Showing posts with label The House of Defence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The House of Defence. Show all posts

Saturday, 10 May 2014

The House of Defence

Fiction ~ novel
Published May 1907
Approx. 81,000 words
(First read 10/05/2014)

I was pleasantly surprised to find that I quite enjoyed The House of Defence ~ "Oh dear," I'd thought, "a novel about Christian Science ~ this is going to be hard work."  In fact I needn't have worried: EFB doesn't come anywhere near proselytizing ~ well, he couldn't really when he can't make his mind up whether he believes in it or not.  In the best tradition of fence-sitters always and everywhere he allows the reader to make up his mind for himself.
Lord Thurso¹ Raynham is a jolly-decent-chap type of toff who happens to be prey to crippling neuralgic headaches.  He accidentally becomes addicted to the laudanum (opium) he takes to counter the effects of these.  All other attempts to cure Thurso of his addiction having failed, his sister Maud, who during the course of the book becomes converted to Christian Science, partly because she's in love with the jolly-decent-chap-despite-being-American-and-a-Christian Scientist who teaches it to her, persuades Thurso to have a go with Mrs Eddy's mumbo-jumbo² ~ and lo! it works.
That's basically all there is to it, apart from the usual Bensonian diversions into beside-the-point characters and plots-that-are-never-finished-off.  But it moves along at a fairly quick rate (for EFB) and the story is sufficiently different from the usual fare to hold the attention and interest.
It's far from perfect, mind you.
The whole book is available online here.


P.S. You'd think it would've been published in the United States as The House of Defense, that being their charming spelling of the word, but apparently it wasn't.  Go figure, as they say.

¹ The early scenes are set on his estate in Scotland, which probably explains the unusual name. 
² Oops. 

THE CRITICS
Mr E F Benson is remarkable for his utilisation of current interests for fictional purposes, and it is not surprising to find that The House of Defence […] concerns itself with Christian Science. It is a subject which, at the outset, appears eminently suited to a writer of Mr Benson's tastes and capabilities. Without accepting it in its entirety, the author sees no reason why Christian Science should not heal diseases when the brain is the seat of trouble, “and its disease and desire is the real cause of the damage done to bodily tissue.”  [...]
The picturesque conception is reminiscent of many of the author's earlier works, and contains some inimitable Bensonian descriptions. The character drawing is subtle and refined, but it is only a variation of previous efforts and not remarkable for originality. There is an undercurrent of sadness throughout the work, but it is cleverly handled and kept in check. Altogether the book is one of the most interesting and successful novels of the season.
~The Manchester Courier, 23/05/1907
Unlike his brother, Father Benson, in A Mirror of Shalott, Mr. E. F. Benson supplies a preface to his new novel, telling the reader which of the miracles described within are founded on fact and which are imaginary. The miracle of faith-healing is, of course, no novelty, and the Church to which Father Benson belongs claims to work as great marvels through faith as do the Christian Scientists whom Mr. E. F. Benson describes in this story. Judged purely as a work of fiction, the book, while written with a good deal of Mr. Benson's customary vivacity, is rather thin and slight, but the episode vouched for by him as literally true is of considerable psychological interest. To quote the words of the preface: "To save that drug-logged wreck who was our friend you [that is, the Healer] drank that which by all that is known of the drug should have killed you, and you drank it with complete and absolute confidence that it could not possibly hurt you.” The Healer, both in real life and in the story, is alleged to have performed this feat in order to show the opium-drinker that the effects of the drug with which he has been poisoning himself are purely imaginary, and this conviction, enacted before his eyes, is in the book, and was, it is asserted, in real life, sufficient to cure the patient. In real life, as Mr. Benson tells us, the patient is extremely fond of the Healer, while the imaginary patient has rather an aversion to the imaginary Healer; but Mr. Benson does not allow this fact to interfere with the cure. It may be said of the episode in the book that it is a little rash of the patient to cable to his wife that he is cured without making the experiment as to whether the cure will last. To the ordinary Christian belonging to any of the older Churches, the Christian Scientist, when his miracles succeed, which is by no means invariably the case, seems to do the right thing in a wrong way. The cure may be undoubted, but cures do not prove the truth of the Christian Scientist's view of the world. Cures are also made at Lourdes, and in these the healing is attributed, not to the fact that evil—which seems very like the Christian Scientist's "error"— does not exist, but that the power of faith can overcome it. With regard to Christian Science cures in general, it is difficult to forget the dictum of Mr. Dooley, which ran something like this: "If the Scientists had a little more Christianity and the Christians had a little more Science, it would not much matter which you had—always supposing that you'd a good nurse!"
Mary Baker Eddy (1821-1910)
~The Spectator, 06/07/1907 
An interesting contribution to the literature of the Christian Science controversy. The milieu of the tale is the very best society, and admirers of Mr. Benson's novels need not be afraid that the subject of his story hinders him from giving many bright examples of the kind of irresponsible chatter of which he is master.
~Morning Post, quoted in endpapers of Sheaves
The mass of English religious novels, to be candid, owe their importance to the fact of their numbers rather than to the intrinsic value of any one story. But there is significance in the mere fact of Mr. Benson's wit and skill being submerged by a weak and painful mysticism, as in The Angel of Pain, and in The House of Defense by a pitifully flat and obvious sermon upon Christian Science.
~The Atlantic Monthly (US), 01/1907
"Oh very topical!"
It is so new a thing, and one so entirely unexpected, to find the claims of Christian Science exposed with any degree of intelligence in a novel, that one is inclined to be very lenient to the writer who succeeds in this achievement. Mr. Benson, therefore, deserves well of the reading public. It is also well that a live lord and his kith and kin have been chosen as subjects of the Christian Science propaganda, for of such is the kingdom of Mrs. Eddy.
 
