reader to decide. He gives us adequate reflections to show that Widmerpool, who is ambitious and proud contrasts greatly with his own nature, which he represents as passive and naïve. Even though Nick cannot sort out his feelings towards Widmerpool, he recognizes that the two of them are linked. Widmerpool and Jenkins have distinctively different personalities. While Widmerpool is assertive, Nick is passive. This leads to confusion in their relationship. It is difficult to sort out whether the two of them are friends or are in competition, but they are undeniably linked. Widmerpool has climbed significantly since his school days and gives the impression of going much further, both to the other characters and to the reader. Jenkins has better social skills and, as the final paragraph hints, will be using them to his advantage soon. Even though Jenkins has not yet progressed tremendously far in the writing world, the reader gets the impression that he will climb much higher and Widmerpool will play a part in it.

In Anthony Powell’s A Buyer’s Market, the narrator, Nick, speculates endlessly about others while withholding much of his own life from view. During this time, Nick’s life is in a fall from the lofty heights of Eton and Oxford into the art book business and the apartments of Shepherd’s Market. He sees characters he considers less talented and deserving than himself prosper while he lives in a rundown red-light district. This is not to say that Nick does not have opportunities. He attends many respectable dinner parties and dances held by the upper classes. Nick’s choice of profession, in the art book business is another largely avoided topic. The compensation and chances for advancement seem poor, but are not explained. Nick also has a lack of belief in his own endeavors. In many ways this explains his sympathy for Uncle Giles, a character bereft of accomplishments and wealth. Nick’s attitude makes his life during the novel, both social and working, seem to be almost nonexistent.

During A Buyer’s Market Nick attends many upper class social functions, mixing with many notable London figures. He attends the dances of the rich, though he is ineffective in his pursuit of love. Part of Nick’s problem is his lack of maturity. This is made clear in the context of Barbara Goring, when Nick mentions that, “marriage appeared something remote and forbidding, with which desire for Barbara had little or no connection” (25, BM). Nick’s lack of maturity is also evident when he has sex with Gypsy Jones after Mr. Deacon’s funeral. He excuses this by referring to Barnby’s remark that, “the funeral had been `hard on the nerves,'” (256, BM). Nick also encounters Jean Duport at Stourwater and she asks him to dinner, but any action taken upon this invitation is left out of the novel. Nick, despite his apparent obsession with Jean admits that he had, “no coherent plan to make love to her” (214, BM). Though he spends much time thinking about his lack of romance, Nick suggests that he does not spend enough of his time at these parties looking for, “a girl to take the place of Barbara,” (152, BM) and that he, instead, “prodigally wasted … time” (152, BM).

Nor does he mention much networking at these dinner parties, if he does any. When he does talk with people about business, Nick seems to avoid any conversations about his own work. Two of Nick’s contemporaries at Oxford, Mark Members and J.G. Quiggin, are also pursuing careers in literature. Members works for St. John Clarke, a well known novelist and Quiggin is a published author with good prospects. Nick talks with both of them at Mr. Deacon’s party, and they talk about each other’s work quite a bit but Nick does not relate anything about his own work in the art book business. Having not had a chosen career earlier in life, it appears Nick drifted in after university. Widmerpool remarks that, “it doesn’t sound to me a very serious job,” (79, BM) and Nick mentions nothing to refute such claims. It would seem the art books business is not very ambitious, not very profitable, and not very fashionable. Nick mentions that he, “toyed with the idea of attempting … to begin work on a novel” (242, BM), but only mentions this idea once, as if he does not take it very seriously.

