Open Collections

UBC Theses and Dissertations

UBC Theses Logo

UBC Theses and Dissertations

Brian Moore's special cachet: a study in characterization Jeffery, Irene Brenda 1972

Your browser doesn't seem to have a PDF viewer, please download the PDF to view this item.

Item Metadata

Download

Media
831-UBC_1972_A8 J43.pdf [ 8.25MB ]
Metadata
JSON: 831-1.0101704.json
JSON-LD: 831-1.0101704-ld.json
RDF/XML (Pretty): 831-1.0101704-rdf.xml
RDF/JSON: 831-1.0101704-rdf.json
Turtle: 831-1.0101704-turtle.txt
N-Triples: 831-1.0101704-rdf-ntriples.txt
Original Record: 831-1.0101704-source.json
Full Text
831-1.0101704-fulltext.txt
Citation
831-1.0101704.ris

Full Text

BRIAN MOORE'S SPECIAL CACHET : A STUDY I N CHARACTERIZATION by  Irene Brenda Jeffery B . A . , U n i v e r s i t y of British Columbia , 1960  A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL F U L F I L M E N T OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF ARTS in the Department of E n g l i s h  We accept this t h e s i s as conforming to the required standard  THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH C O L U M B I A M a y , 1972'  In  presenting  this  thesis  an advanced degree at the I  Library  further  for  agree  the U n i v e r s i t y  make  it  freely  that permission for  this  representatives. thesis for  It  financial  gain  Department  The U n i v e r s i t y  of  Date  ^["j  V)  B r i t i s h Columbia  191%.  of  of  Columbia,  British for  extensive by the  shall  not  the  requirements I  agree  r e f e r e n c e and copying o f  this  copying or  for  that  study. thesis  Head o f my Department  i s u n d e r s t o o d that  written permission.  Vancouver 8, Canada  fulfilment  available  s c h o l a r l y purposes may be g r a n t e d  by h i s of  shall  in p a r t i a l  or  publication  be a l l o w e d w i t h o u t my  ABSTRACT The purpose of this study, is to e s t a b l i s h the thesis that Brian Moore's predominant concern with the characterization of his individual protagonists influences both the form and content of his first seven n o v e l s . Chapters I and II d i s c u s s the effect of Moore's interest in character on the structural elements of plot and point of v i e w .  Chapter I describes the  t y p i c a l Moore plot which traces the gradual transformation of the character of the protagonist as the result of a series of d i s i l l u s i o n i n g events w h i c h climax in a moment of r e v i s e d s e l f - r e c o g n i t i o n . in determining character.  T h u s , plot is operative  The most striking aspect of Moore's narrative  technique, d i s c u s s e d in Chapter II, is his accomplished mixing of first and third-person narration.  As a consequence,  Moore is able to present  the protagonist with the objectivity of third-person narration at the same lime as he advances the protagonist's subjective view in the f i r s t - p e r s o n . In a l l Moore's n o v e l s , however, the emphas is on the  protagonist's view  ensures that his personality dominates the narrative. Chapters III and IV deal with the elaborate patterns of language and image which illuminate Moore's n o v e l s .  Chapter III links the unique  l i n g u i s t i c quality of each novel to ife source in the language, character, and situation of the protagonist, while Chapter IV describes the patterns of imagery which reveal the protagonist's v i s i o n of himself and of his world.  In the latter chapter, the several methods by which Moore depicts  the p h y s i c a l and p s y c h o l o g i c a l qualities of his characters are d i s c u s s e d as w e l l as his s p e c i a l v i s u a l i z a t i o n of each novel in its entirety.  Both  chapters argue that Moore's considerable skills in manipulating language and image find a focus in the central .character of each novel. Chapter V deals with the underlying ideas in Moore's fiction and, in particular, with the search for identity which is fundamental to a l l seven novels. Like Moore's protagonists, who are themselves ordinary human.beings, Moore's themes are founded in common human experience. And so, the discussion of thematic content which concludes this study illustrates yet another area in which Moore's concern with the portrayal of character influences his fiction.  TABLE OF CONTENTS Page Introduction  i  Chapter I,  P l o t . ' ' - . . . . . . . . . .  1  Chapter II,  Point of View .  Chapter III,  Language  49  Chapter IV,  Imagery  90  Chapter V ,  Thematic Development .  . . . . . . .  .  .22  .  139  Conclusion  157  Bibliography  159  Appendix A:  The Revolution Script .  .  .  161  INTRODUCTION Like many novelists before him, Brian Moore is primarily concerned with the depiction of character.  The very titles of several Moore novels -  Tudith Hearne, The Luck of Ginger Coffey, I am Mary Dunne, and Fergus point to his overriding interest in people and, especially, in one person who is the novel's subject.  A l l Moore's novels illustrate how the character  of the protagonist is altered by the events which he initiates. The surprising feature of this preoccupation with a single character is that Moore's protagonists are typically unimportant people. The only characters who verge on the extraordinary, Brendan Tierney and Fergus Fadden, are by no means famous writers. Therefore, the truth or the moral which a Moore novel imparts is a realistic truth about ordinary human beings. As Christopher Ricks notes, "The singular strength of Brian Moore's novels is manifest in their abolishing brow-distinction."* Brian Moore's novels are short (he has pointed out that he intends 2  his novels to be read in an evening) , brilliant exercises in characterization. He effectively brings to life an ordinary person who totally engages the reader's sympathies.  It is because Moore's characters are so essential  to his art and so successfully realized that his skills in characterization deserve to be examined. This thesis w i l l discuss how the plot, the narrative point of view, the diction, the imagery, and the themes are a l l instrumental in the realization of Moore's protagonists. Although Brian Moore is a contemporary novelist, his novels are not remarkably modern in technique.  Moore's dominating interest in creat-  ing characters precludes, for example, such experimentation as the French  -  i i -  anti-novelists have undertaken.  In'f'act, it is obviously Moore's success  in portraying character which exonerates him from Iris Murdoch's frequently echoed criticism of the modern novel in general: The 19th century novel (I use these terms ^oldly and roughly: of course there were exceptions) was not concerned with "the human condition," it was concerned with real various individuals struggling in society. The 20th century novel is usually either crystalline or journalistic; that i s , it is either a small quasi-allegorical object portraying the human condition and not containing "characters" in the 19th century sense, or else it is a large shapeless quasi-documentary object, the degenerate descendant of the 19th century novel, telling, with pale conventional characters, some straightforward story enlivened with empirical fact, j "The real various individuals" who people Moore's fiction ensure that Iris Murdoch's "crystalline" and "journalistic" labels cannot be applied to his novels which belong, as Christopher Ricks maintains, "without any embarrassment in the tradition that the Victorians magnificently 4  •  established."  A consideration of Moore's fictional techniques reveals in some instances, particularly in his handling of plot and point of view, a developmentaltrend from one novel to the next, while his treatment of diction, imagery, and the underlying themes of each novel often shows interesting parallels between novels. In order to. illustrate both the developments and the similarities it is preferable to discuss Moore's methods of characterization with examples from a l l the novels rather than to discuss the techniques of each novel in relation to that novel alone. Accordingly, the  -  iii  -  chapters of this thesis w i l l be devoted to Moore's techniques beginning with his formulation of plot.  1 Christopher Ricks, "The Simple Excellence of Brian Moore," New Statesman, 71 (Feb. 18, 1966), p. 227. 2 Hallvard Dahlie, "Interviews Brian Moore, " The Tamarack Review, 50 (Winter, 1968), p . 2 3 . .3 Iris Murdoch, "Against Dryness , " Encounter (January, 1961), p.18 4 Christopher Ricks, "The Simple Excellence of Brian Moore," p.227.  CHAPTER I  PLOT  Brian Moore has an old-fashioned penchant for telling a good story. His novels have the prime requisite for a good story - a plot - which rises to an important and revealing climax near the end of each novel.  In Moore's  novels, the plot centres on one character, and the c l i m a c t i c moment brings to this character a revelation about himself of such magnitude that the character's life must be different from that moment on.  That i s , Moore's  plots are based on the notion of personal change which is the result o f events affecting the protagonists.  In the early novels, these events bring  about a gradual stripping away of the central characters's illusions until the climax which is usually the moment of greatest d i s i l l u s i o n .  In the  later novels, the protagonists also forfeit their i l l u s i o n s , but the climax is not always totally d i s i l l u s i o n i n g .  In either case, it is clear that the  character of the protagonist has altered to some significant extent because of the events he has experienced.  Consequently, in Moore's novels, the  plot itself is an instrument of characterization, not only because actions reveal character, but principally because the events of the novel shape and change the character of the protagonist.  In short, Moore's concern  with character influences the very structure of his novels. Brian Moore brought this type of plot to perfection in his first novel, Judith Hearne  He has said that this novel describes loss of faith for an 2  ordinary person,  and certainly, at the c l i m a c t i c moment, Judith Hearne's  illusions about religion are destroyed.  This climax is rendered even more  pathetic because previous to this moment a l l M i s s Hearne's other hopes  -  2  for the future have also been crushed, one by one. The events of Judith Hearne, then, comprise a series of ever-increasing disillusions which lead to a total breakdown for the unfortunate protagonist.  