A Dance to The Music of Time - Volume 5

More so than any of the previous books in the series, Cassanova’s Chinese Restaurant seems to be lacking in a consistent time frame within which the events occur. While throughout the book we have encountered occasional flashbacks, never before have we experienced such a concentration of out-of-sequence events. Yet each time that there is a serious jump in time, misfortune seems to accompany it. Powell seems to be relating the missteps in his Dance to the Music of Time with unhappiness and death.

After the visit to Maclintick’s, Nick lies awake in bed thinking of how awkward the evening has been. He describes the visit as “curiously out of focus; a pocket in time; and evening that pertained in character to life some years before” (216). The flow of time having been disrupted, Nick goes on to describe his pessimistic outlook of Maclintick’s life. Nick claims that “nothing was more surprising than man’s capacity for survival,” going on to predict that “before one could look around, Maclintick would be in a better job, married to a more tolerable wife. All the same, [Nick] felt doubtful about that happening” (216). Despite the seeming indomitable attitude Nick attributes as part of human nature, he does not honestly think that Maclintick will fit into the usual pattern. His intuition proves correct, as in the next paragraph we discover that Maclintick has committed suicide, and removed himself from the Dance entirely. In just one page of the book, Powell defines a flaw in time then quickly follows with pessimism and death.

The most obvious mismatch of time, fittingly enough appears at the very beginning of the chapter, as if to demonstrate to the reader the confusion that accompanies anachronistic events. The book opens farther along the timeline that we have travelled so far in the series, yet also regresses almost as far back as we have known Nick, to the 20s. With the storyline only having progressed as far as the late 1930s, the opening pages of the book, taking place sometime after World War II, seem the most out of place. Within the context, Nick also describes a sense of clashing time-periods. He portrays the “bombed out” Mortimer as looking like an “archaeological excavation long abandoned,” with “only a few broken milk bottles and a laceless boot recalling contemporary life” (1). He gives the bombsite an ancient atmosphere that contrasts with the present-future of after the War. The scene at the Mortimer recalls “Moreland’s memory,” (2) giving the distinct implication not only that Moreland has died, but also that he is someone whose death might be, as we later learn it is, worth caring about. Like Maclintick’s situation, the Mortimer, and everything else beneath the “cheerless Soho sky,” has a distinctly depressing air about them (2).

Every time the “music of time” skips a beat, misfortune seems to accompany it. Yet Powell has found an even more successful way of conveying that message than simply through the plot line, as he confuses the reader with the backwards chronology of the first chapter. While some may say that the insertion of Moreland was only awkward because Powell was trying to fix the oversight he had made in the previous books*, the text seems to suggest otherwise. “In the end most things in life – perhaps all things – turn out to be appropriate” (2). This comes right after the initial shock of the time-jump, and seems to be Powell’s way of encouraging the reader to muddle through the confusion until everything, “in the end,” becomes clear. By the end of the book we seem to be back on track (to use the metaphor of the “Ghost Railway” loosely) as time once again begins its slow march that was so briefly halted when the unfortunate events of the future were juxtaposed with those of the past.

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*This remark refers to a theory presented in class that Powell is forced to disrupt the chronological sequence so violently because he has recognized the problem of introducing Moreland – a character who has become Jenkins’s best friend and who yet has not been mentioned in any of the earlier books — a sort of temporal smoke-screen. – Ed.

If there is ever a need for a model of a dependent personality, Maclintick would be it. He exhibits “submissive and clinging behavior” and is unable to do “things on his … own because of a lack of self esteem” (284, American Psychiatric Association’s Diagnostic Criteria from DSM-IV) Maclintick’s codependency escalates to the point where his wife becomes the dominant figure in their marriage; and although he attempts to fight back, he is still incapable of handling her wrath. However unhealthy their relationship becomes, in her he finds meaning; and when she leaves, he can no longer find reason to go on.

“Even the worst marriage [is] better than no marriage at all,” (CCR, 7) is the Stindbergian notion that Maclintick appears to live by. Even through his wife’s relentless poking sarcasm and criticism, he returns to her for more; unable to leave her for fear of “being left alone to take care of himself” (284, DSM). “Not surprising the poor woman had to go into a home after getting her divorce” (CCR, 174), says Audrey candidly in the presence of her husband. She tells of “the sort of husband [she has] to put up with” (CCR, 175). “`Maclintick never dreams of going through the awful things he has done,'” she continues, “`It would take far too long'” (CCR, 176). She never ceases, never misses one opportunity to humiliate her husband. Yet, for every line she throws at him, he simply lets it hit him and goes on; seemingly unaffected by her condemnations. He “goes to excessive lengths” in order to receive attention from his wife, even “to the point of volunteering to do [endure] things that are unpleasant” (284, DSM). Maclintick permits his wife’s abusive behavior because he would rather be abused than be alone.  

Maclintick is not innocent in his marriage; he dishes out his own fair share of insults throughout the book. From one-liners like “You bloody bitch” (CCR, 151), to instances when third parties can feel the tension between them, Maclintick does not appear to be completely deficient of confidence; he does fight back with his wife on occasion. “He swung around in such a rage that for a moment I though he was going to strike her”(CCR, 151), Jenkins notes. Nonetheless, he never musters enough conviction to do more than rant and rave; he becomes complacent, even comfortable, in his despondent state. Maclintick has no one to blame but himself for his marital and dependency problems.

Contemporary psychiatrists would agree that Maclintick has Dependent Personality Disorder in that he lacks the self-confidence required to become his own person. Hence, he must latch onto a comforting personality, whom he improbably finds in the form of Audrey. And when Audrey leaves him, he finds himself longing for the woman who gives him meaning. In the loss of his wife, his lifeline, Maclintick finds an adversity that he cannot overcome. Maclintick does not die when he gasses himself, but rather, he chooses to die when his wife leaves him.

Applying modern-day psychological theories to the historical and fictitious characters of A Dance to the Music of Time only enhances how real they become. The people that are encountered throughout Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant appear to be a stretch of what `normal’ people are. However, knowing that Maclintick suffers from a true mental disorder verifies that the characters are not simply odd personalities; but rather, are unique, dynamic, true-to-life people.

One of the important themes discussed in Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant is marriage. This theme is introduced early on by the mention of the Strindberg quote, “Even the worst marriage is better than no marriage at all” (7). After reading his first four books, we have realized that Jenkins is a narrator who rarely lets us in on his personal life. In the fifth volume, he talks about the marriages of Moreland and Maclintick repeatedly but abstains from talking about his own: “it is doubtful whether an existing marriage can ever be described directly in the first person and convey a sense of reality… the difficulties of presenting a marriage are inordinate” (97).

However, it is possible that Jenkins is portraying his marriage through Morelands’. In both situations, the couples have lost a baby, which has obviously created a significant amount of tension. Moreland and Matilda started to “get on each other’s nerves” (104) and Moreland has also pursued some sort of an affair with Priscilla. Even though there is hardly evidence of conflicts in Jenkins’ marriage, the loss of the baby had to have had some sort of effect on his relationship with Isobel. The Maclinticks, on the other hand, do not even want a baby. “Life is bad enough without adding that worry to the rest of one’s other troubles,” says Maclintick and Audrey agrees: “Everyone seems to want babies nowadays … Maclintick and I never cared for the idea” (111).

When Jenkins first finds out about Moreland’s affair with Priscilla from Matilda, he thinks there is some mistake because of what Moreland use to say: “Nothing is more disturbing than one’s friends showing unexpected sexual tastes” (156). He chooses to cover up the situation for Moreland but he is uncomfortable with the circumstances. Futhermore, it seems that Matilda and Moreland have problems communicating because she talks about her marriage problems to Nick and Mrs. Foxe’s party instead of talking to Moreland himself.

Even though Jenkins may be having a few problems in his marriage, it is not as disastrous as the Maclinticks’. He is horrified by his visit to Maclintick’s house; horrified by the way they treat each other, horrified by how rude Audrey is. Every time Moreland visits Maclintick; he invites Jenkins to come along. Jenkins detests these visits but accompanies him anyway.

Both Moreland and Maclintick have doubts about whether happiness is possible in marriage. Matilda too says on page 157, “I have been married a few times and I sometimes begin to doubt it.” Maclintick’s separation from Audrey is an inevitable one, but when it finally occurs, Maclintick kills himself.

So then is what Strindberg considered right? Maclintick’s marriage was the only one that was doomed. The others, even though they struggle, start on an upward path as we approach the end of the book. After Maclintick’s suicide, Moreland ends his relationship with Priscilla. Also, we realize that Jenkins and Isobel share the same sense of humor and are very compatible. This is when Isobel asks Jenkins to go check on the “odd scenes” in the “next room” at Mrs. Foxe’s party. (173) When Isobel is at the nursing home; we come to know of their love for each other, even though it is understated:

           “I shan’t be sorry to come home.”
           “I shan’t be sorry for you to be home again.” (97)

This interaction, although reserved, conveys their love for each other. Jenkins gives us only a very short glimpse of his personal life, but it enough for us to know that he cares greatly about Isobel. Although the Maclintick’s marriage is doomed, the Morelands and the Jenkins’ hopefully have a brighter future ahead of them.

Some people are doomed to fail. Their lives are set on a track that leads downward. There are a variety of characters in The Dance, some that show promise and others that reek of failure. Stringham and Maclintick are two characters that are inevitably doomed.

Stringham is a character that we’ve seen throughout The Dance. We first meet him at school in A Question of Upbringing when Nick joins him for an evening snack. Nick describes him as a, “tall and dark…sad … not very happy” (8-9 AQU) boy. Stringham also, “suffered from prolonged fits of melancholy,” (9, AQU). This depression of his leads to his alcoholism, which becomes a huge problem for him. His problem becomes so bad that whenever we see him after A Question of Upbringing he is drunk. We first see him drunk at Milly Andriadis’s party in A Buyer’s Market. Nick says, “I suppose he (Stringham) had had a good deal to drink,” (145 ABM). Nick doesn’t see Stringham for some time after this. In the third volume, The Acceptance World, he runs into him at one of Le Bas’ Old Boy Dinners. Stringham shows up drunk and immediately orders more liquor. Stringham’s problem is so bad at this point that it worries Nick. “This look of his even made me feel apprehension as to what Stringham himself might do next. Obviously he was intensely … drunk” (192, TAW). That night ended with Nick and Widmerpool having to force Stringham to go to bed.

There is then a large gap over which we don’t see Stringham. We hear that Tuffy Weedon has taken over the responsibilities as a caretaker to him. We finally reencounter him again in his most pathetic state in Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant when Nick attends a party for Moreland’s symphony at Mrs. Foxe’s house. Stringham’s family treats him as if he is a doomed child. Nick says, “I felt a pang of horror at the way his family now talked of Stringham: as if he had been put away from view like a person suffering from a horrible, unmentionable disease” (145). Nick has not realized how far Stringham has descended into the horrible, unmentionable disease, alcoholism. When Stringham makes a surprised, and not welcomed, entrance Nick understands: “There could be no doubt that he was drunk” (163).