Nick’s lack of current success is reminiscent of his Uncle Giles. Uncle Giles is an older bachelor hovering on the edge of financial ruin with a stringent set of standards for the rest of the world. Nick often attempts to view the world as he believes Uncle Giles would. “His views, in fact, provided a kind of yardstick to the proportions of which no earthly yard could measure up” (96, BM). Nick often denounces Uncle Giles and brings him up whenever an older and somewhat unsuccessful character’s flaws are going to be discussed. A bit of a maverick, according to Nick, Uncle Giles’s opinions were also, “naturally associated in the minds of most of his relatives with threat of imminent financial worry for themselves” (6-7, BM). Nick’s fascination with Uncle Giles seems connected with his worries about his own life, “I was … convinced that I had not yet succeeded in striking a satisfactory balance in my manner of conducting life” (260, BM). Nick also throws doubt upon his own role in his own shortcomings, “nothing in life can ever be entirely divorced from myriad other incidents” (254, BM).

Nick’s resignation to fate, whether good or bad, is characterized by these beliefs: his own endeavors are not very good and missed opportunities were not his fault. His desires are sometimes mentioned, but never any efforts of his own to fulfill them. In many ways, Nick seems to expect life to be handed to him. When this does not happen he remarks that, “life seems to have begun in earnest … and we … are careering uncontrollably down the slippery avenues of eternity” (274, BM). If Nick takes any actions to achieve his desires they are implied at best. There is a sort of embarrassment in his having sex with Gypsy and writing a novel. As Nick himself states, “there is a strong disposition in youth … to suppose that everyone else is having a more enjoyable time than we are ourselves” (260, BM).

In Anthony Powell’s A Buyer’s Market, new characters are a dime a dozen. They’re constantly being thrown into the mix and added to the vast number of social gatherings that seem to occur. If not careful, one could easily get drawn in by this impressive array of personae and lose focus on what matters most, in Nick’s case, himself. Throughout A Buyer’s Market, Nick is constantly changing his views on the remarkable amount of people he knows, forever deciding how he feels about them and their paths in life. Continually analyzing people, he has no time for himself and is unable to determine where and how he belongs, essentially getting left behind by all the people he could once relate with. This is most notable in Nick’s love life, or lack thereof.

At the age of twenty-two, Nick’s romantic life has yet to begin, but he is unwilling to admit that it hasn’t already started. “This affair with Barbara, although taking up less than a year, seemed already to have occupied a substantial proportion of my life.” If Barbara’s year’s worth of rejection constitutes a relationship or affair, then I suppose Nick speaks the truth, but I sincerely doubt that is the case. The affair he speaks of could be more accurately described as boyish obsession. “Oh what fun to meet like this, she had said. I felt immediately a sense of extraordinary exhilaration at this harmless remark.” This is one of many encounters where Nick desperately tries to grab hold of any possible remark or action that could potentially mean love. Much like a boy half his age, he has latched on to something he perceives to be meaningful and will not be swayed: “…seeming to retain in their paper and ink some atom of Barbara herself to be preserved, and secreted until our next meeting.” We all know what it feels like to adore someone. Nick’s fixation is something more. It is a silent refusal of how time changes people, and how they move on. He feels left behind; Barbara would be his ticket to the reality that all his peers seem to be living in.

She isn’t the only catalyst for this emotion. Jean Templar brings out a very similar feeling. At the news that she had been married abroad, Nick immediately showed sentiment much like his towards Barbara. “The sudden awareness of displeasure felt a second earlier at the apparent prosperity of Duport’s general state was nothing to the pang I suffered on hearing this piece of news.” Nick admits that he had not even though about Jean for multiple years, but the idea of her moving on, while he was left behind proved very painful for him. He begins to speculate whether they ever could have been married and what life would have been like. What Nick doesn’t realize, is that he doesn’t actually like Jean for who she is, he simply likes the idea of her, the idea of getting married and caught up with everyone else. The feeling is accentuated when the two reunite in front of a tapestry portraying newlyweds. “I was aware of an unexpected drift towards intimacy.”