The following  detailed examination of this plot w i l l reveal the intricate pattern of development which Moore follows in a l l his subsequent novels. At the outset of the novel Judith Hearne is endeavouring to begin a new life in another admittedly shoddy boarding house. . Her new "digs" appear especially promising because of James Madden, an eligible man who does not, as a l l other males before him, reject her at their first meeting. In fact, he even invites her out in the evening and accompanies her to mass on Sunday. Her new boarding house also provides her with anecdotes to entertain her friends, the O ' N e i l l s , for Judith Hearne things that a single g i r l h a s to have a store of entertaining stories about other people, like new new landlady, M r s . Rice and M r s . Rice's son, Bernie. However, Judith Hearne's hopeful new circumstances are more apparent than real; it is painfully clear that she is s t i l l very poor and lonely. Nevertheless, her upbringing by her wealthy Aunt D'Arcy has instilled in her a certain condescension. For instance, she agrees with her aunt that "church affairs . . tend to put one in contact with a l l sorts of people whom one would prefer not to know s o c i a l l y . " (p.58). As for religion, Judith Hearne feels that, Religion was there: it was not something you thought about and if, occasionally, you had small doubts about something in the way church affairs were carried on, or something that seemed wrong or s i l l y , w e l l , that was the Devil at work and God's ways are not our ways. You could pray for guidance. She had always prayed for guidance, for help, for her good intentions. Her prayers would be answered. God is good. (p.52)  It is apparent to the reader that Judith Hearne's prayers have never been answered, for Moore makes it clear that she is unattractive, unwanted, and impoverished. Judith Hearne, however, manages to cling to the illusions that she has good looks, good friends, and hopes for a better future. Judith Hearne is encouraged in her illusions right up until the moment in Chapter VII when she mistakenly believes that James Madden w i l l propose to her, and ironically he mistakenly believes that she is a woman of some social status who has money to invest in his restaurant scheme. This moment of greatest happiness for Judith'Hearne is immediately followed by the first in an inevitable series of disillusioning events In Chapter VII Judith Hearne learns that James Madden far from being a hotel manager in America was a doorman. This revelation about James Madden which does not, of course, deter her from wanting to marry him, coupled with an unpleasant interview with Mrs . Rice and her son, Bernie, so upsets Judith Hearne that she rushes to alcohol for comfort thereby confirming earlier hints in the novel that she is an alcoholic. Alcohol, Moore explains, is particularly comforting to those who deceive themselve A drink would put things right. Drink was not to help forget but to help remember, to clarify and arrange untidy and unpleasant facts into a perfect pattern of reasonableness and beauty. Alcoholic, she did not drink to put aside the dangers and disappointments of the moment. She drank to be able to see these trials more philosophically, to examine them more fully, fortified by the stimulant of unreason, (pp. 106-7)  Naturally, alcohol does not really put things right for Judith Hearne. Humilated because the Rices and James Madden know of her carouse, and disillusioned because she has not been able to resist temptation, Judith Hearne goes to church to seek expiation and solace. But since she feels rejected by everyone, she even begins to feel rejected by God who does not give her the sign she prays for. She is terrified by her blasphemous doubt that "in the tabernacle there was no God, " (p. 123) but she cannot dislodge i t . As she leaves the church, she feels cheated: She began to walk. Supposing, just supposing, her heart cried, supposing nobody has listened to me a l l these years of prayers. Nobody at a l l up above me, watching over me. Then nothing is sinful. There is no s i n . And I have been cheated, the crimson nights in that terrible book from Paris, the s i n , permissible then. (p.124) However, when she is almost hit by a car, she interprets her near escape from death as a sign from God, and she momentarily repents ever having doubted. Because of her bout with alcohol, Judith Hearne suffers a third d i s i l l u s i o n . She naturally thinks that James Madden avoids her after her carouse because he is appalled by her drinking. . But in a stormy interview outside the church he tells her that he is no longer interested in her because he has learned that she is poor. They both realize that they have been deceiving themselves about each other.  Judith Hearne has to accept  the unwelcome truths that not only did James Madden not alter his plans to marry her because of her drinking, but also that he never had any such plans in the first place.  5 Deceived by James Madden, Judith Hearne falls back, on the illusion that she has some true friends who would not deceive her. There is irony in Judith Hearne's remark, "Thank God I have some real friends left, the O ' N e i l l s , " because as Moore has shown in Chapter V, the O'Neills invite her each Sunday out of charity, not friendship. As Judith Hearne tells the O'Neills a modified version of her relations with James Madden and the Rices, Moore comments on the process by which she habitually deludes herself: Telling it, reversing the events to fit a more dignified pattern, she was uneasily conscious of the obligations of the l i e . Told once, it must be retold until, in the blurring of time , it became reality, the official version, carefully remembered, (p.145) Judith Hearne has also convinced herself that she w i l l not need alcohol again, but the sherry she drinks with the O ' N e i l l s , an incident on the bus, and the memory of James Madden's cruel words lead her to a second bout with whiskey. .This time she is encouraged by Bernie Rice who greatly disturbs her by suggesting that James Madden really does wantto marry her and by describing her situation in blunt, truthful terms she does not want to hear: "Religion is it? And what has religion.ever done for you, may I ask? Do you think God gives a damn about the likes of you and me? • I don't know what got you.into this mess. I can guess — you're no beauty and this is a hard country to find a man in — but I know what's keeping you this way. Your s i l l y religious scruples. You're waiting for a miracle. Look at yourself: . a poor piano teacher, lonely, drinking yourself crazy in a furnished room. Do you want to thank God for that? " (p. 159)  6 The scene ends with a tumultuous confrontation between the Rices and James Madden as well as Judith Hearne's eviction from the boarding house. Judith Hearne has finally realized that James Madden definitely does not want to marry her. This disillusioning experience prompts Judith Hearne to look again to religion for solace, this time from her new confessor Father Quigley who, she imagines,will help her:  '  God's confessor. . His anointed priest would hear it a l l , he would give comfort. Father Q u i g l e y ; . . ...Hollow-cheeked, he came before her, his accusing voice calling his parishioners to repent, to forget the world and its follies, to get down on their bended knees and prepare for their last end. He w i l l be glad, a man of God, seeing the sinner sworn in God's ways, the erring sheep shorn of her s i n s . And at M a s s , that day when I saw him first, I knew he would take poor Father Farelly's place, a real shepherd, and maybe even better than Father Farrelly, more stern, (p. 167) However, once again Judith Hearne is disillusioned. Father Quigley can only reprimand her for coming to the wrong confession, mouth cliches about alcohol, and look noticeably bored by her confession. Since "even God's anointed priest did not understand, " (p. 143) she again concludes that God does not exist, that the tabernacle contains only bread. But this time she is not frightened by her blasphemy: She stood up, staring at the tabernacle. She stepped out of her bench. She did not-genuflect. She turned away from the altar and walked slowly out of the church. Her hand, from the habit of a lifetime found the Holy Water font, dipped two fingers in i t . But she did not make the Sign of the C r o s s . Show me a sign, she s a i d .  (p.175)  -  7  -  At the climax of the novel, when the sign has not come,,and Father Quigley has again failed to help her as she feels a priest should, Judith Hearne finally tries to prove for herself whether or not God exists by trying to open the door of the tabernacle. Although she cannot open the door, she is so totally deranged by alcohol and depression that she does imagine that God appears.  However, the God she sees is actually  Father Q u i g l e y — "He came out, terrible, breathing fire, his face hollowcheeked," — (p.211) who catches her as she collapses in a total breakdown. . Judith Hearne's assault on the tabernacle is her last brave effort in the struggle to keep her illusions alive; afterwards she is totally defeated and quiescent. She finds herself supported by the O'Neills who have placed her in Earnscliffe Home, the hospital run by nuns that she has dreaded. And even at the end of the novel when it seems that Judith Hearne can have no more illusions to lose, she realizes the truth about her friendship with the O ' N e i l l s : Friends. Oh, how did I deceive myself a l l these years? A friend is hurt when you are hateful. No one is Christ. Friends are human, they resent. You don't resent, M o i r a . No, you pity me, you urge me to come again. Come and we w i l l be n i c e . We w i l l feel sorry for you. , N o , I have your charity, I lost friendship for i t . You are paid. You are rid of me. (p. 218) Judith Hearne is spared nothing. Moore has shown how.all her life-giving illusions have been destroyed dramatically in but a few days, so that she is left with only her familiar possessions to comfort her and absolutely no hopes for a better future either in this world or the next. In Judith Hearne, then, the plot traces the process of disillusionment which irrevocably  alters Judith Hearne. This type of plot, based on the notion of personal change, is germane to a l l Moore's novels as the following plot summaries of Moore's later novels w i l l illustrate. Moore's second novel also involves several disillusioning events 3  for the protagonist.  In The Feast of Lupercal,  Diarmuid Devine , like  Judith Hearne, is forced by new circumstances to face unpleasant and unsuspected truths about himself. And if Devine's disillusion is not as devastating as Judith Hearne's, it is certainly equally poignant. At the beginning of the novel, Devine chances to overhear a remark made about himself by one of his colleagues and.is prompted by the insulting nature of this remark to prove his colleague wrong. Devine imagines that courting Una Clarke, a much younger girl than himself who is also of a different faith, w i l l enable him to break out of the stultifying pattern of life which is turning him into "an old woman. " (p.45) And, indeed, Devine's. amorous intentions lead him to act in a most unusual fashion for him. It is these actions, however, which eventually bring Devine to the climactic moment of self-discovery. When his courtship abortively ends in scandal, a totally unprecedented situation for the circumspect Devine, he makes some discouraging discoveries about his inadequacy to help Una in her predicament. Sadly, Devine realizes that, Every dreamer must one day wake. Until a few days ago, he had thought well of himself... .One of his dreams was that he had not yet been tried, but that, if tried, he would not be found wanting in the deeds of this world. Love and loyalty. A week ago, he would have said he was capable of both. They were only words, last week. But now he had failed in both. (pp.217-18)  And when, too late, Devine finally defends Una and even defies his superiors, he is depressed to see that his defiant self-assertion is virtually ignored by the authoritarian figures who control his life: It was a relief, in a way. But it was also disappointing. After a l l , for once in his. life he had spoken up; for once he had told the lot of them where they got off. He hadn't minced words, either. But they sent him home in a taxi and paid the fare. It w i l l a l l blow over, the President s a i d . (p. 241) Ultimately, Devine is reconciled to the notion that he is incapable of becoming his own man. After his last meeting with Una he concedes: She was right, he couldn't change. For the rest of his life he'd go on telling people what they wanted to hear. (p.246) In the end, Devine knows that he is doomed to living as he always has. He can no longer delude himself into believing that he can change his way of l i f e .  