Alcoholism is not the only cause of failure in The Dance; depression is another factor. Furthermore, Stringham is not the only victim of these two forces. Maclintick is another.

We first meet Maclintick at the Mortimer in Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant. He joins Nick, Moreland, and Barnby for a meal at Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant. Maclintick doesn’t say much at all. When he does speak, Nick describes Maclintick as uttering, “words in a tone of deep pessimism” (30) pessimistic people are, “marked by little hopefulness: dark, dismal, gloomy,” as stated in the American Heritage Dictionary. From the first occasion that we meet Maclintick he seems hopeless. As their meal continues at the restaurant Maclintick only comes across as more depressed. Moreland tells a humorous story of someone that committed suicide. Barnby and Nick laugh, but Maclintick says that there is nothing funny about suicide. He says, “That is how I propose to behave myself when the time comes…I give myself at least five more years” (32). Maclintick is right that he will commit suicide, but Moreland notes at his death, “He lasted eight or nine” (218), years instead of five. Maclintick and his wife fight constantly. They seem as if they’ll kill each other at some points in the book. Then finally she leaves him. Moreland and Nick go and visit Maclintick after that incident. Maclintick is drunk, but he doesn’t seem too depressed. A few days later he kills himself.

Stringham and Maclintick each have a small problem that brings on a larger one. Stringham is depressed so he drinks to fight it. Alcohol doesn’t cure his depression; it only makes it worse. Maclintick too becomes depressed through drinking. The more alcohol he ingests the more depressed he becomes. It is a vicious cycle that they both go through.

Stringham and Maclintick both have very supportive friends in The Dance, but it doesn’t matter what others do for them. They are doomed people. Alcoholism is Stringham’s disease, while depression is Maclintick’s. Nick sees the track of life through the Ghost Railway and lying dead at the end of it is a figure, representing both Stringham and Maclintick. These two characters follow their destinies in a downward spiral in The Dance. Maclintick is the one dead, but it doesn’t look as though it will be long before Stringham is lying down beside him.

A theme of friendship dominates the fifth book of Anthony Powell’s A Dance to the Music of Time, Casonova’s Chinese Restaurant. In the first chapter Powell inlays expositional segments to establish and depict Nick’s friendship with the composer Moreland. These inlays seem confusing and painstakingly added, but they do establish the relationship between Nick and Moreland. This friendship revolves around a motif of women.

Powell begins constructing this motif in the first paragraph: at the “bombed out” Mortimer, a bar that symbolizes Nick and Moreland’s friendship, Nick notices “in niggling copybook handwriting” the word “Ladies” (1). The presence of this word at this bar symbolizes the presence of women in their friendship, and its survival of the Mortimer’s destruction perhaps symbolizes the survival of Nick’s marriage beyond his friendship with Moreland. When the Mortimer is “rebuilt in a displeasingly fashionable style,” it is no longer the haunt of “those connected with the arts, especially musicians”, but rather “crowded with second-hand-car salesmen” (9). Powell eliminates the aspect of “ladies” from it, and changes the profession of those that inhabit it because it no longer symbolizes Nick and Moreland’s friendship.

As the first scene progresses, an old singer singing a Kashmiri love song-“Pale hands I loved beside the Shalimar, / Where are you now? Who lies beneath your spell? /… Pale hands, pink tipped, like lotus buds that float/ On those cool waters where we used to dwell”- appears hobbling down the street on crutches; she reminds Nick of the day he and Moreland talked of marriage, before Nick was married (2). This character and her song symbolize Powell’s comment on marriage. Now that Nick is married, the singer, who symbolizes all women but his spouse, hobbles on crutches, crippled and seen differently by Nick. Her song describes the memory of pre-marital loves such as Jean, who Nick now sees as “Pale hands … [he] loved” (2). This comment pertains to Nick and Moreland’s friendship, because marriage and the motif of women link their friendship. Nick and Moreland’s friendship hovers around their marriages. Another example of marriage’s centrality to their relationship is when Moreland’s wife, Matilda, comes to Nick when she suspects her husband of having an affair with Priscilla. Powell uses this scene to heighten the motif of women that pervades the friendship.

The title of the book, Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant, also contributes to the motif of women and their role in Nick and Moreland’s friendship. A Casanova is “a man who is amorously and gallantly attentive to women; a promiscuous man; a philanderer” (dictionary.com). This title (derived from the name of the restaurant where Barnby askes Moreland’s old girlfriend to model for him) foreshadows the interaction between Nick and Isobel, and Moreland, Matilda and Priscilla which takes place throughout the novel.

Powell revolves around Nick and Moreland’s friendship around a motif of women in order to comment on marriage. Before they marry, each is a Casanova who pursues women that he loves, but afterwards, the former love interests become “Pale hands … loved beside the Shalimar” (2).

Jenkins’s initial view of marriage, based on his more restrained nature, continues to evolve through his marital relationship to Isobel. In the past, Jenkins has observed marriage from a third-person perspective. Because of his reserved and detached personality, he emotionally removes himself from his marriage to Isobel. The couple have just gone through the tragedy of losing their baby. Jenkins is contemplating the concept of marriage on his way to the nursing home to see Isobel, who is recuperating from her miscarriage. Hw does not discuss his emotions following the couple’s tragedy nor do hw and Isobel interact in any comforting manner regarding the devastating loss of their child. The interaction between them at the nursing home is formal and seems rehearsed. Isobel says, “I shan’t be sorry to come home” and Jenkins responds, “I shan’t be sorry for you to be home again.”(97) Their behavior toward one another is very polite in contrast to the harsh reality of the volatile emotional state one might expect after the death of a child. Jenkins shows that he now views marriage, once again from a more distant perspective, with his statement, “A future marriage or a past one may be investigated and explained in terms of writing by one of its parties, but it is doubtful whether an existing marriage can ever be described directly in the first person and convey a sense of reality.”(97) These thoughts are entering his mind as he nears the nursing home because he is unable to discuss the loss of his child with Isobel and he is unable to experience this tragedy in the present. He reveals his inability to address this highly emotional experience through his use of formal language that does not convay emotion, as well as his inablity to generate first-person thoughts on his own personal grieving state.

As Jenkins contemplates marriage on his way to the nursing home, he decides that marriage “defies definition”(97) and is not to be charted in any way. He discusses how two people who are bound in marriage bring different aspects to the relationship and each has to adapt to the other’s character. The couple forms a bond that is forever changing inside the relationship as well as forever changing as a result of outside stresses and influences. Jenkins says,” Its forms are at once so varied and yet so constant, providing a kaleidoscope, the colours of which are always changing and yet always the same”(97). With this statement he suggests that, although many of the components of the marriage remain constant, other aspects are transforming and thus taking on a new appearance, like the view of a kaleidoscope as light enters and retreats, highlighting the many varied pieces that make up the present view. Jenkins and Isobel’s marriage now has experienced a different turn of the kaleidoscope. They will be forced to adapt their current way of life to the new stresses that the world has placed on their relationship. The kaleidoscope that is their marriage, ever changing and adapting, has let in new light from the outside world and now the colours will rearrange themselves in a new pattern around the constant centre of the couple’s characters. Like something seen through the many varied pieces of the constantly changing kaleidoscope, Jenkins and Isobel’s marriage has changed, silently and quietly.

Jenkins’s views marriage as an action one takes in life, like an unwanted oppressive stage of development that will culminate in some joyful states of being. Due to his stance on marriage and his philosophy that, “the difficulties of presenting marriage are inordinate”(97), he will have a difficult time discussing the couple’s loss and either expressing himself or consoling his wife. The future that faces Jenkins and Isobel has just taken an unexpected turn and now the couple sees their marriage though a different lens. Their marriage, like the kaleidoscope, is ever changing and is always susceptible to external influences. The death of their child provides a new outlook for the future and a new light to adjust to in the present.

“Certainly the Maclinticks, between them, were enough to make anyone ill at ease,” Jenkins thinks to himself. (114) In Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant, we are introduced to three very significant marriages: Jenkins’s with Isobel, Moreland’s with Matilda, and Maclintick’s with Mrs. Maclintick. The last is by far the most devastatingly unfortunate one. Maclintick and his wife are extremely similar characters in that they are both very cynical about life, in general. This similarity, unfortunately does not change the fact that their marriage is absolutely terrible; it is impossible not to wonder why they stay together for such a duration when they hold such strong feelings of dislike for each other.

Maclintick is “indeed bad tempered” with a “habitually grumpy and disapproving” manner. (18) When Jenkins is first introduced to him, he comments that Maclintick shows no signs of politeness or any desire to get to know anyone new. He also notices that Maclintick masks any traces of “sentimentality,” although he “harboured all kind of violent, imperfectly integrated sentiments.” (19) It is clear that Maclintick has a great admiration for Hugh Moreland; however he disguises and downplays those feelings to avoid looking more sensitive than he wants people to know he is. “Maclintick’s own hag-ridden temperament also punished him for indulging in what he regarded as sentimentality.” (19) Maclintick is, quite obviously, a very depressed man, with many problems. He even expresses suicidal feelings once, which foreshadows what lies ahead for him. One of the largest demons Maclintick battles is his wife.

Mrs. Maclintick is also quite an unhappy, cynical figure. “Her formidable discontent for life” is very evident to Jenkins when he and Moreland show up at the Maclinticks for dinner. When they ring the doorbell and she answers the door, she does not even attempt to introduce herself to Jenkins, but steps aside and shrugs her shoulders. Occasionally, she calms down and acts somewhat decent, but then she returns to her “unbearable” personality. Her behavior patterns are very strange, always fluctuating up and down. She is also very temperamental. Her “dissatisfaction with life has probably reached so advanced a stage that she is unable to approach any new event amiably.” (116) She has a passionate hatred for most things in life, especially her husband. She treats him “; as if he were not present in the flesh.” (117)

Both Maclintick and Mrs. Maclintick treat each other horribly, never displaying any feelings of love towards each other. Their marriage is, actually, quite tragic. However, despite all the negative feelings, they stay together for a long while. But WHY??? As Moreland and Jenkins are leaving the Maclintick’s house, Jenkins question whether what they experience that night is a typical night for the Maclinticks. Moreland responds that “they understand each other in an odd way.” (122) It seems impossible to see any understanding between the two people. They never want to start a family; they never show any signs of being in love; they are publicly vicious and humiliating to each other; and, finally, Mrs. Maclintick walks out on Maclintick. It is a blessing, so it seems to me, and so it seems to him, at first. But then his life begins to fall apart. He loses his job and then he has some trouble with his kidneys. He begins to “grasp that fact that he will have to get his own supper.” (207)

The marriage that exists between the Maclinticks is incomprehensible. There is no way to answer why they ever got married in the first place, or why they stay together for as long as they do. But it is quite apparent that when Mrs. Maclintick leaves him, he does feel pain. Whether he feels the pain because he actually does love her in his own way or because he is so used to being married to her, is questionable. Her leaving him is, ultimately, the defeat of Maclintick. When he kills himself, it is largely based on his wife and the horrible way she treats him. Love is an unexplainable concept; something that only the people who are experiencing it can understand. Is there love between them, or have they been staying together out of habit…?