Not only is Nick struggling with the idea of his own love life, but he also sees his two (debatably) closest friends, Templar and Stringham, due for marriage. The two final people with whom he could truly connect with are now moving on as well. He is alone with Widmerpool, and not thrilled about the connotations. Sleeping with Gypsy was a manifestation of all the thoughts running through Nick’s head, an attempt to catch back up to all the people who kept moving on in life. He naively assumed that his act with Gypsy would grant insight to love, the one thing holding him back. “Gypsy for her part, appeared far less impressed than myself by consciousness of anything, even relatively momentous, having occurred.” To feel that he belongs Nick will have to do more than have a one-night stand or romanticize about what could have been, and start focusing on the present.

In Anthony Powell’s A Buyer’s Market, Nick finds himself on the lookout for a spouse. Nick’s interactions with eligible women often occur at the numerous parties that take place over the course of this book. However, love seems to be a scarce commodity in the “buyer’s market” and many characters seem to settle for wealth, social status, or reputation to fill the void. Throughout the book, Nick has a series of love interests, the next always more pressing than the previous. However, Nick’s attraction to Jean and Barbara is sparked by the girl’s demonstration of interest in him, not a genuine attraction motivated by his own tastes. In short, Nick is only motivated to pursue women whom he believes are attracted to him.

Early in the first chapter, Barbara’s outgoing personality quickly ensnares Nick into a yearlong love affair. Upon Nick’s first introduction to Barbara she immediately requests that he “be quick, if [he] [is] going to ask [her] for a dance”(16). Nick admits that he was “enchanted on the spot this comportment, which [he] found far from discouraging”(16). This aggressive attitude toward Nick caused him to believe that she may have an interest in him, a feeling that only grew as time passed. When Nick and Barbara are walking in the park, Barbara exclaims, “Oh, what fun to meet like this”(17). A relatively simple comment, which nevertheless causes Nick to feel “a sense of extraordinary exhilaration”(17). Nick becomes so smitten with Barbara that he suffered “agonies of ignorance”(24) when he is unaware of her activities. After Barbara invites Nick to dine with her, Nick feels that “Jean and Suzette now seemed dim, if desirable, memories”(25) and he felt “more sure now of the maturity of [his] approach”(25) with Barbara. However, at the party Nick realizes that his relationship with Barbara, if you could can it that, has dwindled; a realization that ultimately leads him to discard all feelings for Barbara. After the sugar incident, Nick concludes that “up to that moment the situation between [Barbara and himself] had seemed to be on the way to resolving itself, on [his] side at least, rather sadly…with excusably romantic melancholy”(73). Nick’s realization of Barbara’s lack of attraction to him causes him to be “quite certain that Barbara…was not-and had never been-for [him]”(73). And so as Barbara’s interest fades so does Nick’s, leaving both characters to browse for more fitting partners.

Similarly, Nick’s renewed attraction to Jean is also a product of the attention she pays to him at Stourwater. Jean, for whom Nick always harbored a small crush, didn’t have to do much to recapture Nick’s full attention. During the dinner at Stourwater, Jean approaches Nick, recalling that he is “a friend of Peter’s…[who] came to stay with [her] years ago”(191). Nick, caught off guard by her reappearance, is “not at all sure how [he] fe[els] about [Jean], though conscious suddenly that being in love with Barbara seemed a rather amateurish affair”(192). As the conversation continued, Nick becomes “aware of an unexpected drift toward intimacy”(198). When the conversation ended, Nick’s “feelings for her [were] uncertain, but this attitude was not of indecision so much as complete unawareness”(198). Nick cannot fully commit himself to admitting attraction to Jean until he is more certain of her feelings toward him. However, for the rest of the evening he “was anxious to escape from the group and look for Jean”(213). While Nick is unable to find Jean before he leaves Stourwater, at the close of the book Nick hints that he and Jean do reunite at a later date.