To the extent that he has become more fully conscious of his  limitations, Diarmuid Devine is a changed man at the end of the novel. Clearly, the plot of The Feast of Lupercal, based as it is on the d i s i l l u sionment of the protagonist, is very similar to the plot of Moore's first novel. Ginger Coffey and Gavin Burke, the protagonists of The Luck of Ginger Coffey  4  and The Emperor of Ice-Cream,  5  are also changed during  the course of the novels in which they appear. Although one is a man and the other, an adolescent, each undergoes a similar transformation: they both grow up. And while the truths they must face in order to mature destroy certain illusions which they at first cherish, both Ginger Coffey and Gavin Burke profit from being disillusioned.' Because their moments of disillusion are later followed by hopeful revelations, Gavin and Ginger, unlike Judith  Hearne and Diarmuid Devine, end their stories on a promising note.  That  i s , Moore's first two novels in which the protagonists move from hopeful expectations to disillusionment are in the tragic mode, while his third and fifth novels in which the protagonists progress from hope to despair and again to hope are in the comic mode. Northrop Frye has outlined the t y p i c a l movement of these two basic plots: A tragic or comic plot is not a straight line: it is a parabola following the shapes of the mouths on the conventional masks. Comedy has a U-shaped plot, with the action sinking into deep and often potentially tragic complications, and then suddenly turning upward into a happy ending. Tragedy has an inverted U , with the action rising in crises to.a peripety and then plunging downward to catastrophe through a series of recognitions , usually of the inevitable consequences of previous acts. But in both cases what is recognized is seldom anything new; it is something which has been there a l l along, and which, by its reappearance or manifestation, brings the end into line with the beginning. ^ Since Moore uses both types of plot for what is essentially the same subject, — bringing one's expectations into line with reality — it is evident that in Moore's novels reaching a mature understanding of oneself is not always tragic. Ginger Coffey reaches a point of despair when, having failed to get the promotion he was striving for, he believes that he w i l l lose his wife and daughter to another man. To make matters worse, he has also been arrested, while extremely intoxicated, and charged with indecent exposure in a public place. At this moment Ginger finally realizes that luck is an illusion he can no longer count on to improve his l o t . But it is also at this moment of despair that he begins to mature, and for the first time in his life he admits that he is responsible for his acts:  But Oh! He knew something how, something he had not known before. A man's life was nobody's fault but his own. Not God's, notVera's, not even Canada's. His own fault. Mea culpa.• (p.223) The "new" Ginger Coffey subsequently tries to spare his family the shame of being involved with him by giving a false name in court. This selfless act so impresses his wife that she reverses her decision to leave him. Ginger also learns from his daughter's behaviourwhile he is in jail that she cares for him more than he had suspected. Fortunately, Ginger is given a suspended sentence. And so, the novel ends happily with Ginger reunited with his family and reconciled to accepting a .less glamorous job than the one he had wanted. The events of the last part of<the novel also lead Ginger to a more mature, if less romantic, understanding of the nature of happiness and l o v e . After he has been allowed to leave the courthouse, he experiences a. moment of tremendous,', elation on the courthouse steps.  The mature Ginger Coffey  is able to accept the notion that such moments of pure happiness are rare indeed:  ,  . . . - Y e s , a momentary happiness might come to him again. But was that a l l he could hope for now — a few mystical moments spaced out over a lifetime? Y e s , it might be a l l . (p.2 26)  Similarly, the mature Ginger realizes that the love he feels for his wife is less a matter of desire than of companionship: Ah, you idjit, you. Don't you know that love isn't just going to bed? Love isn't an act, it's a whole life . . . . Why, I ' l l tell you what love is: it's you at seventy-five and her at seventy-one, each of you listening for the other's step in the next room, each afraid that a sudden  -  12  -  silence, a sudden cry, could mean a lifetime's talk is over. (p.243) At the end of the novel Ginger Coffey is an altogether different person from the puerile fellow who had counted on luck to bring him wealth, love, and happiness. The same movement from despair to mature self-knowledge characterizes the plot of The Emperor of Ice-Cream. In this novel, Gavin Burke becomes totally disillusioned about his inability to break out of the repressive atmosphere of his father's world^where Gavin is always a juvenile and a failure, into the adult world where he imagines he w i l l be independent and successful. His spirits reach their nadir when, after a year and four months in the Air Raid Precautions Unit which he had joined in hopes that it would be his entry to the adult world, he dares to come home intoxicated only to find himself going "down with a bump to being a child again, slapped by Daddy, lectured about exams, sent to bed in disgrace. " (p.191). However, it is also at this-point that Gavin realizes that the childhood sin of lack of purpose which s t i l l besets him is also a sin in the adult world. Fortunately, Gavin is allowed an opportunity to act with a purpose, thereby demonstrating that he_is an adult, when the war finally comes to Belfast.  Like the mature  Ginger Coffey, the mature Gavin Burke begins to see his life in a new way. He discovers that he is able to act independently of his family who are fleeing Belfast for the safety of Dublin.  Gavin elects to stay in Belfast to  do his job with the A . R . P . , defying his family. To his surprise he realizes:  -  13  -  I didn't even say good-bye to them, any of them, I've finished with them, let them run off to Dublin, I can live here alone, (p.217) Then he finds that he is even capable of defying a priest when he and Freddy, who are bo.th free-thinkers, refuse to kneel when the priest recites the Lord's Prayer. Gavin is again almost surprised at his own behaviour, but he also realizes: You're not afraid now of bombs, or priests, of Our Father of your father or anybody. You've changed Gavin, (p. 224) Gavin's girl friend, Sally Shannon, on the other hand, w i l l never change, and therefore the mature Gavin finds that he is "over her. " Gavin definitely knows that he has changed when he discovers that he is no longer torn between the demands of his two angels, one which counsels orthodox behaviour and one which seductively suggests the opposite. Instead.he hears "a new voice, a cold grown-up voice within him, " which he heeds as he had never heeded "the childish voices of his angels." (p.250) At the end of the novel an adult Gavin comforts his father who weeps like a child when he discovers how terribly wrong he has been in his opinions about the war which has apparently destroyed his world. The war, rather than an action of the protagonist, is the precipitating event in The Emperor of Ice-Cream,  which is the only Moore novel in which circumstances out-  side the control of the central character affect the outcome of the novel. 7 For different reasons, An Answer From Limbo  is also an exception  to the typical Moore novel. Instead of one main character, An Answer from  -  14  Limbo really has three main characters, although Moore does confer special status on Brendan Tierney. His sections are the only ones narrated.in the first person, and it is a question about his character to which an answer (from limbo) is supplied at the end of the novel. In the beginning Brendan wonders whether he is capable of becoming a "true" writer, and he ponders a question posed by an old friend: w i l l he sacrifice himself for his work? At the end of the story, when his first novel is going to be published, Brendan is saddened by the realization: I know at last the answer to Ted Ormsby's question. I have altered beyond a l l self-recognition. . I have lost and sacriffed myself. (p.319) The irony of Brendan's realization i s , of course, that while he had previously feared the oblivion of being an unsuccessful writer more than anything else, success brings him an even greater oblivion. He is truly consigned to limbo when he loses the only thing he believes i n , himself. Moore also confers special status on Brendan's-mother, M r s . Tierney, since she is the most sympathetic character ,in the novel. Her lingering and solitary death, which is certainly the emotional climax of the novel, confirms her intuition of her children's indifference and Brendan's egoism. Whereas Mrs.. Tierney had left her familiar Ireland expecting to enjoy a new life in New York with Brendan's family, she finds instead that she is misunderstood, rejected, and even abandoned by them. After her death, Brendan comments on the cruel irony of his mother's fate:  15 Yet my mother's life was what is called a success. She was pretty; she married a successful man; she lived in a large house; had maids, a car and holidays abroad. She bore her husband four children and nursed him through his final i l l n e s s . She had known in her lifetim*.perhaps a thousand people and some of these people loved her. Yet she died alone in the limbo of a strange apartment and lay dead until, by accident, a stranger found her. (p.318) The third important character, Jane Tierney, Brendan's wife, is also bitterly disappointed at the end of the novel. At the outset she is enthusiastic about returning to work to support her husband while he writes a novel and at the same time, "doing something creative for godsakes, after years of parks and prams and diapers." (p.56) But her dream of a happy, creative life turns into a nightmare of adultery. In the end she discovers that not only has her marriage been destroyed but also that her life completely lacks meaning. She reasons: At twenty-eight, wasn't it an admission of failure to have no person/no thing which you loved more than you loved yourself? I do not love myself, she thought, but if I do not love others either, then I am no better than Brendan, (p. 309) The outcome for each of the three major characters of An Answer From Limbo is both disillusioning and ironic. A l l three are disillusioned in themselves. Brendan is disappointed that he cannot be both a writer and a sentient human being; M r s . . Tierney feels she has failed as a Catholic parent; and Jane realizes that her existence is pointless. The irony of each realization lies in its unexpectedness, especially for Brendan and Jane who had proudly never imagined that they could fail as people.  -  16  The irony in the outcome for the protagonists of An Answer from Limbo is also evident in the outcome of the novels already discussed. The ending is never quite what the protagonist expects in the beginning, but it is also never improbable. The conclusion always involves a recognition by the protagonist of some facet of his character which becomes apparent as a result of what he experiences. The main character, then, gains a measure of self-knowledge from the events of the novel and develops accordingly. These novels are based on Moore's assumption that the self is determined by what it.experiences. Moore has said in reference to g  himself, "People's lives change them"  and obviously this notion lies 9  in back of Moore's fiction. 10  In his two latest novels, I Am Mary Dunne  and Fergus, Moore explores the assumption on which the earlier novels are based. These two novels are centered on characters who examine their pasts (that i s , what they have experienced) in order to understand themselves in the present.  While in both novels the action is limited to the  events of a single day, it is not the events themselves which bring the central character an understanding of himself, but the recollections and ideas which the day's events generate. In both novels, then, memory is an important element. In I Am Mary Dunne.Moore suggests that memory, in fact, constitutes identity, and then he examines what happens to Mary Dunne whose memories are guilt-ridden and destructive. Mary Dunne experiences a crisis of identity which brings her close to madness, even to suicide, but her recollections of one day's experiences reassure her in at least two w a y s . First, she concludes that the act of remembering itself must mean that she  -  17  ' -  has a self which remembers, and secondly, the fact that someone else's memory of her is unchanging means that she has a self which in turn is. remembered. She realizes that her panic upon not being able to remember who she is at the beginning of that'day was unjustified. The novel ends with Mary's affirmation: And see, when I put my mind to it, I did manage to remember most of the thoughts, words and deeds of today, and now I w i l l not panic . . . .1 am not losing my memory. I know who I am, my mother said tonight that I am her daughter. . .1 have not changed, I remember who I am and I say it over and over, I am Mary Dunne, I am Mary Dunne, I am Mary Dunne, (p.217)  i Where Moore's earlier novels have a climax which brings a degree of selfknowledge to the protagonist, the climax of I Am Mary Dunne, which serves to convince the protagonist^.of her identity, involves a much deeper level of self-knowledge. Memory is equally important in Fergus, the protagonist of which is a writer, Fergus Fadden. When.he is asked to make a wish for anything at a l l , Fergus asks for total r e c a l l . "If I had total r e c a l l , " he reflects, "then I wouldn't go on making the same mistakes, year after year." (p. 204) While Mary'Dunne's memories Q'^re of people and events, Fergus is principally concerned with memories of people, for other people and their opinions of him are very important to Fergus. His life, has been dominated by the need to be well-thought-of by relatives, by friends, by a contemporary reading public, and even by posterity. But whereas Mary Dunne's r e c o l l ections • <ure triggered by real people from her past who visit or telephone her a l l in one day, Fergus's memories are inspired by ghosts.  Fergus is  so full of anxiety that he imagines that his past has risen up in judgment  of his present.  During the single day which the novel covers he invokes  a myriad of dead or distant relatives and acquaintances who appear to converse with him in a very real way. The day's conversations with his "ghosts" bring Fergus certain revelations about his character and his l i f e .  He realizes the truth of the dictum often cited by his friend,  Paddy Donlon, "A man is what he does, not what he says he does . " (p. 89) Further, he sees that if people w i l l judge him by what he has accomplished , then he must be certain of the principles which guide his actions . His ghostly father sums up Fergus's situation: "Don't you see? If you have not found a meaning, then your life is meaningless." (p.227) Fergus' "ghosts," it must be remembered, are his own invention. Instead of voicing his own complairife about himself, he imagines that the criticisms are spoken by other people. But, of course, the ideas are his own, as even he acknowledges, (p. 124)  In other words, Fergus is a dramatized  stream-of-consciousness novel, and like a l l novels of this type, the subject of the novel is the psyche of the central character.^ The plot of Fergus i s , then, less a matter of events than of an argument by which a question about the protagonist is solved. Although this loose plot, like the plots of other Moore novels, builds up to a revelation about the character of the protagonist, the novel s t i l l suffers from a lack of structure. As one critic has pointed out, the coherence of the theme is too slow to 1?  emerge.  It is not clear until halfway through the hovel that the rather  predictable opinions of Fergus's ghosts w i l l bring Fergus an important  r e v e l a t i o n . And the r e v e l a t i o n , when it comes, f a l l s short of the r e v e a l ing.  Surely the meaninglessness of human e x i s t e n c e is not a d i s c o v e r y  for the i r r e l i g i o u s , educated, and s e n s i t i v e observer of twentieth century life that Fergus is supposed to b e . The plot of each Moore n o v e l , though not a l w a y s as s l i g h t as the plot of F e r g u s ,  is generally s i m p l e . H o w e v e r , in a few novels the plot  is c o m p l i c a t e d by a sub-plot w h i c h , without d i r e c t l y i n v o l v i n g the central character, does show to what degree that character is a v i c t i m of c i r c u m stances he cannot c o n t r o l . Judith Hearne, for example, does not know that she is being used by Bernie Rice in his M a c h i a v e l l i a n (or so he w o u l d l i k e to think) schemes to e v i c t James Madden from his mother's boarding house.  And Diarmuid D e v i n e is the hapless pawn in a power struggle  between the Reverend D a n i e l Keogh, President of S t . M i c h a n ' s where D e v i n e t e a c h e s , and the Dean of D i s c i p l i n e , Father M c S w i n e y , who would l i k e to usurp the P r e s i d e n t .  S i m i l a r l y , Jane Tierney who is manipulated by  Vito Italiano comes to feel that her marriage is ended as a consequence w e l l before Brendan Tierney has any notion that a stranger has designs on his w i f e .  This view of a character as v i c t i m of another's  schemes,  w h i c h M o o r e ' s sub-plots suggest, is a corollary to his b a s i c assumption that character is influenced by e v e n t s . In a l l M o o r e ' s novels the development of the main character and of the plot are c l o s e l y i n t e r - r e l a t e d .  The central character who i n i t i a t e s the  a c t i o n of the n o v e l is a l s o affected by this a c t i o n and in every novel is s u b s t a n t i a l l y changed b y - i t . When the character of the protagonist at  20  -  the outset of the novel is compared to his character at the end, the extent of the changes wrought in him by the events of the novel is clear. However, the protagonist is never changed so much as to become unrecognizable or in a manner which is inconsistent with his character.  The Judith Hearne  who has lost a l l .her illusions but who s t i l l bravely tries to think of her hospital room as a new home is latent in the Judith Hearne who is desperately trying to make the best of her new "digs" at the beginning of the novel. As Northrop Frye suggests, the end of either a comic or tragic plot should come 13 into line with the beginning,  and in Brian Moore's novels, basing the  plot on the development of the central character makes this symmetry possible.  -  21 -  Footnotes for Chapter I. ^Brian M o o r e , Judith Hearne (London, Andre D e u t s c h , 1955). Further references to this n o v e l are from this e d i t i o n and are identified by page number after the q u o t a t i o n . 2 Richard B . S a l e , "An Interview in London w i t h Brian M o o r e , " Studies, in the N o v e l , I (Spring, 1969), p . 7 2 . 3 Brian M o o r e , The Feast of Lupercal (Boston and Toronto: L i t t l e , Brown and Company, 1957). Further references to this n o v e l are from this edition and are identified by page number after the q u o t a t i o n . , Brian M o o r e , The L u c k of Ginger Coffey (Boston and Toronto: L i t t l e , Brown and Company, 1960). Further references to this n o v e l are from t h i s e d i t i o n and are identified by page number after the quotation. 4  B r i a n M o o r e , The Emperor of I c e - C r e a m (New York: V i k i n g P r e s s , 1965) . Further references to this n o v e l are from t h i s e d i t i o n and are i d e n t i fied by page number after the quotation. 5  6  . Northrop F r y e , Fables of Identity W o r l d , 1963), p . 2 5 .  (New York:  Harcourt, Brace &  7 Brian M o o r e , A n Answer from Limbo (Boston and Toronto: L i t t l e , Brown and Company, 1962). Further references to this n o v e l are from this edition a n d are identified by page number after the quotation, g H a l l v a r d D a h l i e , "Interviews Brian M o o r e , " 'The Tamarack R e v i e w , 50 (Winter, 1968), p . 2 9 . 9 • • ' Brian M o o r e , I Am M a r y Dunne (New Y o r k , V i k i n g P r e s s , 1968). Further references to t h i s n o v e l are.frbm this e d i t i o n and are i d e n t i f i e d by page number after the q u o t a t i o n . ^ B r i a n M o o r e , Fergus (Toronto: M c C l e l l a n d and Stewart, 1970). Further references to this n o v e l are from this e d i t i o n and are i d e n t i f i e d by page number after the q u o t a t i o n . ' ^ S e e Robert Humphrey, Stream of C o n s c i o u s n e s s in the Modern N o v e l (Berkeley and Los A n g e l e s , U n i v e r s i t y of C a l i f o r n i a P r e s s , 1968), p . 