In Anthony Powell’s Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant, an important international event exists in the background: the Spanish Civil War. Erridge Tolland, the leftist Earl of Warminster, decides that he should go and aid the Spanish Republican government that was threatened by Franco’s Nationalist coup d’etat. However, since Erridge is not a Spanish citizen, he had to join one of the International Brigades. These International Brigades were funded, supplied and partially trained by the Soviet Union. Naturally, most of the members of these foreigner-comprised brigades had political ideas far to the left of centre. When Erridge returns from Spain near the end of the book, he shares very few of his experiences in Spain. However, there are some significant differences between the fictional version of the International Brigades as related by Erridge, and their real-life versions, although there are some very important similarities.

The similarities between the two versions of the International Brigades are significant because they establish the character of Republican supporters. The first and most significant similarity is that both versions of the International Brigades are filled with leftist political idealists: “… Trotskyite-Communist, an anarcho-syndicalist, and a properly paid-up Party Member…” (197). True to form, all of these putatively allied visions of communism and socialism spent much of their time debating which of these versions are better. Much of the International Brigades’ energies were spent in the conflict between the various leftist factions that all supported the Republican government. This, in turn, reduced the efficacy of an otherwise strong fighting force. Another important similarity between the real and the fictional versions of the International Brigades is that many of the participants were writers and poets, who were generally leftists in any case. Hemmingway was one of the most famous of the American participants, however, he served mainly as a war correspondent during this conflict, interviewing many of the people that were fighting. In the book, Norah bemoans the fact that: “His [Erridge’s] time in Spain seems to have been a total flop. He didn’t get up to the front and he never met Hemmingway” (198). The fact that Norah considers Erridge’s failure to get up to the front on the same level with not meeting Hemmingway shows just how important Hemmingway’s as well as other famous writers’ participation was to the liberals of the world. The similarities between Powell’s fictional International Brigade and the real world version are important because they show the conflicts between the different brands of socialism and the liberal feeling that existed among many at the time.

Despite the similarities, there are also some glaring differences. The biggest is that all of the leftist characters in the book support the Republican government. This was not actually the case, as many of the leftist groups in existence at the time were actually strict pacifists. Norah Tolland, Erridge Tolland, St. John Clarke, and J. G. Quiggin each support the war and the Republicans. Erridge goes to participate in the war, so he obviously supports the government. Norah complains: “Erridge’s time in Spain was a total flop” (198) because he never fought in the trenches on the front line. St. John also supports the Republicans, as a result of his lingering liberalism. Quiggin too supports the conflict, and even though he is disappointed in the extent of Erridge’s participation in the war, he supports the war in principle: “Alfred [Erridge] is too simple a man to embroil himself in practical affairs like fighting an ideological war” (196). These four characters are the only four that have been encountered so far who are leftists, and every one of them supports the Republican cause and wishes to help the Republican government. It is unlikely that this would be the case in real life though since many of the leftist groups were strict pacifists and would not approve of a war of any sort. Another difference is that Erridge was able to participate in a non-combatant role, as shown by Norah’s lament. Most of the people who worked behind the lines were actually female because fighting was still considered “a man’s job” at that time. There were also few non-combatant jobs in the International Brigades because they were, from the start, military formations created by the Soviet Union to aid the Republican government. The differences between the real International Brigades and the fictional version that Erridge joins are significant: a universal agreement among all leftists and Erridge’s non-combatant role in his brigade.

The differences and similarities are both great enough to make the fictional and real International Brigades appear to be very closely related, but Powell changes some aspects of them so as to make the story flow better. These differences are primarily minor differences, like having all of the four leftist characters completely agree with the rightness of the Republican fight. The odds of having that happen in real life would have been pretty long, but it is necessary for the story for all of them to agree. By agreeing with the war, we see Quiggin’s dislike of Erridge and get a little hint that he is not just mad at Erridge for appearing to bail out of the war. The real reason is one that Quiggin would certainly not approve of pure greed. Since Quiggin supports the war, Erridge’s return gives Quiggin a sound ideological reason to be mad at him that also disguises his greed. This is by no means the only character that reacts this way, as all of the other ones believe that he betrayed the Republican cause. The changes that Powell made make it so that the reader ignores the historical inaccuracies for the sake of the narrative.

Bibliography of Works Cited:

1. “Background to War” The Spanish Civil War. 20 January 2008.
2. Gómez, Fernando Fernán. Las Bicicletas Son Para el Verano. p. 66-7. Espasa-Calpe. June 1999, Madrid.

Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant opens with a scene of Nick standing in the bombed-out remnants of the Mortimer. As he stands there, a crippled woman comes down the road outside, singing,

“Pale hands I loved beside the Shalimar,
Where are you now? Who lies beneath your spell?”

This couplet, which is the opening for “A Kashmiri Love Song,” triggers Nick’s memory of a night he spent with Moreland discussing “A Kashmiri Love Song.” This memory then inspires Nick to recount all the events of CCR, in what amounts to a two hundred and fifty-page long tangent. However, there is a significant enough connection between “A Kashmiri Love Song” and CCR to set off this tangent. In Nick’s first flashback, Moreland is deeply affected by the song and says as much. In fact, this song, and also Moreland’s reaction to it, predicts the themes of CCR and sets into motion almost all the events in the book.

“A Kashmiri Love Song” is, obviously enough, a song about love; in particular it is bout the narrator remembering how much he once loved the owner of the pale hands. However, the song seems to imply that the two are no longer together. The second stanza reads

“Oh, pale dispensers of my Joys and Pains,
Holding the doors of Heaven and of Hell,
How the hot blood rushed wildly through the veins
Beneath your touch, until you waved farewell.”

The narrator loved the pale hands person very deeply, to the point where she controlled the narrator’s happiness, even his life. And then she waved farewell, and even through that loss and that pain the narrator remained transfixed, his love was so strong. The last two lines of the song say,

“I would have rather felt you round my throat,
Crushing out life, than waving me farewell!”

In his desperation, the narrator would rather receive pain from his lover than receive nothing at all.

 The song spends a lot of time talking about love lost, especially in the first and third stanzas, where the narrator mourns his current situation. And even the second stanza, which contains the main description of how amazing their love was, ends with “until you waved farewell,” signaling that it is very much over. The entire song, then, refers back to this great love that has consumed the narrator for years and will probably consume him forever. And because of that, it has a sense of bittersweet nostalgia, of remembering that which has been lost forever.

That is the exact word Moreland used to describe the song: “What nostalgia,” he said on page 3. It is that part of the song that struck him the most, how strong the narrator’s yearning for a former love was, even though it had caused him significant pain. That idea had such a profound effect on Moreland that he became “unsettled” and “in the depths of a gloom.”

At the beginning of CCR, Moreland was young and unmarried. The only one of his former relationships we learned about was the waitress, and he did not love her with half the intensity the song’s narrator showed for his mistress. One possibility is that Moreland was depressed by the song because he had never felt an emotion as strong as the one it described, and he wanted to. He had never been in love like the narrator, and that depressed him. It made him want to experience that feeling, no matter what the cost.

After explaining the sadness the song had instilled in him, Moreland said, “Let’s live for the moment.” Moreland decided then and there to find the sort of love described in the song and pursue it, even if it meant the sort of the pain the song’s narrator suffered from. That is what living for the moment meant, that he would search for love and hold onto it as hard as possible. And, actually, Moreland found that love shortly after hearing the song: he found Matilda and married her.

CCR spends a great deal of time talking about marriages, and more generally about relationships of love. There are numerous examples of this, including Nick and Isobel, the Maclinticks, the Morelands, to name a few, and, in the background, there is the matter of the king abdicating his throne to pursue love. And then, one of the final revelations of the book is that Chips Lovell and Priscilla are to be married, in a continuation of this marriage cycle. “A Kashmiri Love Song” is used to explain why Moreland, and by extension, all the other characters, decided to get married: because they wanted to find that deep love, even if it meant losing everything. CCR, then, follows up that idea and shows what happens after the leap is taken, after the characters decide to risk everything and get married. Some of them, like Nick, succeed; others, like Maclintick, suffer the same fate as the song’s narrator; but they all took the same risk that is marriage.

In Anthony Powell’s fifth installment to the Dance to the Music of Time series, Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant, an array of new characters are introduced, including Hugh Moreland, who becomes Nick’s best friend. What sets this novel apart from the previous four is its opening scene. Unlike the first four books, which begin chronologically, Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant opens in the “present day” of 1959 (or 1974, depending on your point of view) and then sends us back to a time when Nick was still infatuated with Jean Duport, a time before At Lady Molly’s ends. Powell does this to show that Nick is looking at his past through older, wiser, and more mature eyes.

Each of the previous four novels opens chronologically and anecdotally: A Question of Upbringing opens with the image of Widmerpool running stoically through the mist, A Buyer’s Market opens with a description of Mr. Deacon’s artwork and a dinner party, The Acceptance World opens with Nick going to visit Uncle Giles, and At Lady Molly’s opens with a description of Aylmer Conyers, and old family friend. All of these are written within the framework of the novel chronologically and without any sense of despair or melancholy.

From the first sentence, we know that Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant is not going to be a happy, upbeat novel: “Crossing the road by the bombed-out public house on the corner and pondering the mystery which dominates vistas framed by a ruined door, I felt for some reason glad the place had not yet been rebuilt.” (1) Powell goes on to describe the “vestigial remains of the Mortimer,” (2) the pub in which Nick met Moreland, who is, in the “present day”, dead. The destroyed pub where Nick and Moreland first met represents their shattered friendship; it stands almost as a monument to his memory, scored by the beautiful Kashmir love song sung by a crippled woman. We are told before we ever meet Moreland that he will die in the near future; this is something Powell has not done with any other characters. This foreshadowing of Moreland’s fate only reinforces the importance Moreland will have on Nick’s life.

By making the opening of Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant so drastically different from the previous novels, Powell instills an aura of different expectation for the reader. Previously, the most extreme moments in Nick’s life consisted of someone dumping sugar on someone else’s head, or Uncle Giles coming over to ramble about the Family Trust. Powell’s image of a shelled-out pub in the first sentence of the novel illustrates how different Nick’s life will be, and how important it was to set the first scene in the present in order to highlight the lasting effect on Nick’s life of the events set in motion in the story.