~Westminster Gazette, quoted in endpapers to Juggernaut and Sheaves
It appeals to two sides of the reading public's heart at once. It interests people in the story, and it makes them wonder for the hundredth time “how much there really is in Christian Science.” It is a fine book, and an interesting one.
~Evening Standard, quoted in endpapers of Sheaves





 

Tuesday, 1 January 1980

The Angel of Pain

Fiction ~ novel
Published 1906
142,500 words

[Benson]'s reputation [in 1906] was such that his next book, The Angel of Pain, sold 8,000 copies on the day of publication.
~Brian Masters in The Life of E. F. Benson, 1991



THE CRITICS (I confess I am not looking forward to this one)
Mr. Benson can write a good story, and he does. The Angel of Pain is a good story, and it is something more.
~The Independent, quoted in the endpapers of US edition of The House of Defence
Mr. E. F. Benson's new novel is a singular mingling of the attractive and the disappointing. It is in its plot and situations distressing, but in its pictures of English society it is extremely interesting, and there are several characters worth knowing and rather carefully worked out. It is a pity, we think, that Mr. Benson persists in dealing in his fiction with symbolism and occultism. In this he follows the lead of Mr. Hichens, but with much less success. In the present story, for instance, the man who returns to nature, lives in the woods, discovers that he can by mental sympathy call the birds to his hand, and enters into inexplicable intimacy with the forest creatures, in the end becomes ridiculous rather than impressive. He believes in the joy of nature, but half fears and half hopes that at some time the whole of nature—sorrow as well as joy—will be revealed to him, and this he calls seeing Pan. There is an ancient pagan myth that whoever sees Pan will not survive the sight, and Mr. Benson intimates that his hero's sudden death is of this kind, but makes the whole thing ludicrous by leaving the reader in doubt as to whether the man is killed by being butted to death by a real goat or dies because he sees Pan in his mythical goat-like shape.
 
~The Outlook (US), 24/02/1906
There is a wide gulf between the clever frivolity of Dodo and the wise quietness of The Angel of Pain; the two novels might almost, indeed, have been written by two different men, so far has Mr. Benson travelled from the tone and manner of his sensational first book. He has drawn nearer to actual life here, and one cannot do that and still remain simply an airy and irresponsible humorist;with one exception the people of the story are normal and wonderfully lifelike men and women. The exception is Tom Merivale, who lives solitary in the New Forest and is known as 'the Hermit.' He talks a ripe philosophy, he says some good things, but he is not real, and the fashion of his death is fantastically unconvincing. The three chief characters, Philip Home, a shrewd and successful city financier, with a gentler, less practical side to him that is revealed only to his intimates; Madge Ellington; and the buoyant and engaging young artist, Evelyn Dundas, are detailed subtly and with insight. Madge was to have married Philip, though she has no love for him; but meeting with Dundas she loves and marries him, and for awhile Philip hovers on the verge of madness, and in these days, when he is hating the woman who has turned from him, indirectly acquiesces in certain financial operations that involve her husband in rule [sic]; then, when the influences of 'the Hermit' have healed his sick spirit, comes news that Dundas has been blinded by a shooting accident, and ennobled by the discipline of suffering he is stricken with sympathy and hastens to befriend him. The story is beautifully imagined, and is told with a fine artistic reticence and charm of style.
~The Bookman (UK), 05/1906

The mass of English religious novels, to be candid, owe their importance to the fact of their numbers rather than to the intrinsic value of any one story. But there is significance in the mere fact of Mr. Benson's wit and skill being submerged by a weak and painful mysticism, as in The Angel of Pain, and in The House of Defense by a pitifully flat and obvious sermon upon Christian Science.
~The Atlantic Monthly, 01/1907
We have learnt to expect from Mr. Benson an admirably constructed story, brilliant character sketches, flashes of good talk, light-hearted nonsense, and of late also a touch of weirdness, a study of things occult. In The Angel of Pain we find all these things … but the conception of the whole is finer and more human than that of any other work. Mr. Benson also shows a strong and intimate feeling for nature … a remarkably clever book.
~The Guardian, quoted in endpapers to Juggernaut

Mr. E. F. Benson shows steadily maturing power. His new novel … is on a higher plane of literary achievement than any work he has yet done … Mr. Benson has drawn his characters admirably, with infinite understanding and sympathy.
~Westminster Gazette, quoted in endpapers of Sheaves
A bright and clever book, showing us life very much as it is from the cheerful side.
~Daily Telegraph, quoted in endpapers of Sheaves
Beautifully written, and the characters … are drawn with the author's extraordinary insight and completeness in depiction.
~The Gentlewoman, quoted in endpapers of Sheaves