2 . Humphrey defines such novels a s , " N o v e l s w h i c h have as their e s s e n t i a l subject matter the c o n s c i o u s n e s s of one or more c h a r a c t e r s . " 12 Bruce D . A l l e n , "Reviews Fergus, " "The Library Journal (August, 1970).p.2718. See supra, p.10  22  CHAPTER II  POINT OF VIEW  Brian Moore molds his novels around a central character not o n l y by centering the plot of each n o v e l on a main character but a l s o by the very t e l l i n g of that character's s t o r y .  G e n e r a l l y , Moore adopts Henry  James's method of f i l t e r i n g his narrative through the c o n s c i o u s n e s s of the main character.  The variations Moore makes in this b a s i c narrative -  technique, however, r e v e a l a trend in his novels toward an e v e r - i n c r e a s ing concentration on the point of view of the protagonist.  The first four  n o v e l s , told p r i n c i p a l l y from the point of v i e w of the main character, a l s o narrated by minor characters and by the author.  are  The later n o v e l s , by  contrast, are more c o n s i s t e n t l y seen through the eyes of the central character a l o n e .  M o o r e ' s s i x t h n o v e l , I Am M a r y D u n n e ,  a first-person  narrative by the protagonist, h a s , of c o u r s e , the most concentrated point of view of a l l M o o r e ' s n o v e l s . . But even when M o o r e ' s protagonist is not, l i k e M a r y Dunne, the o f f i c i a l narrator of a n o v e l , Moore s t i l l ' c o n t r i v e s to give maximum exposure to his central character by constantly adopting his point of view so that the aura of the protagonist permeates the entire n o v e l . W i t h the single exception of I Am M a r y D u n n e , M o o r e ' s novels begin from the point of v i e w of the author.  Then — in some novels it is  o n l y a matter of sentences - - he shifts to the v i e w of the main character and resumes the author's point of view only when the shift is n e c e s s a r y . Thus, w h i l e the main character seems merely to be a c t i n g out his role in the n o v e l , he is a c t u a l l y performing the function of the author. As  -  23  Wayne C . Booth points out in his study of the various modes of handling point of v i e w ,  The Rhetoric of F i c t i o n :  The most important unacknowledged narrators i n modern f i c t i o n are the third-person "centers of c o n s c i o u s n e s s , " through whom authors have filtered their n a r r a t i v e s . Whether such "reflectors," as James sometimes c a l l e d them, are highly p o l i s h e d mirrors r e f l e c t i n g complex mental e x p e r i e n c e , ot* the rather t u r b i d , sense-bound "camera e y e s " of much f i c t i o n s i n c e James, they f i l l p r e c i s e l y the function of avowed narrators - - though they can add i n t e n s i t i e s of the ir o w n . 1  In M o o r e ' s n o v e l s , not o n l y is the narrative f i l t e r e d through the c o n s c i o u s ness of the main character whose "complex mental experience" is the subject of the n o v e l , but a l s o , and more s i g n i f i c a n t l y , the main character frequently speaks in his own v o i c e . Every time the protagonist's v o i c e replaces the v o i c e of the author, the n o v e l gains in dramatic i n t e n s i t y . The reader, l i k e the audience at a p l a y , is overhearing the character without the apparent intervention of the a u t h o r . . M o o r e ' s combination of authorial exegesis and v i v i d dramatic rendering reveals his desire to achieve the fullest p o s s i b l e r e a l i z a t i o n of the character of the protagonist since he is s e e n , as it w e r e , both from w i t h i n and from w i t h o u t .  Naturally,  Moore does not use an i d e n t i c a l combination of the two v o i c e s in every novel.  In fact, a trend toward a greater and greater emphasis on the  protagonist's point of view is d i s c e r n i b l e in his n o v e l s .  This trend includes  e l i m i n a t i n g the v i e w of minor characters as w e l l as l i m i t i n g the author's role as narrator. M o o r e ' s artful b l e n d i n g of voices is as sure in his first novel as in his s e v e n t h . , Judith Hearne begins w i t h the author's v o i c e , "The first thing  24 M i s s Judith Hearne unpacked in her new lodgings was the silver-framed photograph of her a u n t . " (p. 7) T h e n , in the fourth paragraph, Judith Hearne's d i s t i n c t i v e v o i c e is heard as she muses on the deline of her new neighbourhood: (l)Like this house, she thought. (2) This be d - s i t t i h groom must have been the master bedroom. (3) Or even d r a w i n g room. (4)And look at it n o w . (5)She turned from the window to the photograph on the m a n t e l p i e c e . (6)A11 changed she t o l d i t , a l l changed s i n c e your d a y . (7)And I'm the one who has to put up w i t h i t . . (p. 8) C l e a r l y , sentences 1, 5 and 6 can be a s c r i b e d to the author.  The intervening  sentences 2, 3 and 4 are apparently Judith H e a r n e ' s , and the l a s t sentence, 7, is undoubtedly h e r s .  This deft mixing of first and t h i r d - p e r s o n narration  a l l o w s Judith Hearne to speak in her own v o i c e without any prefacing remark from the author.  As a matter of c o u r s e , her own words provide a  dramatic insight into her own character:  her l a d y - l i k e language, her  n o s t a l g i a for a former g e n t i l i t y , and her c o n s c i o u s n e s s of the i n j u s t i c e s that she has to suffer are a l l marks of the s p i n s t e r .  Throughout the n o v e l ,  Judith Hearne's personality and her reactions to any other character are constantly kept before the reader by the interplay of her v o i c e w i t h the v o i c e of the author.  So s k i l l f u l is Moore in combining first and t h i r d - .  person narration that one can read the following paragraph in context without being jarred by the i n c o n s i s t e n c y of pronouns: " Y e s , G o o d - b y e , M o i r a . " She d i d not k i s s her..I_ c c o a l d n ' t . Not after what_I s a i d . (my i t a l i c s ) (p.203) The subtle blending of v o i c e s w h i c h is the essence of M o o r e ' s technique  -  25  -  t o t a l l y accustoms the reader to hearing Judith Hearne speak i n her own voice without i n t r o d u c t i o n . D e s p i t e the prevalence of passages narrated from Judith H ear ne' s point of v i e w or even in her v o i c e , the c o n t r o l l i n g presence of the author is always d i s c e r n i b l e i n the n o v e l .  As W a y n e Booth has pointed out,  "Though the author can to some extent choose his d i s g u i s e s , he can 2 never choose to d i s a p p e a r . "  In this n o v e l , what is written from the  author's point of v i e w tends to make the reader aware of the irony of Judith Hearne's i l l u s i o n s , and i n sortie i n s t a n c e s , the c l o s e j u x t a p o s i t i o n of the author's objective view to Judith's subjective view is humourous as w e l l as i r o n i c .  W h e n , for example, Judith Hearne is identifying w i t h  the characters i n a f i l m , the author is at the same time s l y l y drawing the reader's attention to the incongruity of her r o m a n t i c i z i n g : M i s s Hearne, her g l a s s e s s l i p p e d furtively on her nose under the cover of d a r k n e s s , saw Samson M a d d e n stride into the h a l l s , d a z z l i n g a l l w i t h . . . his s m i l e . . ...He l o v e s her s t i l l , he w i l l a l w a y s love her. And she went up unto the Temple of D a g o n , her heart f i l l e d w i t h love and l o n g i n g . . . . He implores her, D e l i l a h Judith, to leave for her own safety.... She watches from the s h a d o w s , w e l c o m i n g ,v d e a t h . And Samson spoke w i t h M a d d e n ' s v o i c e , unfolding the final stupendous s p e c t a c l e . Beside her M r . M a d d e n ate jujubes and thought of C a l i f o r n i a . Bible stuff was okay but there was too much talk i n i t . (p.85) By simply reminding the reader that D e l i l a h Judith wears g l a s s e s and that Samson M a d d e n eats (/ ii j u b e s , the author renders the whole episode comic ;  as w e l l as p a t h e t i c .  -  The above passage  26  -  a l s o illustrates how Moore varies the  narration of Judith Hearne to include the points of v i e w of minor characters.  G e n e r a l l y their v i e w s , l i k e the v i e w of the author, point  up Judith Hearne's s e l f - d e c e p t i o n s .  It i s , for example, M r . Lenehan,  a fellow-boarder at M r s . R i c e ' s , who is the first to mention that James Madden is showering attentions on M i s s Hearne because he thinks she is wealthy and not, as she t h i n k s , because he is interested in her p e r s o n a l l y , (p. 80)  However / t h e passages narrated by minor characters  a l s o serve to advance the a c t i o n ;  in f a c t , they are often used to describe  Judith Hearne's actions between important s c e n e s .  Chapter X V , for example,  describes what she does from the time she leaves M r s . R i c e ' s boardinghouse u n t i l she is settled in the Plaza H o t e l .  It includes the v i e w s bf  characters as v a r i e d and as marginal as the c a s h i e r in Judith Hearne's bank, the proprietor of a shop for w i n e s and spirits , the c l e r k and the b e l l b o y s at the P l a z a H o t e l , M r . Lenehan'and M i s s F r i e ] / , Bernie and M r s . R i c e , and James M a d d e n ' s drinking companion, Major M a h a f f y - H y d e . By u s i n g minor characters as narrators, M o o r e is o b v i o u s l y opting for a more dramatic means of t e l l i n g his story than a straightforward recounting of events by the author alone w o u l d b e .  H o w e v e r , there is some evidence  that Moore is not easy in this multiple type of narration.  In the first p l a c e ,  he is forced to use the rather u n s o p h i s t i c a t e d and m e c h a n i c a l technique in Chapter VI of e n t i t l i n g the passages w h i c h reflect the v i e w s of minor characters w i t h the names of the s p e a k e r s .  S e c o n d l y , i n the novels w h i c h  follow Judith Hearne Moore tends to l i m i t the point of view to fewer and fewer characters and thus to focus greater and greater attention on the  -  27  central character of each n o v e l . The narration of M o o r e ' s first n o v e l , then, sets a pattern w h i c h is both followed and refined i n t h e later n o v e l s . Although the narration of M o o r e ' s second n o v e l , The Feast of Lupercal,  is l i m i t e d to fewer points of v i e w , the technique of mixing  first and third-person narration is e s s e n t i a l l y the same as that used in Judith H e a r n e .  Diarmuid D e v i n e ' s story is largely told from his point of  view and in his c h a r a c t e r i s t i c language.  Where Judith Hearne has three  chapters completely a l l o t t e d to the points of view of minor characters, The Feast of L u p e r c a l has only one, Chapter VIII, w h i c h , i s told from the points of v i e w of a dancing teacher, a t a i l o r , and student of S t . M i c h a n ' s who is a l s o Una C l a r k e ' s c o u s i n .  Here Moore is u s i n g minor characters  to describe what amounts to unusual behaviour on D e v i n e ' s part as w e l l as events of w h i c h he can have no k n o w l e d g e .  