Not everything in the novel is depressing; in fact Moreland is quite the opposite, but Nick does face a number of imposing challenges, such as infidelity involving a number of parties, including Moreland, and several deaths, including Maclintick’s suicide. Not only are the challenges more daunting, but Nick’s ability to make sense of them is strikingly more mature. In response to Moreland’s reaction to Maclintick’s suicide, Nick says, “I think Moreland’s realisation was in the fact of Maclintick’s desperate condition; Maclintick’s inability to regulate his own emotional life; Maclintick’s lack of success as a musician…. By taking his own life, Maclintick had brought about a crisis in Moreland’s life too.” (221) Nick is psychoanalyzing his friends.

Nick is able to psychoanalyze himself as well, and it is shown that he has had this ability for quite some time. Until Nick meets Isobel, he has an infatuation with Jean Duport and we all assume he wants to marry her. However, when Moreland asks him whom he would marry if he were legally allowed three wives, Nick, although “these were the days when [he] loved Jean Duport,” (6) offers three random names. “To tell the truth, in spite of what I felt for Jean, marriage, although looming up on all sides, still seemed a desperate venture to be postponed almost indefinitely.” (6) Nick is aware that his crush on Jean is nothing more than a crush, not a desire for marriage, but we only learn of this in Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant.

The darkness of the novel is no coincidence. Powell’s approach to this novel is different because he knows what it is like to lose one’s best friend. His best friend Constant Lambert, the obvious model for Moreland, died about eight years before Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant was written. This novel is a tribute to Lambert, and Powell is able to set it apart from the others by making us feel his own loss through Nick.

Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant’s opening scene is so different from the previous four that we cannot help but notice the change. It seems bittersweet to watch Nick gain a best friend, but to learn so quickly that friend will die before his time. Nick learns to look at everything around him with a ripened view of the world, and in return, Powell throws increasingly dark obstacles in his way. We can expect this novel to be the turning point in Nick’s life; Nick has become a man.

The conversation between Nick Jenkins and Moreland in the opening moments of Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant brings to light an interesting expulsion of Nick’s own opinion on the idea of marriage as well as its merits in general. After choosing his three wives, Jenkins reveals that “in spite of what I felt for Jean, marriage, although looming up on all sides, still seemed a desperate venture to be postponed almost indefinitely.” (6 CCR) An off-hand comment is made shortly after regarding the thoughts of one of the popular play-writers of the time, Johan August Strindberg, about marriage. Jenkins recounts that “Strindberg considered even the worst marriage better than no marriage at all.” (7 CCR) There is no further discussion of the subject between Moreland and Jenkins. Strindberg’s statement offered by Nick is used as a springboard for the reader to further analyze the marriages that take place in Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant.

There are two new marriages that the reader encounters in this book. The first which we are brought into, albeit it very briefly, is that between Maclintick and Mrs. Maclintick. While we learn more about this relationship later, its introduction is noteworthy. With the party gathered around the bar and deciding to move off to dine together, Maclintick must inform his wife of the decision. Without any hesitation, Moreland offers that “`There will be a row about that.'” (27 CCR) Right away one of the first details we learn about Maclintick is of the presence of some tension in his relationship with his wife. This provides enough context to see there will be further problems between the two which we visit in subsequent chapters.

After this brief introduction, the reader is exposed to Maclintick and his wife in a more personal situation inside their home. Moreland is quick to give an analysis of Maclintick as a man on their way over. “`He is disappointed of course.’ `About himself as a musician?’ `That – and other things.'” (106 CCR) This other thing Moreland is referring to is undoubtedly his failing marriage with Audrey who is only “`Like a wife.'” (106 CCR) further stating that “`I think he hates them (women) really – only likes whores.'” (107 CCR) These statements lead one to conclude that Maclintick would agree with Mr. Strindberg’s belief that a terrible marriage is better than none at all. Maclintick could easily be out perusing with these whores that he likes so much more than his wife, but something as slight as the idea of marriage appeals to him and keeps him interested.

Perhaps it is because he is able to satisfy his “deeply romantic, hidden away sentiments” which is “his passionate, carefully concealed side.” (107 CCR) Upon meeting the couple and observing their interaction it is nearly impossible to see how Maclintick could have any feelings of passion for the woman. Nick observes that “…certainly the Maclinticks, between them, were enough to make anyone ill at ease.” (114 CCR) When everyone in the Maclintick house sits down for dinner the couple sets into a small row, one that makes Nick worry “I thought she might pick up one of the battered table knives and stick it into him.” (121 CCR) The mere presence of this couple makes one feel uncomfortable. This is to saying nothing of the shouting match that will ensue at Mrs. Foxe’s party for Moreland’s new symphony later in the book.

At the party Audrey embarks on a winding rant about her husband’s untidiness and his lack of motivation to dress up and look respectable. Maclintick overhears all of this and casually lets it slide off his shoulders, but when Mrs. Maclintick reveals her husband’s opinion on Moreland’s piece, he can no longer take her slandering and explodes, leading Nick to think that he is going to strike her as Maclintick’s rage rises past its boiling point. Maclintick goes on to call his wife a “bloody bitch” (151 CCR) and threatens to hurt her if she does not shut up. The verbal assault is complete when, talking about Moreland’s wife, Matilda, he says “`I only wish I had a wife with half Matilda’s sense.'” This would seem to be the last straw for Mrs. Maclintick, although she remains masterfully composed. She will go on to run off with Carolo, leaving Maclintick to remain alone and eventually commit suicide. After all the bickering she has put up with, her actions are in disagreement with Strindberg and she believes that the worst marriage is not better than no marriage at all.

The second relationship we learn of is that between Moreland and the actress who he had been pursuing for some time, Matilda Wilson. When leaving Maclintick’s house Moreland says “`Married life is unquestionably difficult'” (123 CCR) At that time we learn he and Matilda are expecting their first child, but things are not going well with the birth and “It is costing a fortune.” (99 CCR) However, he thinks that once the baby is born things will return to relative normalcy. The debacle with his child’s pending birth upsets Moreland to some degree and we later find out that their baby dies which puts him in a worse way making him more depressed about the marriage.

This couple also experiences their own share of stress, although it is not quite as easily observed. Nick begins to speculate that there is an affair going on between Moreland and Priscilla Tolland when Priscilla asks if she may accompany Isobel and Nick to the opening of Moreland’s new piece. We do not learn any more about this secret affair until the party after the work has been performed.

It is at the party that Nick speaks with Matilda and she addresses the subject of a possible affair. Right at the beginning of this conversation she states “`She is very attractive. But I don’t know her as well as Hugh does.” (155 CCR) Nick “suddenly felt horribly uncomfortable” (155 CCR) as soon as this remark had come to pass. While Matilda does not make any direct reference to any knowledge of an affair she asks Nick “`Is it fun to be married to anyone?'” (157 CCR) Nick fears that “Generalisations about married life could easily turn to particularisation about Moreland and Priscilla.” (157 CCR) Matilda either has actual knowledge of an affair between the two, or is just speculating, but by either hand, she is not perturbed by knowing this. Up until the end of Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant we are unaware of their marriage being disturbed as a result of the possible affair. This leads the reader to think that both Moreland and Matilda believe that although their’s is not the worst marriage, it has its flaws but is still better than no marriage at all.

Marriage plays a prevalent role in Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant. The introduction of Strindberg’s philosophy regarding marriage at the beginning of the book gives the reader a stance to take regarding the two new marriages encountered. Based on the evidence from this book, when only one of the spouses is able to embrace Strindberg’s ideals, the marriage will fail as is the case with Maclintick and Audrey. When both are willing to accept this way of life, some level of success will be achieved in the marriage, as is the case with Moreland and Matilda. There are many other marriages that can be analyzed using Strindberg’s simple statement leaving the reader and perhaps the characters to consider their commitment before saying “I Do.”

Throughout Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant, two socially-forbidden relationships develop, each of which has various effects on those individuals around them. The reader is given separate accounts of each affair through Nick. While they both develop in much the same way, Nick becomes very concerned with Hugh Moreland’s affair while he continues to be a bystander in Audrey Maclintick’s. Because of this, the reader is able to get an in-depth look at the effects of both affairs: one internal (within a relationship) and the other external (affecting those close to the people having the affair). Both are socially unacceptable, but one ends with disastrous consequences. The reader is able to watch the affairs developing from the beginning with relatively some degree of similarity, and continue on into two drastically different situations with varying levels of involvement.

Audrey Maclintick is introduced in Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant as a character who is not too fond of her marriage or her husband. They are fighting a lot, she isn’t taking care of her husband, and she doesn’t care about him the way she used to. Moreland is often fond of saying how he would go to visit the Maclinticks because it relieved some of the tension in the house. Even when Moreland and Nick arrive at the Maclintick home, Mrs. Maclintick is very removed and rude: “When she opened the door to us, her formidable discontent with life swept across the threshold in scorching, blasting waves,” (pg. 108). Due to this unfortunate marriage predicament, Mrs. Maclintick is very open to any form of flirtation and attention from other men, which causes some foreshadowing to her affair. This side of her is evident at the Moreland’s symphony party, as Charles Stringham takes it upon himself to talk to a woman he “found wholly unusual,” (pg. 168). Immediately, Nick notices a change in Mrs. Maclintick’s demeanor: “The effect on Mrs Maclintick of this unconventional approach was electric. She flushed with pleasure, contorting her body into an attitude of increased provocation,” (pg. 167). In fact, Mrs. Maclintick, “was tamed, almost docile, under his treatment,” (pg. 169). Actions like these suggest that Mrs. Maclintick is looking for something to alleviate the strains in her marriage.

So, it isn’t a surprise when Mrs. Maclintick’s actually has an affair with Carolo. Nick is not even that shocked to find out that Mrs. Maclintick runs off with Carolo, especially after Matilda lets it slip that she was married to Carolo before Moreland. Before the affair, Carolo is living with the Maclinticks, and through the powers of Nick’s observation, the reader sees Mrs. Maclintick dote on Carolo more so than her husband. Nick comments to the fact that she speaks to Carolo “with a greater warmth than she had shown until that moment,” (pg. 118). Nick even catches a glance “that was almost affectionate,” (pg. 118). This affair starts off enjoyable, and then turns serious when Mrs. Maclintick runs away with Carolo, leaving Maclintick behind to pick up the pieces. It is that next step in the relationship that she takes that has the most problems, and the most unforeseen consequences.