In A Buyer’s Market Nick, on the quest to find love, attends several parties with the intention of meeting women. Barbara, Nick’s first love, is able to overpower Nick’s passive personality with her own aggressive flirtation, a quality that immediately draws Nick to Barbara. However, after determining that Barbara had no real interest in him, Nick concludes that his love for Barbara was a “rather amateurish affair”(192). Prospect less once again Nick is caught off guard by Jean Templer who initiated a conversation with him at Stourwater. Still uncertain of Jean’s feelings for him, Nick cannot decide what his intentions toward Jean are. In both cases, Nick only becomes interested after he believes that Barbara and Jean have demonstrated a more than friendly attitude toward him. Whether Nick’s passive nature will obstruct his conquest for Jean remains to be seen.

Mr. Deacon and Uncle Giles are both important figures to Nick. They are odd in their own ways, but strikingly similar. Despite their similarities, they represent to Nick two very different things: Uncle Giles is a constant and Mr. Deacon marks important changes in Nick’s life.

Uncle Giles is peculiar and awkward. He doesn’t have a job, and his source of income is his relatives, who are obligated to help him when he is in need. There isn’t much evidence to suggest that he leads a social life of his own apart from his family. He is also constantly concerned with the trust, as he is never in possession of much money. His family members seem to be embarrassed by him and he is not expected to be very reliable: “Uncle Giles had been relegated by most of the people who knew him at all well to that limbo where nothing is expected of a person (AQU, 16).” When, at Jenkins’ dormitory in Eaton, he lights a cigarette and takes time in putting it out, he shows a lack of regard for rules and for others, and, according to Nick, he “merely desire[d] most aspects of the familiar world to be more nicely adjusted to his own taste (6).”

Though they are related, Nick does not know Uncle Giles well, as his way of handling money had resulted in “an almost complete severance of relations (22)” between Nick’s father and him. When he reenters Nick’s life, Nick is mature enough to see him separately from his father’s opinions, and he becomes a constant in his life. He can fall back on Uncle Giles when he needs a dinner date, and Uncle Giles grows to less of an abnormality to him. However, their meetings are still irregular and sporadic. Despite his being odd, he is a benchmark that Nick uses to compare people to.

Mr. Deacon is an artist who, though not greatly in need of money, is by no means rich.. He isn’t famous, but his work is known enough to appear in the Walpole-Wilsons’ and he is known in a strange but active social web. Those who know him know him to be quirky: “He liked to describe how […] he deliberately underwent long periods of undertaking his own cooking (5),” always traveled by foot instead of train, had “an aversion, often expressed, for conduct that might be looked upon either as conventional or conservative (6),” and “his Continental visits were, in fact, more painful for managers of hotels and restaurants frequented by him; for he was a great believer in insisting absolutely upon the minute observance by others of his own wishes (5-6).” Though, unlike Uncle Giles, Nick’s parents enjoyed Mr. Deacon’s visiting, “it would not be precisely true to say that they liked him (7),” and he “was in favor of abolishing, or ignoring, the existing world entirely (6).”

Mr. Deacon is an old family friend. However, until reencountering him on the street before Mrs. Andriadis’ party, Nick is not very familiar with him, because they had moved apart a long time ago. Like Uncle Giles, Mr. Deacon is reminiscent of Nick’s family, but instead of being a constant, Nick recognizes him as change: upon their meeting in the Louvre some years previously, “Mr. Deacon’s reappearance at that season seemed […] to indicate divorce of maturity from childhood (14).” When Nick reencounters Mr. Deacon, Mr. Deacon soon becomes a close friend of Nick’s. Upon Mr. Deacon’s death, Nick reflects that they had met often in the time following their renewed acquaintance. Nick “certainly felt sad that [he] should not see Mr. Deacon again. The milestones provided by him had now come suddenly to an end (231).”

Uncle Giles and Mr. Deacon are both rather odd characters, and share many similarities in the ways they act around and feel about other people, both wanting the world to conform to them rather than conforming to the world. They both are figures from Nick’s past who have become more important to him as an adult, however, Uncle Giles never changes from his radical and unusual self and never means more or less to Nick. Mr. Deacon changes in Nick’s perspective from a distant figure from childhood, to a friend, to a figure of the past, a walking reminder of important events in Nick’s life.