In a d d i t i o n , parts of  other chapters are narrated by minor characters to i l l u s t r a t e how others v i e w D e v i n e ' s actions and to make the narration more d r a m a t i c .  For  example, Moore elects to describe D e v i n e ' s rehearsals w i t h Una p a r t i a l l y as they are seen by the sexton who looks after the h a l l .  He is a crusty  o l d fellow who intensely d i s l i k e s any interruption of his normal r o u t i n e . The reader learns from his complaints that U n a and D e v i n e have been rehearsing very frequently ( p p . 6 2 - 3 ) , that D e v i n e is moved by these "quare r e h e a r s a l s . . . , him and her alone i n this p l a c e , a c t i n g out love stuff," (p.67) and that D e v i n e has shaved off his mustache, (p.68)  The  s e x t o n , u n l i k e an omniscient author, does not d i s c u s s the motivations of their b e h a v i o r , but the reader has no difficulty in-imagining, them for h i m s e l f .  -  28  -  However, as was the c a s e in Judith H e a m e , the o m n i s c i e n t author is never far from the s c e n e .  It is Moore who first describes the sexton w i t h  his sour o l d face set i n a righteous s c o w l , "shouldering his feather duster l i k e a s o l d i e r carrying a r i f l e , " (p. 62) to prepare for the tone the sexton w i l l adopt i n his narration. S i m i l a r l y , s i n c e the n o v e l is concerned w i t h d e p i c t i n g ' D e v i n e as a v i c t i m of a r e p r e s s i v e and c r u e l environment, the author a l w a y s describes the setting and Devine in that setting both before and after moving to D e v i n e ' s point of v i e w .  Chapter II, for i n s t a n c e ,  begins w i t h a d e s c r i p t i o n of D e v i n e approaching Tim Heron's house for the party where he meets Una C l a r k e : A damp night w i n d , b l o w i n g along the C a v e h i l l Road, almost took M r . D e v i n e ' s hat w i t h it as he entered the street where Tim Heron l i v e d . It was a streetof s m a l l , red b r i c k h o u s e s , their bay windows thrust out to r e p e l the stranger; (p. 16) At the end of the chapter the author describes D e v i n e ' s l o n e l y departure from the party: Nobody c a r e s , he thought s a d l y .  I ' l l never be m i s s e d .  '.And. he was n o t . j No one c a l l e d after him "as he shut the front door. It was dark and c o l d in the street. The w i n d sent his hat brim patting gently against his forehead as he bent forward, hurrying to the C a v e h i l l Road and the bus stop (p.34) In the author's descriptions of D e v i n e ' s s i t u a t i o n , even the w i n d is part of the h o s t i l e circumstances w h i c h seem to render D e v i n e as h e l p l e s s as his hat. The author's judgment of the characters^ he introduces in both Judith Hearne and The Feast of L u p e r c a l is implied by the figurative language  29 w i t h w h i c h he describes them.  -  The long-suffering Judith Hearne sits alone  in her b e d - s i t t i n g room, "waiting l i k e a prisoner for the long night hours . " (p. 34) The ludicrous Bernie Rice who is both s p o i l e d and petulant is " l i k e some monstrous baby s w e l l e d to man, s i z e . " (p. 9) The self-righteous M i s s F r i e l , when she is protesting M r s . R i c e ' s preferential feeding of her s o n , has "the air of a woman storming the b a r r i c a d e s . " James Madden,rebutted in argument^ d o c k . " (p.39)  (p. 36) And the e a s i l y - b a i t e d  "gasped l i k e a b i g f i s h landed on a  M o o r e ' s first d e s c r i p t i o n of Tim Heron's appearance c l e a r l y  prepares the reader for Heron's subsequent neurotic and angry treatment of Diarmuid D e v i n e : H i s bony body w a s warped by t i c s and tremblings of suppressed rage, his e l e c t r i c - b l u e eyes f l i c k e r e d to and fro in search of a sneak a t t a c k . H i s hand constantly calmed his brow, smoothing his gray waved h a i r s , e a c h of w h i c h lay s i n g l e on his s k u l l as though drawn on in p e n c i l , (p.17) S i m i l a r l y , when D e v i n e ' s M r s . G r u n d y i s h landlady is outraged by D e v i n e ' s behaviour, she is p i c t u r e d , "enormous in the doorway, staring down at him 1  w i t h the serenity of the apex figures in a monument to motherhood. " (p. 178) But although she s o l i d l y stands for m o r a l i t y , Moore a l s o suggests that there is something faintly r i d i c u l o u s about her u n y i e l d i n g bulk when he shows her, "backing s l i g h t l y , . . . l e t t i n g her great v e l v e t rump meet the edge of the armchair, l i k e an a i r l i n e r ' s undercarriage, s w i n g i n g s l o w l y into p o s i t i o n . " (p.179)  T h u s , without overt;comment Moore is influencing the  reader's opinions s i n c e his figurative language not only s u p p l i e s the facts about these people but a l s o the feel of the facts . ,  30 In M o o r e ' s first two n o v e l s , then, his narrative technique is an important means of presenting the central figure who is the subject of the n o v e l . As Dorothy Van Ghent e x p l a i n s i n her d i s c u s s i o n of R i c h a r d s o n ' s narrative method in C l a r i s s a , the author must always consider his subject when d e c i d i n g on a particular point of view: The t e c h n i c a l problem w i t h w h i c h we are confronted here is that of the "point of v i e w " (or "focus of narration"), a problem w h i c h may be phrased thus: given a certain k i n d of subject matter, how c a n it be brought into focus for the reader? From what " a n g l e " , what point of o b s e r v a t i o n , can the drama best be seen? From the author's own? or from that of the chief character i n the n o v e l ? or from that of one of the minor characters? or from the points of v i e w of s e v e r a l characters? or from some presumably automatic and m e c h a n i c a l point of view (like that of a camera)? Moore uses three of these methods in Judith Hearne and The Feast of Lupercal . The b a s i c narrator is Moore whose ironic juxtapositions and figurative language influence the reader's attitude to the protagonist and other c h a r a c t e r s . But for much of each n o v e l , the narrative v o i c e is that of the protagonist. . who r e v e a l s himself in his own w o r d s . And o c c a s i o n a l l y , the speaker is a minor character whose comments provide an ironic commentary on the a c t i o n s of the protagonist.  The manner in w h i c h the story is told n e c e s s a r i l y affects  the way the reader perceives the protagonist. The reader is both sympathet i c a l l y drawn to the central character who appears to address him d i r e c t l y and i r o n i c a l l y made aware of the protagonist's i l l u s i o n s when the author or minor characters take up the n a r r a t i v e . . M o o r e ' s handling of point of view in his third n o v e l , The Luck of Ginger C o f f e y ,  constitutes to some extent a s p e c i a l c a s e .  In an interview  31 w i t h Richard B . S a l e , Moore confesses that the idea w h i c h governed his choice of narrative method was a c t u a l l y b a s e d on a misconception: When I wrote The Luck of Ginger Coffey I had read an interview w i t h Alberto M o r a v i a in w h i c h he s a i d , "One of the most interesting things for a writer to do is to write a f i r s t - p e r s o n narrative i n the t h i r d - p e r s o n , w r i t i n g it from a f i r s t - p e r s o n point of v i e w . " And that's what I tried to do in G i n g e r . Years later I met M o r a v i a and t o l d him I ' d read what he s a i d . He told me: "I w a s n ' t t a l k i n g about anybody doing that t o d a y . I was t a l k i n g about C e a s a r ' s G a l l i c W a r s . " In another interview w i t h Robert Fulford, Moore describes his handling of point of view as a k i n d of t e c h n i c a l experiment: This book was a f i r s t - p e r s o n n o v e l written in the third p e r s o n . In other w o r d s , I tried to have everything seen through the eyes, of my central character. That's very l i m i t i n g , but it was interesting to t r y , t e c h n i c a l l y , and it a l s o gave the book a unity .ry. But, i n point of fact, the narrative technique of Ginger Coffey  is not  markedly different from that of the two earlier n o v e l s . A g a i n the story is filtered through the c o n s c i o u s n e s s , o f the central character, Ginger C o f f e y , and the same mixing of first and third-person narration occurs . Contrary to what Moore s a y s , the novel is not written e x c l u s i v e l y in the t h i r d - p e r s o n , and even when Moore uses the t h i r d - p e r s o n , the d i c t i o n w h i c h is o b v i o u s l y G i n g e r ' s creates p r e c i s e l y the effect of f i r s t - p e r s o n narration.  A typical  paragraph i l l u s t r a t e s that the handling of point of view is very s i m i l a r to that of the first two n o v e l s : ' Y e s , d e a r . ' F l u t e ! . C o u l d n ' t a man get a bit of breakfast into him before she started that nattering? He knew about t e l l i n g Madam B e a u l i e u . A l l r i g h t . (p.4) O b v i o u s l y , Moore is m i x i n g first and third-person narration in this passage and is not at a l l w r i t i n g s o l e l y - i n the t h i r d - p e r s o n .  A l t h o u g h : i t is generally  32  -  true, as Moore c l a i m s , that everything is seen through the eyes of the central character, Ginger himself is often described from the author's point of v i e w . A sentence such a s , "And s o , at one. in the morning, when Coffey rode home on the bus', a newly printed newspaper on his l a p , he had, by his habitual processes of r a t i o c i n a t i o n , c o n v i n c e d himself that the day was not a defeat but a v i c t o r y , " (p. 78) c l e a r l y communicates the author's o p i n i o n of Ginger in the author's language.  The c o n t r o l l i n g v i s i o n  of the author, though l e s s obvious than G i n g e r ' s , is perceptible throughout the n o v e l . One feature of the narrative technique does differentiate Ginger Coffey  from the earlier n o v e l s : on only three o c c a s i o n s does  Moore introduce the v i e w s of minor characters and these instances are not prolonged. Apparently Moore cannot r e s i s t the ironic i m p l i c a t i o n s of the opinions that two C a n a d i a n businessmen have of G i n g e r ' s inappropriate outfitting as a D u b l i n s q u i r e , and he a l l o w s them their s a y .  (pp.23,136)  He a l s o includes a brief comment by one of his fellow proof-readers  (pp. 210-211)  on G i n g e r ' s erratic behaviour after M a c G r e g o r refuses him a reporter's job . The c o n s i s t e n c y w i t h w h i c h Moore does narrate the- novel from G i n g e r ' s point of v i e w , however, and the reduction of the v i e w s of minor characters do mark a s i g n i f i c a n t change in M o o r e ' s narrative technique and do bear out his c l a i m that Ginger Coffey is. a "first-person n o v e l . " M o o r e ' s fourth n o v e l , A n Answer From L i m b o , i l l u s t r a t e s , in part, a l o g i c a l progression in his s t y l e , s i n c e sections of it are a c t u a l l y written i n the f i r s t - p e r s o n .  