While some think that the affair is beneficial to Maclintick, it ends up taking a greater emotional toll than anyone expected. According to Matilda, “But Carolo’s chief interest is in making conquests. He doesn’t much mind who it is. I shouldn’t wonder if he doesn’t run after Audrey Maclintick. Probably Maclintick would be glad of someone to keep her quiet and take her off his hands. What a bitch she is,” (pg. 159). She foreshadowed what was to come, but unfortunately predicted the wrong outcome. The result of Mrs. Maclintick’s action is Maclintick’s suicide. Although he predicts he will commit suicide earlier in the chapter, Mrs. Maclintick’s infidelity is what pushes him over the edge, as he begins to loose control after Moreland and Nick’s visit. He says, “But anyways it takes a bit of time to realize that all the odds and ends milling about round one are the process of living. I used to feel with Audrey: `this can’t be marriage” – and now it isn’t,” (pg. 212).

The other infidelity in Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant is between Moreland and Priscilla Tolland. The first suspected signs begin at Mrs. Foxe’s party for Moreland, just like Mrs. Maclintick’s affair. Priscilla and Moreland hit it off and then continued to meet each other. Like Carolo and Mrs. Maclintick’s affair, the beginning of their interaction is flirty and fun. Nick speculates at the party: “If (Moreland) had fallen in love with Priscilla – the evidence for something of the sort having taken place had to be admitted – it was, I thought, just like him to prefer listening to this performance to keeping his girl to himself in some remote part of the room,” (pg. 173). It seems that Moreland needed a distraction since he lost his child a few hours after birth. After speaking with Matilda, Nick realizes that Moreland’s marriage, “had dislocated … more seriously than anyone had supposed from the outside,” (pg. 160) because of the death. While Moreland occupied his time by going to parties and out to dinner with friends, his wife just wanted to stay home. As Nick begins to pick up clues to the affair, including the ticket that Moreland gave Priscilla to his symphony and Priscilla’s touchy phone call with his wife, he begins to feel awful about thinking negatively about his friend: “I suddenly felt horribly uncomfortable, as if ice-cold water were dripping very gently, very slowly down my spine, but as if, at the same time, some special circumstance prevented admission of this unaccountable fact and also forbade any attempt on my own part to suspend the process; a sensation to be recognized, I knew well, as an extension of that earlier refusal to face facts about Moreland giving Priscilla the concert ticket,” (pg. 155).

On the contrary to the result of Mrs. Maclintick’s infidelity, Moreland’s affair ends by bringing him and his wife even closer. After realizing that he was bringing more hurt into the relationship rather than trying to alleviate some of the tension, he breaks it off with Priscilla. When Moreland finally admits his affair to Nick, Nick comments: “By taking his own life, Maclintick had brought about a crisis in Moreland’s life too. He had ended the triangular relationship between Moreland, Priscilla, and Matilda,” (pg. 221). Moreland starts to focus back on his wife, especially after seeing how Mrs. Maclintick’s affair ends, and he emphasizes the fact that he and Priscilla never had sex. Matilda seems more than overjoyed to have her husband back to herself, and her marriage to be on the right course again after a very rocky patch.

Both affairs start out as social anxieties to everyone but those involved. Love becomes a tangled web of lies and deceit, with speculations thrown in by people like Chips Lovell. Unfortunately for Maclintick, his wife’s affair was something that he could not understand or cope with, and it lead to his suicide. On the contrary, Moreland’s affair was a matter of distraction. His wife stood strong next to him, waiting for him to come back. When he finally realized the errors of his ways, he came back to her, and their marriage became stronger than before. These two radically different affairs in high class social situations take completely different turns, although they both started out as a supposedly innocent flirtation.

When an article “appears in the evening paper stating that Maclintick’s body had been found in a gas-filled room… there is no shock about it.(217)” Maclintick’s suicide does not come as a surprise to other characters in A Dance To the Music of Time , as there are many indications earlier in the novel that suggest his unhappiness. It is, however, impossible to pinpoint exactly what caused him to take his own life. According to www.suicide.org, the most common cause of suicide is untreated depression. Many factors usually contribute to this depression, ranging from relationship problems, such as a divorce, separation, or breakup, to a serious loss, such as one of a job, house, money, or even loss of hope. Maclintick displays these symptoms in many different scenes throughout Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant.

Maclintick is first introduced in the novel as a music critic, “with a physical heaviness already threatening obesity in early middle age. (17)” From the beginning of the book, Powell lets us know that he is not the friendliest character. When out to dine with Barnby and friends, Nick describes how “Maclintick had hardly spoken since we left the Mortimer. Now he uttered these words in a tone of deep pessimism, as if, so far, he resented every moment of the evening.(30)” This description implies that Maclintick fails to even make an effort to have a good time at dinner. He is also described as having “unconcealed distaste (17)” of the conversation and never seems to have any positive input. Although it is clearly not reasonable to infer from these lines that Maclintick is a pessimist and will therefore commit suicide later on in the book, it contributes to his image of having an untreated depression.

Along with the few indications of depression early in CCR, there are also many subtle signs that suggest Maclintick’s suicide had been long planned. While Nick Jenkins, Barnby, Moreland, and Maclintick are out to eat, Moreland jokingly brings up a story about a man who killed himself, who “need not have made away with himself for six (more) months. Barnby and Nick laugh at this anecdote, while Maclintick did not smile. At the same time he seemed struck by the story.(32)” The fact that the mention of suicide affects him here may be foreshadowing of what is to come. The most obvious indication of Maclintick’s plan for ending his own life appears when he mentions, ” I give myself at least five more years at the present rate. That should allow me time to finish my book.” Moreland somewhat ignores this comment and proceeds to explain how be believes that professional seducers don’t have time to commit suicide. Nick and Barnby also disregard this comment and carry on with the conversation.

In the middle of the book, Maclintick’s friends start becoming a little less oblivious to the situation. Moreland convinces Nick to accompany him on visit to Maclintick`s , saying, “if nobody ever goes there, I am afraid Maclintick will jump into the river one of these days, or hang himself with his braces after a more than usually grueling domestic difference. (106)” When Nick resists, arguing that Maclintick is not very fond of him, Moreland assures him that, “Maclintick does not like anyone…He is a very melancholy man. (105)”During the visit at the Maclintick’s house, Nick notes that “despondency, as usual seemed to have laid an icy grip on him (Maclintick)… he wore bedroom slippers and was pulling at a pipe. (110)” This despondency may be taken as one of the symptoms of depression. At this point in the book, however, his friends do not take it seriously enough, as Nick jokingly agrees to accompany Moreland, “since he presented it as a matter of life and death. (106)” He was not aware that it actually was.

While Maclintick shows all these small signs of depression, his marriage does not help the situation. Moreland simply puts it as, “Maclintick does not get on too well with his wife, (105)” and that, “certainly the Maclinticks, between them, were enough to make anyone ill at ease.” (114) When the couple invites Nick and Moreland for dinner, “All the time she treated Maclintick as if he were not present in the flesh.” (117) They fight about many things, mainly politics, making their guests uncomfortable. Louis Dublin, a sociologist, states that suicide is much less common among married people, especially those with children, than it is among single or widowed individuals. He feels isolation from friends, family, and socially accepted morals must all contribute to suicidal behavior.” [1] “Almost all other sociologists will agree that destruction of a dyad, or two-person group, is often a cause.” [2]The Maclinticks’ marriage is soon after destructed, as Nick finds “a note when he returned home saying she had gone for good. (with Carolo) (204)” When Jenkins and Moreland visit again, they find him to be in a troubling state. “The sitting-room was unspeakably filthy, dirty tea cups…an atmosphere of unmade beds and unwashed dishes was dominated by an abominable, indefinable smell.(206)” From this description it can be inferred that Maclintick does not deal well with the breakup, which is another one of the main factors causing his death.

In the fourth chapter, Maclintick’s friends finally realize something is wrong. Although they do not take his condition seriously at the beginning of the CCR, they get worried when things start looking rocky for him. Although neither Jenkins nor Moreland particularly want to pay him a visit, Jenkins persuades Moreland to come and drop in with him. He then explains on the phone, “I’ve been talking to Gossage about Maclintick. We are a bit worried. A visit might cheer him up. (203)” Moreland then informs Nick that Maclintick’s wife has walked out on him and that “on top of that, he lost his job.(203)” It is only “true compassion for Maclintick’s circumstances that brought Moreland to his house that night… It was an act of friendship.(206)” Throughout the visit, the three men talk about wide range of things, particularly jobs and musical journalism, “but sooner or later Maclintick abandoned the subject in hand, always returning to the matter of his wife.(208)” As they left, Nick sums up the situation in one sentence- “He is in rather a mess.(215)” Moreland replies, “Maclintick is in a bad way… It is no good pretending he isn’t. I don’t know where it will end…. (215)”

Maclintick takes this matter into his own hands, ending his life by gassing himself just a few days after Nick and Moreland`s visit. It is proven to be very rare that someone dies of suicide because of one cause. [3] In CCR, Maclintick commits this act because of a plethora of causes all adding up . Many factors contributed to his depression, all leading to an unfortunate end result.

[1] http://www.healthyplace.com/Communities/Self_Injury/bloodred/essays/suicide2.html
[2] http://www.healthyplace.com/Communities/Self_Injury/bloodred/essays/suicide2.html
[3] http://www.suicide.org/suicide-causes.html

As one of the few students entering the class in the winter term, I began reading Dance to the Music of Time with Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant. Delving into this epic novel one-third of the way through confronted me with a seemingly disadvantageous viewpoint. With each new chapter, references to past events elude me and I am forced to depend on my classmates’ interpretations of these scenes. While I do accept these pieces of information, I cannot help but wish that I could analyze these scenes independently. Beyond inhibiting my ability to analyze events and characters, this deficit of knowledge has caused much of Powell’s humor to evade me. Overcoming my frustration, I realize that this seemingly negative experience has gifted me the innocence to read this book without prejudice. I cannot judge the characters based on past misdemeanors or previous accomplishments. This superficial reading grants me, and the few others who have begun the dance mid-way through, the ability of honest character judgment. While I still lack key components of the story, I realize that I can indeed depend on my classmates’ insights and recollections as a foundation and use my innocence to enhance their own readings.

Moreland’s post-mortem introduction on the second page did not strike me as anything extraordinary. Unaware that Nick had never introduced a character in this way, I continued reading without an additional thought. During the class discussion following chapter one, an emphasis was placed on this statement: “As an accompaniment to Moreland’s memory music was natural, even imperative…” (2,CCR). The class believed this post-mortem introduction to be significant and thus spent a large portion of the novel searching for a reason why Moreland’s character justified such a grand entrance. Even after learning that this type of introduction had never happened before, I could not grasp the significance. I continued reading and learning about Moreland based solely on his actions and dialogue throughout the novel and without hype about him. As the story progresses, Moreland does become a prominent character as one of Jenkin’s close friends. Simultaneously, however, he does not represent a great man or seem to possess a higher morality than the others as his affair with Priscilla Tolland demonstrates. Perhaps in later novels Moreland’s role will develop and his importance will become clearer. Until this point, reading about him without an assumed importance allows the reader to interpret Moreland’s actions without bias and observe the development of Jenkin’s and his friendship.

As the story continues, much of Powell’s subtle humor sneaks past me, unnoticed and underappreciated. This dampens my overall reading experience and creates an exclusive feeling. As if I am on the outside of a group of old friends and acquaintances, I feel uninterested at times. Most notably, I recall reading quickly past the section of Mr. Deacon’s remarks regarding Norman Chandler’s sexual orientation. Mr. Deacon relays the information that “another theatrical friend of [his]-rather a naughty young man” will be arriving at the Mortimer shortly for a business deal (17, CCR). Later in this chapter references to Max Pilgrim and Norman Chandler’s friendship do not outwardly suggest a romantic connection. Without the previous knowledge of Mr. Deacon and Max Pilgrim’s homosexuality, I simply regarded these characters as names and, lacking background, I did not attempt to infer more about their characters. This particular incident did not hinder my understanding of the story; however, I did lose Powell’s intended wit.

Perhaps slightly less amused with the happenings of Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant than my classmates and certainly less informed regarding the characters, I read on to meet Erridge. He faces brutal ridicule from the other characters and serves as the subject of many satirical remarks, which may affect the reader’s perception of him. The class introduced him to the newcomers as the “screw-up” of the Tolland family, the son who journeys off to the Far East with Mona, and the son who struggles to manage his estate. Priscilla Tolland states simply, “Erry is mad, of course” (70, CCR). As always, I listened and accepted, though somewhat hesitantly, this information. Continuing the reading, I found myself drawn to Erridge’s political passion, pacifistic sentiment, and bravery. “Devoting himself to his leftwing political interests,” Erridge ventures to Spain to support his fellow liberal activists and soldiers in the Spanish Civil War (59, CCR). This deed represents not only Erridge’s political conviction but also his courage in actually backing up his rhetoric with action. I further respect Erridge for his traveling, perhaps as means for expanding his global perspective, and having the strength to live a socially isolated life at Thrubsworth.

Through my limited experience of this novel, I have learned that viewing my late start as a disadvantage further reduces the potential influence this novel can have on me. Open-mindedness will benefit my future readings. My innocence, slowly diminishing as I read, grants me the clarity of mind to make fair judgments and offer a fresh perspective to the class. Although I have learned to call Powell “pole” and not “pow-ell” and to read St. John Clarke as “singeonclark,” I am still far from accustomed to the world of Nick Jenkins and am yet to feel as if his friends are my own acquaintances. As I continue reading and diving further into Powell’s epic novel, my initial “disadvantage” continues to disappear, allowing the events and characters of the story to imprint a literary experience in my memory.

In Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant, Maclintick and Moreland’s friendship is lopsided; Moreland being Maclintick’s best friend and Maclintick only being one of Moreland’s friends. Moreland feels the need to take care of Maclintick, who often speaks of suicide, by visiting him at his home. He knows that Maclintick and Audrey, his wife, will fight in front of him when he visits, and he knows that it will make him uncomfortable, but he keeps going because he thinks knows how important his visits are. Moreland notices that suicide is an inevitability for Maclintick, but he does not take the threat as seriously as somebody would today. Maclintick is a better person than he appears, and Moreland is the only person that knows it.

Moreland knows that Maclintick needs him. Maclintick almost never likes anybody, but Moreland looks past how he acts towards others and remains a loyal friend. Although they do not see each other regularly, with Moreland not even knowing that Carolo had moved into Maclintick’s house, Maclintick values the time they get to spend together. Even within the midst of a fight with his wife “The prospect of enjoying Moreland’s company for the rest of the evening evidently cheered him.” (114). The first time Nick meets Maclintick, he recognizes that he likes Moreland more than most people. Nick says,

“I never think Maclintick much likes me.”

“Likes you?” said Moreland. “What egotism on your part. Of course he doesn’t like you. Maclintick doesn’t like anybody.”

“He likes you.” (105)”

Moreland feels obligated to spend time with Maclintick. Even though they are friends, Moreland would not have dragged Nick along to Maclintick’s house if he had not been worried that the night would be made awkward by an argument, and he would not have gone if he did not think Maclintick needed him. It is not that Moreland does not want to spend time with Maclintick; he just knows that his marriage is not strong and any companionship that Moreland can offer will help. Spending time with Maclintick is Moreland’s way of helping.

Moreland and Maclintick have a strong bond, even though they do not have much in common. Moreland is a well mannered musician, and Maclintick is an impolite music critic who constantly argues with his wife about trivial topics, making outsiders feel uneasy. It seems unlikely that a sociable musician and a grouchy music critic could become friends, but Moreland and Maclintick have a special connection. They are able to get along with each other because Maclintick’s identity is not centered around his job. Maclintick speaks so little about his work that upon hearing that he got fired, Nick responds by saying “I never thought of him as having a job (203)”.

Maclintick is not as selfish as he seems. He is always getting into arguments with Audrey and never shows any signs of remorse for making a situation awkward, but he is not as self obsessed as it appears. The seemingly loveless marriage that he and his wife share leads him to alcohol, which alters his mind frame. He thinks that drinking will help make his problems go away but it only makes things worse, causing him to look like he is not in control of his life. Maclintick’s own suicide is brought on by his being charitable and letting Carolo stay in his house. Maclintick does not like living with Carolo, but he lets him stay because it is what his wife wants. Even in killing himself he is considerate; not doing it the night he sees Nick and Moreland. He does not want to leave Moreland with the guilt that he was the last person to see him alive.

Moreland does not know how depressed Maclintick actually is. Maclintick gives himself “five more years at the present rate (33)”, when he is with Nick, Barnby and Moreland in the Mortimer but lasts “about eight or nine (218)”, as noted by Moreland. He thinks that five years will give him enough time to finish his book, but losing his wife is what finally makes Maclintick commit suicide. He acts as though he cares more about his book than his wife, but that is not true. He tries to make people think that he does not love his wife, but he just does that to make others feel more comfortable with their fighting. If his wife leaving him makes him kill himself, then he must care for her, and if he cares for her he must be more upset about his marriage then he lets on. Moreland does not know how much Maclintick loves his wife, and that is his main problem. If Moreland knew that Maclintick actually cared so strongly for Audrey, he would have been able to help Maclintick through the divorce. Instead, Maclintick keeps his secret and winds up taking his own life.

Moreland is Maclintick’s only real friend, and it is because he is the only person that can see through the hate that arises as a result of his marriage. Moreland knows that Maclintick is actually a thoughtful, considerate person, but when he is with Audrey his attitude towards everything changes. Maclintick’s depression causes him to be more hostile, and push people further away, leading to only having two friends to take care of his things when he dies. Moreland thinks he knows what type of person Maclintick is, but he only knows half the story. All of Maclintick’s problems are a result of his feelings toward his wife, but Moreland does not know about those feelings, which makes it impossible for him to give Maclintick what he needs. Moreland did all he could for Maclintick, because he was able to look past his shortcomings and focus on friendship.

One of the many definitions of marriage in the Oxford English Dictionary states that marriage is, “an intimate union; a merging or blending of two things” (OED Online). As when dancing, two people twirl and spin together, blurring into one single soul. A song lasts all of five minutes, while a marriage is supposed to last forever. When the music stops, the intimate union ends. The struggle with marriage is to find a constant rhythm that keeps each member gripping one another as they spin, whirling into the future. Throughout Anthony’s Powell’s A Dance to the Music of Time, Nick has been attempting to put the intricacies of this eternal dance into words. Some marriages are mere waltzes, a temporary upbeat with a quick crescendo into divorce, as seen with Maclintick and Matilda. Nick is able to objectively describe the intricacies of other marriages because he is merely an outsider. As Nick has now found his partner on the dance floor, he is struggling with the challenge of conveying the importance of his own marriage in writing. The lack of detail about Nick’s married life is due to his deep love and respect for Isobel and the realization that marriage is something that, with or without objectivity, defies definition.

Nick is upfront with the difficulty he has found writing about his marriage to Isobel saying, “it is doubtful whether an existing marriage can ever be described directly in the first person and convey a sense of reality. Even those writers, who suggest some sort of the substance of married life best, stylise heavily, losing the subtlety of the relationship at the price of a few accurately recorded, but isolated aspects” (CCR 97). As Nick is writing about his wife’s miscarriage in the past, we know that he is still happily married to Isobel far into the future. Nick believes that his relationship is much more than words on paper. Even though writing is his profession, isolated events and comments do not do his loving marriage justice. Just as Nick fails to write directly about himself, he too is incapable of writing about a person who has become so intimate a part of him.

Throughout A Dance to the Music of Time Nick tries desperately to maintain objectivity in his observations and descriptions of others, only relaying the perceived facts received from others. Other characters’ marriages hold a substantial place in his novels: “To think at all objectively about one’s own marriage is impossible, while a balanced view of other people’s marriages is almost equally hard to achieve with so much information available, so little to be believed… even casting objectivity aside, the difficulties of presenting marriage are inordinate” (CCR 97). Nick is able to detail other marriages because of the plethora of information available to him. He never interprets it or passes serious judgment; he is simply retrospectively recounting events. Nick is still married to Isobel when he is writing this novel, just as Powell is still happily married to his wife, Lady Violet. This prevents an objective historical perspective which Powell has easily achieved for every other character and relationship in the book.

Others’ lives are much easier to talk about for Nick because he appreciates how his own life is “at once so varied, yet so constant, providing a kaleidoscope, the colours of which are always changing, always the same” (97). It is much easier to describe the “moods of a love affair,” as with Jean Templer, “the contradictions of friendship,” as with Stringham, and “the jealousy of business partners,” such as between Members and Quiggin (97). These are all events which Nick has detailed ad nauseam, “these are all in their way to be charted” (97). To Nick marriage is infinitely more complicated, which is revealed by innumerable chapters through which Nick has attempted to grasp this topic. Now that Nick has found Isobel he has put his mind to rest, “Marriage, partaking of such-and a thousand more-dual antagonism and participations, finally defies definition.” (97)

At first I thought there was an underlying psychological reason for Powell’s withholding the details of Nick’s marriage, subconscious repression or marital troubles coming first to my mind. I was incorrect. Both Powell and Nick are deeply in love. Leaving out the most important part of his life in his fictional autobiography, Powell has performed a deep act of love and respect for his own wife. Powell cannot describe Nick’s marriage to Isobel because he is still married to his own wife and cannot gain distance from his own situation. There is no way to objectively and wholly describe the complexities of marriage, let alone while he is still involved in it. In the intricacies of love the dictionary has failed us, for marriage can not be defined in three simple words: “an intimate union” (OED Online). Because the feeling and significance of matrimony cannot be described in literary terms, we must all take part in the Dance to find our partner for the symphony of life.