In this n o v e l , Moore replaces the u s u a l d i v i s i o n by  chapters w i t h shorter sections, w h i c h contain the views of the three main characters.  Brendan Tierney, his mother, E i l e e n T i e r n e y , and his w i f e ,  -  33  -  Jane T i e r n e y , each take up the narrative by turns, so that the point of v i e w of each character is kept constantly before the reader w h i l e the story never lags.  But of these three narrative strands, only Brendan's is written in  the f i r s t - p e r s o n throughout.  The sections devoted to E i l e e n Tierney and  to Jane Tierney are narrated by the author w i t h frequent shifts to the direct words of the character c o n c e r n e d .  In a d d i t i o n , the drama w h i c h i n v o l v e s  a l l three is a l s o d e s c r i b e d from the points of v i e w of characters who are indirectly involved.  For example, an incident in Brendan's struggle to  become a published n o v e l i s t is c a u s t i c a l l y described by his f e l l o w - w r i t e r , M a x B r o n s t e i n , to Brendan's disadvantage;  and the seduction of Jane  Tierney i s c o l d l y planned by Vito I t a l i a n o , who c a l c u l a t i n g l y plays on Jane's w e a k n e s s e s .  Of the n o v e l ' s fifty-eight s e c t i o n s , eight are given  over to minor characters, fifteen to Jane, s i x t e e n to M r s . T i e r n e y , and nineteen to Brendan. C l e a r l y , Brendan is the character who r e c e i v e s the greatest attention in this allotment of narrative s p a c e .  M o r e o v e r , Brendan's s e c t i o n s ,  the only ones narrated in the f i r s t - p e r s o n , are generally l o n g e r .  Brendan  is a l s o the only character who seems aware that he is t h i n k i n g or " r e f l e c t i n g " a story.  N a t u r a l l y , as a w r i t e r , he is more given to observing the other  characters a n d , i n p a r t i c u l a r , to o b s e r v i n g h i m s e l f , a pastime w h i c h he seems to enjoy.  In a s e n s e , then, Brendan emerges as the central  character in the n o v e l and his longer, autobiographical sections w i t h their s e l f - c o n s c i o u s language r e v e a l much about his character.  A t y p i c a l para-  graph written from Brendan's point of view is dotted w i t h "I's" w h i c h are the subject of every sentence:  '  . _I am happy. _I cannot e x p l a i n this happiness except to say that_I wake each morning sure that there i s no place i n the world I_ woul d rather be than' here, nothing i n the w o r l d I_ w o u l d rather do than get on the subway and go down to that shabby, a i r l e s s room. I_ feel a sense of excitement w h i c h I_ would not have b e l i e v e d p o s s i b l e . . I_ am not bored or l o n e l y . I_ w i s h this state to l a s t forever but, of c o u r s e , it is almost o v e r . . I_ am nearing the l a s t paragraph and the rest is r e v i s i o n . On Sunday, before I_ start those r e v i s i o n s , Sidney Gerston wants to read the l a s t two chapters. I_ am not worried about his verdict; not i n the l e a s t . : I_ know the b o o k v l s r i g h t . I_ have never been so confident of anything i n my l i f e . (pp.245-6) (my i t a l i c s ) Brendan's egotism may be the r e s u l t of or even the requirement for creative a c t i v i t y , but it a l s o renders him i n c r e d i b l y i n s e n s i t i v e to the needs of his wife and mother. At the very moment that he is d e c l a i m i n g his sheer h a p p i n e s s , Jane Tierney is a g o n i z i n g over her miserable adultery and the concurrent failure of her marriage, and M r s . . T i e r n e y is suffering the r e j e c t i o n of her c h i l d r e n as she i s left to fend for herself in a l o n e l y New York apartment.  S i n c e Brendan's sections are written i n the f i r s t - p e r s o n ,  the author's v i e w of his behavior is never e x p l i c i t l y p h r a s e d .  However,  M o o r e ' s condemnation of Brendan's egotism is implied by the j u x t a p o s i t i o n of his narrative w i t h those s e c t i o n s devoted to the other c h a r a c t e r s .  This  condemnation is nowhere more obvious than i n the final portion of the novel where the passages w h i c h describe M r s . . T i e r n e y ' s painful death are immediately juxtaposed to those sections i n w h i c h Brendan's frantic o b j e c t IcmsTto his editor's demands for a few apparently i n c o n s e q u e n t i a l changes  35  -  in his n o v e l prompt him to behave in a near-demented fashion a n d , n a t u r a l l y , to abandon his mother.  There is no m i s t a k i n g the author's v i e w  of Brendan's c r u e l thoughtlessness .when this .section in w h i c h ' M r s . Tierney d i e s : I'm not d y i n g , O my G o d , I'm not d y i n g , help me, somebody come, somebody please come, somebody, h e l p , Grattan — Brendan — Rory — help me? Somebody, p l e a s e ? The thump, I feel i t , a f r a i d , O p l e a s e , I'm w o r s e , I know i t , w o r s e , my breath, can't get, my br Love me? is immediately followed by Brendan's i n s i p i d whinings over l o s i n g face: Today I d i d something so embarrassing that I can hardly bear to remember i t . Even now I cannot credit that I , of a l l people, made such an'abject fool of m y s e l f , (p. 290) Even though the author is o b s t e n s i b l y absent from. Brendan's first person narration, he c l e a r l y does make a comment on Brendan's character,  just  as he a l s o contrasts Jane T i e r n e y ' s s e l f i s h n e s s to M r s . T i e r n e y ' s s e l f l e s s n e s s by the p o s i t i o n i n g of their s e c t i o n s .  And w h i l e their portions of  the narrative are written i n M o o r e ' s u s u a l s t y l e of mixed first and t h i r d person narration, Moore does a l l o w both characters to speak for themselves in large measure just as Brendan d o e s .  E s s e n t i a l l y , then, A n Answer from  L i m b o , is a series of three f i r s t - p e r s o n narratives artfully intertwined w i t h each other and w i t h the v i e w s of minor characters to add further depths to the c h a r a c t e r i z a t i o n . The Emperor of I c e - C r e a m , M o o r e ' s fifth n o v e l , w h i c h has o n l y one main character, demonstrates a further narrowing of the narrative f o c u s .  -  36  M o o r e ' s t y p i c a l mixture of first and third-person narration here i n v o l v e s only two -narrators, G a v i n Burke and the author.  At no times does Moore  devote an entire chapter or even a s e c t i o n of the n o v e l to the point of v i e w of a s u b s i d i a r y character as he does in An Answer From Limbo and other e a r l i e r n o v e l s .  But the author does e x e r c i s e his power of o m n i s c i e n c e  to move freely into the minds of Ga in and his acquaintances to relate what v  they are t h i n k i n g although he does abstain from commenting on their behaviour.  The author, for example, recounts that "Freddy {Hargreaves}  considered himself an independent M a r x i s t , " ( p . 2 2 ) , that S o l d i e r (MacBrideJ wanted to become C r a i g ' s deputy, "and if getting the job meant k i s s i n g C r a i g ' s Royal I r i s h a r s e , then S o l d i e r could do i t , on his s o u l he c o u l d , " ( p . 2 7 ) , and that S a l l y Shannon "had been more than keen on G a v i n Burke, even though he was a year younger than she and an awful baby in some ways . " (p .53) As u s u a l when Moore elects to d i s c l o s e what a character is t h i n k i n g , he adopts that character's i d i o s y n c r a t i c language.  And s i n c e G a v i n Burke  is the only character to share the narration w i t h the author, much of the n o v e l is related by G a v i n in his s p e c i a l d i c t i o n .  G a v i n ' s : i n d e c i s i o n s are  often represented as an argument between his two angels: W e l l , Burke, s a i d the W h i t e Guardian A n g e l . Are you a man or a mouse? Take off your r a i n c o a t . Y e s , and put your t i n hat on w h i l e you're at i t , mocked the Black A n g e l . Salute that N a v a l lieutenant, he's your superior. N o n s e n s e , the W h i t e Angel s a i d . You're a c i v i l i a n , he has no authority^over y o u . How can you be sure, the Black Angel w h i s p e r e d , (p.35)  By means of the t w o - a n g e l c o n v e n t i o n , Moore dramatically renders G a v i n ' s inner c o n f l i c t s until G a v i n outgrows his angels and replaces them w i t h the single v o i c e of maturity. This t r a d i t i o n a l story of growing up i s , appropriately, the l e a s t experimental in narrative technique of a l l M o o r e ' s f i c t i o n .  The use of the  omniscient author is a l s o appropriate to the s e m i - a u t o b i o g r a p h i c a l  subject  7 of youth maturing,  s i n c e , as Dorothy Van Ghent e x p l a i n s , the point of  v i e w of the omniscient author " i m p l i e s a removed standpoint," and "a 8 godlike sweep of v i s i o n and knowledge of the meaning of e v e n t s , " the mature Moore presumably can e x e r c i s e .  which  The point of v i e w is a l s o more  l i m i t e d in The Emperor of I c e - C r e a m than, in any previous Moore novel.' Moore concentrates his narrative powers on the development of G a v i n Burke's character to the e x c l u s i o n of minor characters as he never has before. .It is not s u r p r i s i n g , then, that Moore should next write a n o v e l w h i c h focuses even more intently on the protagonist by making her the sole narrator.  