Oxford English Dictionary: Online. Marriage, n. Oxford, Oxford University Press, Dec. 2007, http://dictionary.oed.com/cgi/entry/00302422?single=1&query_type=word &queryword=marriage&first=1&max_to_show=10.

Death is a part of the natural order; wherever there is life, there must be death. Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant is largely marriage, which bring with it new life. Powell, following the laws of nature, necessarily includes the death of several characters. St. John Clark, Moreland’s baby, and McClintick all die during the book, and although they happen in other books, Mr. Deacon’s and Moreland’s deaths are also mentioned. Death can be unexpected, as is the case with several characters in Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant , and tends to be a shocking event that will change people. Powell uses death throughout Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant as both a means to send the plot in a new direction and to contrast and highlight the theme of marriage.

Moreland’s death is, in a way, the event that starts the book in motion. Although Moreland is Nick’s best friend, he is not introduced until Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant. Moreland is unique in that he is the only character introduced as already being dead. Nick’s stories in the book begin because Nick is reminded of Moreland, and if Moreland were not dead, and his memory did not evoke strong emotions in Nick, then the story would not have come about. Nick’s introduction to Moreland is also punctuated by a reference to death. Nick draws attention to his first meeting with Hugh by using Mr. Deacon’s death to place that event in time. By tying death so thoroughly into the events that begin the book, Powell must, and does, use at least equally shocking events to change the direction of the plot.

The death of Moreland’s baby and the death of McClintick are clear turning points in Moreland’s life and marriage, and thereby the plot of the book. Nick tells us that the death of the Morelands’ baby was harder on the couple than outward appearances suggest. Indeed, the death of the baby is likely the event that starts to destabilize the Morelands’ marriage. Looking for an escape from the stress and problems caused by his baby’s death, Hugh begins an affair with Priscilla. In the end, though, it is another death, McClintick’s this time, which brings Hugh Moreland to end his affair. Love, marriage, and death are intertwined endlessly. McClintick’s suicide was itself the result of Audrey running off with Corolo. It is, however, the baby’s death that opens chapter three and begins to move the story in a new direction. Moreland’s marriage, in contrast, seems a natural consequence of the events leading up to it, and being married does not seem to change Moreland much. McClintick’s death, on the other hand, has an even more direct and tangible impact on Hugh’s life and behavior than either his marriage or the death of his child.

St. John Clarke’s death, which opens chapter four, also helps to further the story and once again punctuates a marriage. St. Johns Clarke is the only character who dies of natural causes, which of course emphasizes the premature nature of all the other deaths. After dying, St. John Clarke’s will explains Quiqqin’s behavior and solves Erridge’s financial problems. The timing and manner in which St. John Clarke’s will is revealed, however, rather than the content, brings marriage and death together. At the end of the book, Robert and Frederica show up to lunch with Nick, each bringing a piece of news. Robert, continuing the theme of marriage in the book, reveals that Priscillia is engaged to Chips Lovell (which of course can be tied back to McClintick’s death). Frederica, at the same time, brings up St. John Clarke’s death and speaks of the will. The contrast between Robert’s news and Frederica’s makes both pieces of news stand out. Frederica’s revelation about St. John Clarke’s will is also the final event of the book, thus framing the story; Moreland’s death indirectly starts the book, and St. John Clarke’s death closes it.

The first, third, and fourth chapters of Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant all begin with some sort of death and Powell closes the book, much as he started it, with events related to a death. Clearly death is a driving force behind the plot of the book. Much as Nick is fascinated by the book’s namesake because of its contrasting qualities, Powell makes the marriage stand out to the reader by often pairing it with its polar opposite death. Although it is necessary for characters to die in a work as complex and detailed as A Dance to the Music of Time, Powell uses death as an effective tool in Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant rather than just throwing characters away.

After Audrey left Maclintick for Carolo, Nick and Moreland are at Maclintick’s house, trying to console him. The subject of relationships inevitably arises, reminding Moreland of Petrarch and Laura. Petrarch was an Italian poet, inventor of the Italian sonnet. Laura was the girl he fell in love with. Though there seem to be many differences between Maclintick’s relationship with Audrey and Petrarch’s relationship with Laura, both Maclintick and Petrarch thought that they had found their ideal. Differences in circumstance cause the two relationships to turn out distinctly.

Many of Petrarch’s poems were written to Laura, the love of his life. However, the two of them never were in any sort of relationship. Petrarch was born in 1304 in exile from Florence, into a family of small landholders. Laura was born around 1310 into the prominent de Noves family, feudal lords of the village of Noves. Around the age of fifteen she married into the de Sade family. When Petrarch first saw her, though she had been married two years, he fell in love. He respected her marriage and idolized her, writing hundreds of poems about his love for her. The Laura that Petrarch wrote about was his perfect lover: beautiful, rich, noble, prudent, modest, and loved to listen to him. To him, she was perfection; their relationship an ideal never realized. The real Laura differed from Petrarch’s perfect image. The was only human and also carried the name de Sade, which became infamous because of Marquise de Sade’s graphic books, which lead to the word “sadism” to develop from the family name.

When Maclintick met Audrey, they didn’t connect. Maclintick “took a fancy to her as soon as I set eyes on her (CCR, 208)” and said that Audrey was his ideal. While Maclintick could look at her from a removed position, like Petrarch, he could admire her and consider her perfect. Unlike Petrarch, however, “there must have been a moment when some agreement was reached (CCR, 209)” and he married her. As the phrasing of Maclintick’s thought suggests, he and Audrey disagree on almost every point and fight throughout their marriage. Their sadistic relationship only provides each one with bait to bite at and no real pleasure. Like Laura was not interested in Petrarch, Audrey is disinterested in her relationship with Maclintick: she nearly goes out with Stringham, dismissing her husband to Stringham with “all the hatred of which she was capable (CCR, 168);” she finally runs off with Carolo. Maclintick says that “there is probably something wrong about thinking you’ve realized your ideal – in art or anywhere else. It is a conception that should remain in the mind (CCR, 211).” If he hadn’t thought that he married his ideal match, he would not have realized how sadistic she was. Moreland states that “It wasn’t for nothing that Petrarch’s Laura was one of the de Sade family (CCR, 211).” She was only perfect because she was unattainable and he believes that, had Petrarch formed a relationship with Laura he would have found a darker, “de Sade” side to her. After Laura’s death, Petrarch can still admire her, whereas when Audrey leaves, it is a relief to Maclintick.

The comparison of Maclintick and Audrey to Petrarch and Laura is fitting in that both Maclintick and Petrarch believed that they had found their ideal girl. Laura was of the de Sade family and Audrey has a sadistic approach to relationships. The difference in one forming a relationship and the other writing sonnets becomes the difference between Maclintick being miserable and seeing Audrey as wretched, and Petrarch continuing to adore Laura. However, Laura was born into the de Noves family, not the de Sade family and was not malicious. It seems likely, therefore, that Moreland drew these parallels without actually knowing much about Laura aside from her family name and relation to Petrarch.

Bibliography:

Bishop, Morris. Petrarch and his World. (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1963).

Throughout Anthony Powell’s A Dance to the Music of Time, characters and their roles evolve. Miss Weedon’s place in the Foxe household changes from being Stringham’s sister’s governess to Stringham’s babysitter. What remains constant, however, is the fact the Miss Weedon stays a stable source of backing for Stringham; he comments that she is, “a great supporter of mine” (59, QU). From when the reader first meets Tuffy in A Question of Upbringing to her entrance in Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant, her notion of support towards Stringham completely transforms.

During the summer after Eton lets out, Nick pays a visit to Stringham’s on his way through London. On this stopover, Stringham introduces Tuffy to Nick and the reader. The moment she walks into the room, Stringham is rather pleased to see her and she is likewise delighted to see him: “her face took on a sudden look of intensity, almost of anxiety, the look that women’s faces sometimes show at a moment of supreme pleasure” (58, QU). The fact that they are equally delight to see one another suggests that that their relationship is more mutual, rather than dominated by one. Indeed her pleasant feelings toward him are noticeable in her appearance, but also in her actions because it was her, not his parents, who remembered to purchase Stringham a ticket to the Russian ballet. In more of a friendly concern, Tuffy acts for Stringham’s benefit, so that he may simply enjoy an evening with his family. Here Tuffy offers the support of a friend and colleague. The next point we see her is at Oxford, where she gives Stringham a different kind of encouragement.

As Stringham prepares to go down from the University, he calls on Tuffy to help him in the matter. Sillery, a don at Oxford, is pushing very hard for Stringham to leave school and take a position with Sir Magnus Donners. When Stringham’s mother can not be present, Tuffy replaces her. In this way, she acts maternally when discussing Stringham’s future. As if she were defending her own child, Tuffy protects him from Sillery’s manipulative ways. Sillery immediately tries to establish his importance at the table by name-dropping and trying to control the conversation. He mentions his own acquaintance with a, “Mr. Gladstone,” obviously a man of importance. Tuffy counters this by congratulating Stringham on his lunch, saying, “Did you arrange all this lunch yourself…How wonderful of you” (214, QU). She talks solely about Stringham and his accomplishments, as if she is his proud mother, praising her child. Replacing Stringham’s mother for that moment and acting as if she was actually that, Tuffy displays maternal instincts and in this way provides a new kind of support for Stringham.

Finally, the reader finds Tuffy again in the fifth installment of The Dance. Her responsibility is, however, much different to anything prior. Rather than being affable and caring, she is cold and unreceptive when dealing with Stringham. Nick continually asserts this fact because with every movement Tuffy makes, Nick remarks on her character, such as, “her mysterious, equivocal presence [caste] a long, dark shadow over the scene,” (180, CCR) and “her smile cut like a knife” (181, CCR). Her role, however, now has completely changed, and that is why she must carry this demeanor. Stringham’s previous drinking habits, which were excessive, require him to have a stern chaperone, one who can make sure that he stays sober and abides by doctor’s orders. Trying to get Stringham to leave a party early, especially one that he is the life of, must be a difficult endeavor, but with relative ease, Tuffy demonstrates her authority over Stringham by using her ingenuity. Despite her new personality changes, her cleverness has yet to escape her. She convinces Stringham to accept a ride home by expertly pointing out that he can not go anywhere else because he forgot his wallet, saying, “If I had only known … I could have brought your notecase. It was lying on the table in your room” (184, CCR). Delivering the final blow, Tuffy finally convinces Stringham to ride home with her. Here, acting as if she is a babysitter and it is the child’s bedtime, she supports Stringham in this way and it requires her to be firm and cold.

As Stringham ages, Miss Weedon becomes more involved in his life. Now denoting times to return home, Tuffy’s personality has changed: progressing from a family friend to a praising mother, and then finally to a strict caretaker. Whether or not Tuffy will continue to care for Stringham is unclear, but I feel that he will still need some looking after in the future.

In Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant, we are introduced to a whole slew of new characters. Moreland, Gossage, Maclintick, and Carolo are just some of the many characters that Nick has met. Many of the old characters, such as Widmerpool, take a back seat in this book, however. One of the few characters that does return is Chips Lovell, Nick’s friend and former co-worker, whom we met in At Lady Molly’s. Though we have only known him since the last book, he has created a lasting impression on Nick’s life, and through him, we can see a bit more about Nick himself.

Chips has had quite an influence on Nick throughout the two books we have known him. Though we only meet Lovell himself on a few occasions, Nick quotes Chips’ opinion of people anecdotally in a similar fashion to the way he compares them to Uncle Giles in previous books. Through At Lady Molly’s and Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant, Nick mentions bits and pieces of gossip that he has picked up from Chips. “Chips Lovell…was always prepared at a moment’s notice to provide an a priori account of the personal history and problems of all his relations and acquaintances.” (CCR, 59) Chips has a much greater contribution to Nick’s life, however. “You might like Isobel. I believe she is a bit of a highbrow when she isn’t going to night clubs.” (LM, 19) Chips Lovell first introduces the name of Isobel Tolland to Nick. Though he did not know it then, he would fall in love with her, and they would be married by the end of the book.

From the time we meet Chips, his life seems to follow that of Nick’s. They are both employed writing movies for the Quota, and Lovell brings him along to Lady Molly’s. It is at her house where Lovell seeks out Priscilla Tolland (whom we later learn that he will marry), and where Nick himself later holds his engagement party with Isobel. The two in general seemed, for a time, to move among the same social circles. They both seem to associate with well-placed friends, like as the type which they might meet at Lady Molly’s.

If we dig deeper, we can also find aspects of the personalities of these two characters that are similar. We know from our past experiences with Nick, that while he will tell us about events in other peoples’ lives, he very rarely tells us about himself. Similarly, Lovell gossips about his relations and acquaintances, but the only information receive about his own life is his infatuation with Priscilla Tolland. Also like Nick, he rarely expresses his own opinion about things, preferring to present interesting stories or the opinions of others in a “he said … she said” form.

The one moment in which Nick actually meets Chips in Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant happens as a chance meeting on the Underground. Nick has a restraint about him when he speaks to Chips. “Although I liked Lovell, I saw no reason to offer help so far as his investigation of the situation of Moreland and Priscilla.” (194) It may be that Nick’s primary motive for being so guarded around Chips his wish to protect Moreland from Lovell’s gossip column (Constant Lambert’s relationships, after all, were the subject of columns similar to Lovell’s and it would stand to reason that Powell would want to avert a similar fate for the character he modeled). Another possibility is that Nick does not know Lovell’s motive (whether for love or for his work), and he hopes to protect Priscilla from Lovell. However, it is also likely that Nick is uncomfortable with Chips’ personality. Nick undoubtedly sees the similarity in their backgrounds and lines of work. Nick is more of an introvert, and seems to keep his information to himself, both about his friends, and about his own life. On the other hand Lovell indulges deeply in bits of news about his acquaintances, and bringing that information to others. Furthermore, Lovell seems dissatisfied with a common life, and is envious of people in high places. “Widmerpool …always stuck in my mind because he managed to stay at Dogdene. I took my hat off to him for getting there.” (194) In light of the tacit opposition that we have observed between Nick and Widmerpool from the beginning of the series, such reverence might be uncomfortable for Nick.

Now that Chips has become a member of the Tolland family, we will most likely be seeing more of him in the future. Undoubtedly though, even if he gains a more significant role, the character of Chips Lovell is unlikely to change. Surely he will still be the gossip-monger that he has been up to this point, and, while Nick may associate more closely with him, and remain his friend, perhaps he will have to be even more guarded, lest gossip within the family make its way into Chips’ column. Perhaps when Powell constructed the character of Chips Lovell, the similarities with Nick were intentional. Perhaps he meant Chips to be another, different aspect of himself.

Any fiction novel set in a nonfiction location and including nonfiction events has certain biases, unintentional or not, based on the author’s political, religious, spiritual or personal beliefs. Anthony Powell’s Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant is no exception. While some authors have rather blatant hidden agendas, Powell’s are somewhat buried in the thousands of pages of text. This is in part due to the unusual style of narration. One in which we receive excess information concerning the actions and ideas of others, while learning next to nothing about the person giving us the information. Nick is as close to a perfectly unbiased narrator as we will ever see, simply because we get no insight on his thoughts and beliefs. Because of his detachment, it would be easy to assume that Powell also feels impartial towards the events occurring within in his novel. The reactions of Erridge’s friends, family and others, when he leaves for the Spanish civil war, allows us to see, subconsciously perhaps, Powell’s conservative background.

Erridge was never a character loved by all, certainly not by Powell, who undoubtedly had no fondness for the extreme liberals he encountered during his life. It isn’t until chapter two of Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant that a few characters express very transparent opinions on the Spanish Civil War; opinions most likely fueled by Powell’s own political views. “He will certainly be on the opposite side to General Franco. I can’t think that Erry would be any great help to any army he joined, can you?” This is the first time Nick hears of Erridge’s departure for Spain, and it is as if Powell is speaking directly to him. There is a certain smugness in Robert Tolland’s voice as he says that Erridge will likely do no good to the communist side of the Revolution. Roddy Cutt’s comments on Erridge’s position being anomalous and embarrassing to the government are backed by Powell himself when Nick says “Roddy had clear-cut, practical ideas how people behaved. Erridge did not at all fit in with these.” Who is to say that Erridge doesn’t behave in a practical way? He is by no means a completely average citizen, but by saying he doesn’t act practically, there is an implication that there is right and wrong behavior and that Erridge falls in the wrong category. A British Tory, much like Powell, would certainly believe that.

 To his credit, Powell does not leave Erridge completely undefended against these blows to his character. Remarks such as “I asked them if they approved of shooting nuns” and “you will find an almost equally unbroken record of Royalism in Navarre” are countered by St John Clark’s wisdom and liberal views. Of course as we all know, St John is not in the best health, and his ability to provide a second side to the argument will not always exist. The players in support of Erridge are sorely outnumbered, and those against them might as well be speaking directly for Powell. “I hope he will try to persuade his friends not to burn all the churches” and “he has never been strong,” are two of many passages in which there leaves little doubt of Powell’s true feelings on the war and liberalists in particular.

Perhaps the most telling of all is the Maclintick’s row. Maclintick, following Powell’s own sentiment, wants absolutely nothing to do the communists. His wife playing the role of the idealist would like to see the government survive without communism, but would still take communism over fascism. Countering her argument Maclintick says four sentences, which in my opinion speak more about Powell than any others thus far. “Only because you think it is the done thing to be on the Left. There isn’t a middle-brow in the country who isn’t expressing the same sentiment. They should try a little practical Communism and see how they like it. You are no exception, I assure you.” Powell lived in a time where it was becoming more and more popular to be liberal. That quote shows us just how frustrated he was to be conservative, hating fascism but hating communism even more. He was stuck trying to choose between two things he couldn’t stand, while others around him simply did what was sociably acceptable.

As a narrator, Nick Jenkins observes his acquaintances with a critical eye. Even when he does not offer an opinion, the specific anecdotes and dialogues he shares invite the readers to analyze the characters for themselves, and his choice of what information to provide subtly guides the reader to view people the same way that Nick does. However, Nick tends to neglect the topics that one would think would be the most important; anything the reader learns about Nick’s personal life is the bare minimum of background information required to further the plot, and nothing more. It is almost as if Nick avoids all mention of his home life because he does not want the readers to analyze and judge it in the same way they do with the other characters; Nick’s acquaintances are fair game, but his family is none of our business.

The details of Nick’s marriage to his wife, Isobel, are the most noticeable of all the information Nick withholds. Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant marks the first time we see Nick as a married man, and yet his wife is hardly mentioned, and speaks only a few sentences in the course of the entire book. Although they have technically become a part of Nick’s family, he continues to discuss the Tollands; he became interested in the eccentric clan long before he met Isobel, and is not close enough to any of them to warrant the kind of reticence that his immediate family inspires. In recounting his visit to their house in Chapter 2, Nick is forced to include their inquiries about Isobel’s health, but he at first refuses to elaborate and gives far more attention to other, more trivial topics. Indeed, he responds to all the questions about Isobel with almost the exact same phrase; first “Pretty well all right now. She is emerging tomorrow. I am going to see her this afternoon” (62) and later “Pretty well all right now. I am going to see her this afternoon.” (70) In the face of the curiosity sparked by the Tollands’ concern, Nick’s mechanical replies are maddening.

Later, however, when Nick visits the nursing home, he grants us an insight into his reluctance to discuss his wife. He says, “…it is doubtful whether an existing marriage can ever be described directly in the first person and convey a sense of reality. Even those writers who suggest some of the substance of married life best, stylise heavily, losing the subtlety of the relationship at the price of a few accurately recorded, but isolated, aspects. To think at all objectively about one’s own marriage is impossible, while a balanced view of other people’s marriage is almost equally hard to achieve with so much information available, so little to be believed. Objectivity is not, of course, everything in writing; but even casting objectivity aside, the difficulties of presenting a marriage are inordinate…. Marriage … defies definition.” (97)

Nick does not feel that writing is really sufficient to convey his feelings about Isobel, so he doesn’t even try. He also reaffirms his reluctance to allow the readers to pass judgment on his personal relationships, fearing that they will not maintain a “balanced view” of his marriage. We have known from the beginning that finding love is deeply important to Nick, so much so that he is willing to overlook the most glaring faults if a girl happens to strike his fancy (see the Barbara Goring fiasco). All of his other relationships are different; Nick may like his friends, but he acknowledges their flaws. Nick’s feelings for Isobel fit neither the pattern of blind adoration, nor of detached fondness-rather, Nick seems to assume that if he has introduced her as the only girl he has actually wanted to marry, then that should be the end of that.

From this point in the series, we better understand Nick’s desire to protect his privacy. It may occasionally be frustrating-we would like to know more about the woman who is so important to our narrator, after all-but the series is intended to be an observation of society set in the context of Nick’s life, and from that perspective, his personal affairs really are “none of our business.” And while the naturally curious among us would undoubtedly like to know more about the married life of Nick and Isobel, all we really need to know about their relationship is provided in the exchange at the end of their visit in the nursing home; “‘I shan’t be sorry to come home.’ `I shan’t be sorry for you to be home again.'” (97)