I Am M a r y D u n n e , Moore!s s i x t h n o v e l , is written entirely in the  f i r s t - p e r s o n . . The s i g n i f i c a n c e of f i r s t - p e r s o n narration l i e s , as Wayne Booth has pointed out, in the character of the narrator: Perhaps the most overworked d i s t i n c t i o n is that of p e r s o n . To say that a story is told in the first or the third person w i l l t e l l us nothing of importance unless we become more precise and describe how the particular q u a l i t i e s of the narrators relate to s p e c i f i c effects.Q  -  38  -  Several of M a r y Dunne's character traits w h i c h influence any reading of her story are apparent in the first pages of the n o v e l . From the beginning the reader perceives that M a r y Dunne is i n t e l l i g e n t , enough so to be concerned w i t h p h i l o s o p h i c a l i s s u e s l i k e the nature of e x i s t e n c e . The first scene of the novel is followed by M a r y ' s s p e c u l a t i o n : If we are what we remember, d i d that g i r l I was die because I forgot her? As n o w , perhaps, I am b e ginning to die because some future me cannot keep me in m i n d . (p.3) S e c o n d l y , the reader can immediately sense the nervous t e n s i o n w h i c h pervades M a r y D u n n e , not only because she freely confesses i t , but a l s o because her d i c t i o n reveals her anxiety: . . . t h e n shut up, heart, calm down, there's nothing to be afraid o f . I t e l l this to my heart as I would t e l l it to a very stupid p e r s o n . I t e l l it it is a perfectly normal heart: the reason i t ' s a c t i n g up is a n x i e t y . I t e l l it no wonder i t ' s a c t i n g up after a day l i k e today, and e s p e c i a l l y tonight w i t h that story about H a t . But. that has nothing to do w i t h me, no matter what people s a y , it has nothing to do w i t h me, a l l that i s over and done w i t h , I'm in love w i t h Terence, I'm happily married at l a s t , the only thing we haven't got is c h i l d r e n , but that w i l l come, the doctor says we're both fine so that w i l l be a l l right t o o . (p.4) M a r y Dunne's near hysteria is a l s o communicated by very long run-on sentences here and elsewhere i n the n o v e l . T h i r d l y , one is soon aware of M a r y Dunne's s e n s i t i v i t y . The f i r s t few pages of the n o v e l r e v e a l that she i s . c o n s t a n t l y atune to what other people are t h i n k i n g about her. She remembers t h i n k i n g of Mother Superior's smile in c l a s s , "Tt c o u l d mean, 'A s i l l y g i r l has misunderstood D e s c a r t e s , ' or 'See how we have  -  39  -  engaged the attention of M a r y D u n n e ' . " (p. 3) She senses that the r e s p e c t a b l e - l o o k i n g man on the street who makes an obscene remark . to her is e x c i t e d by the outrage v i s i b l e in her f a c e . (p.7)  And she  knows that the young b o y , a friend of her former s t e p - s o n , does not b e l i e v e her when she says that she remembers his unusual surname. (p.10)  M a r y Dunne's i n t e l l i g e n c e , her a n x i e t y , and her s e n s i t i v i t y  i n e v i t a b l y affect her account of a d a y ' s encounters w i t h friends and relatives and the memories w h i c h the day's events e v o k e .  ,  • In a d d i t i o n , M a r y Dunne's narration is further influenced by her notion of herself as narrator. L i k e M o o r e ' s other s e l f - c o n s c i o u s narrator, Brendan T i e r n e y , she is intent on relating e v e r y t h i n g .  In the  beginning she hopes that, "far from l o s i n g my memory, I c o u l d , if I put my mind to i t , remember every single thought, w o r d , and deed that happened to me t o d a y , " (p.4) and ends on a note of confidence, "And s e e , when I put my mind to i t , I d i d manage to remember most of the thoughts, w o r d s , and deeds of today, and now I w i l l not p a n i c . . . " (p.217)  Part  way through the novel M a r y remarks w i t h t y p i c a l honesty: This is a~story of how I lost part of my innocence, l o s t part of that M a r y Dunne who left B u t c h e r s v i l l e and never can go b a c k . It is a story of what money did to m e . If I am to learn anything from past m i s t a k e s , then there's no sense blaming it a l l on Jimmy, (p. 139) If the reader is to b e l i e v e that M a r y Dunne is honestly trying to e s t a b l i s h her sense of s e l f by faithfully r e c a l l i n g her p a s t , then the reader has to b e l i e v e in her i n t e g r i t y .  T h i s . q u a l i t y is gradually revealed i n the n o v e l ,  particularly in M a r y Dunne's conversations w i t h Janice S l o a n e .  As far as  -  40  -  t r i v i a l matters are concerned, such as Janice's mistake about the name of a restaurant, M a r y p o l i t e l y l i e s or is s i l e n t to a v o i d hurting Janice's feelings or sparking a pointless argument.  But when they begin to d i s c u s s  important i s s u e s , l i k e the question of Janice's husband's i n f i d e l i t y , then M a r y ' s , integrity emerges..  It is c l e a r that M a r y is a p p a l l e d by Janice's  intention to d e c e i v e her philandering husband in turn as w e l l as b y Janice's s e l f i s h notion of s e e k i n g revenge by buying an expensive.fur c o a t .  It is  a l s o c l e a r from what M a r y confesses about her two previous i l l - f a t e d marriages that she has learned the n e c e s s i t y of never d e c e i v i n g herself or others:  r  •  '  .  .  . And l a t e r , very late that night, I l a y awake b e s i d e Hat in the dark and I remember a tiny f e e l i n g that it hadn't been a l l it might have b e e n , a f e e l i n g so s m a l l , so unwelcome to my mood that night that I d i s m i s s e d i t . I never should have d i s m i s s e d i t . N e v e r . For the central thing was no better than it had been w i t h Jimmy. I knew i t , yet I d i d not want to know it and that was my fault, my fault, my most grievous f a u l t , (pp.34-5) C l e a r l y , M a r y Dunne has learned from past mistakes to be honest. As M a r y Dunne relates her d a y ' s "thoughts, w o r d s , and d e e d s , " her i n t e l l i g e n c e , a n x i e t y , s e n s i t i v i t y , and integrity are a l l revealed to the reader.  But in a d d i t i o n , the reader becomes i n c r e a s i n g l y aware of her  vulnerability.  Pre-menstral t e n s i o n makes her nervous and depressed  and intensifies the anxiety she would normally feel over Janice S l o a n e ' s d u p l i c i t y , Ernie Truelove's s e l f i s h c l a i m s to her a f f e c t i o n , and the suggestion by both of them that she is to blame for her second husband's death.  She  even feels, threatened by Karl Dieter Peters's harmless charade as a potential  41 l e s s e e for her apartment. in general;  -  In fact, she feels menaced by the world of men  as she points out herself when she r e a l i z e s that she has no  recourse after she is v e r b a l l y molested in the street, "You c a n ' t fight male s o l i d a r i t y . " (p. 7) By the end of the d a y , M a r y has been driven by feelings of guilt and suggestions of impending madness to fear even her third husband, Terence, to whom she has been happily m a r r i e d . The effect of M a r y Dunne's fragile psyche on her narrative is to increase the reader's sympathy for her.  Wayne Booth has noted that any f i r s t - p e r s o n  narration increases the reader's sympathy for the narrator: Perhaps the most important effect of t r a v e l i n g w i t h a narrator who is unaccompanied by a helpful author i s that of decreasing emotional d i s t a n c e . W e have seen that much t r a d i t i o n a l commentary was used to increase sympathy or to a p o l o g i z e for f a u l t s . When an author chooses to forgo s u c h r h e t o r i c , he may do so because he does not care about c o n v e n t i o n a l sympathy, l i k e G i d e i n L e s C a v e s du V a t i c a n . But he may a l s o do so because his central i n t e l l i g e n c e is of the kind that w i l l seem most sympathetic if presented as an i s o l a t e d , unaided c o n s c i o u s n e s s , without the support that a r e l i a b l e narrator or observer would l e n d . In the case of I Am M a r y D u n n e , the reader's sympathy for M a r y Dunne is heightened by his sense of her v a l u a b l e q u a l i t i e s and of her v u l n e r a b i l i t y in a sometimes h o s t i l e w o r l d . Although M a r y Dunne is "unaccompanied by a helpful author", it is nevertheless c l e a r that Brian M o o r e , the implied author of I Am M a r y Dunne does sympathize w i t h her.  H i s values Obviously approach those of M a r y  Dunne and her husband, Terence L a v e r y , who are both morally and i n t e l l e c , t u a l l y superior to most of the other characters in the n o v e l . ;  Terence, for  42 example, shares M a r y Dunne's w e l l - p l a c e d d i s l i k e of the b o o r i s h Ernie Truelove whom he upbraids for wanting to hurt M a r y .  M o o r e ' s concern  for M a r y Dunne is a l s o implied by therho-peful c o n c l u s i o n of the n o v e l . By the end of the n o v e l Mary has rejected the a c c u s a t i o n s of r e s p o n s i b i l i t y for Hat B e l l ' s death, she has demonstrated to herself that she does'-hot want to commit s u i c i d e , and she has d i s c o v e r e d that she does have a s i n g l e identity w h i c h does not alter no matter how often she changes her name or others change it for her. And s o , the reader who travels alone w i t h M a r y Dunne can sense that her creator w i s h e s his heroine w e l l .  Brian  Moore h a s , in f a c t , spoken of his empathy w i t h M a r y Dunne: I am M a r y D u n n e , because I have taken my own life and transmogrified it into h e r s . I have taken my years of wandering from country to country, my changes of n a t i o n a l i t y , my forgettings, rememberings, my feelings of b e i n g lost and a stranger and have . . . made them hers. 11 One might expect Moore to show equal or even greater sympathy for Fergus Fadden, the hero of M o o r e ' s seventh n o v e l , F e r g u s , since Moore resembles Fergus in many more ways than he does M a r y D u n n e . Fergus is an I r i s h , male, n o v e l i s t , whose upbringing and s c h o o l i n g , emigration to North A m e r i c a , and subsequent career as a film writer a l l resemble M o o r e ' s experiences.  However, the same empathy between author and central  character is not evident in F e r g u s . A certain distance between them is: in part created by the ghost convention w i t h w h i c h Moore introduces Ferguses) past.  C l e a r l y , neither Moore nor the reader b e l i e v e s in g h o s t s .  Yet Fergus  is bound by the content of the novel to take the ghosts s e r i o u s l y . As one reviewer c o m p l a i n s , "For me the weakness of the book emerges i n F e r g u s ' v i r t u a l l y total inability to defend h i m s e l f , to mount any sort of counter-attack, to send them [the ghosts] p a c k i n g . "  In a d d i t i o n , because  Moore has reverted to his earlier technique of mixing first and t h i r d - p e r s o n narration rather than d u p l i c a t i n g the straight f i r s t - p e r s o n narrative of I Am M a r y D u n n e , Fergus appears as l e s s a character w i t h whom Brian Moore identifies than as a character he p r e s e n t s .  True, Moore and Fergus  share a common background and perhaps even the same moral dilemmas; s t i l l one senses a c r i t i c a l c o o l n e s s between author and protagonist w h i c h is not suggested in I Am M a r y D u n n e . M o r e o v e r , the presence of the author  and i n Fergus  much of the narration is in the t h i r d - p e r s o n  diminishes the c o n f e s s i o n a l tone w h i c h in M a r y Dunne's f i r s t - p e r s o n narration has the effect of l i n k i n g author and narrator. point of v i e w in Fergus  The handling of  indicates that this "portrait of the a r t i s t " is not  a portrait of Brian M o o r e . Although M o o r e ' s r e v e r s i o n to the narrative technique of h i s e a r l i e r novels appears to be a retreat from what is regarded as a s t y l i s t i c break13 through i n I Am M a r y Dunne,  i n other respects Fergus does mark an  advance i n M o o r e ' s narrative technique from The Emperor of I c e - C r e a m . The o m n i s c i e n t author of that novel moves freely into the minds of other characters b e s i d e s G a v i n Burke to inform the reader what they are t h i n k i n g . In F e r g u s ,  however, the author's o m n i s c i e n c e is l i m i t e d to Fergus so that  he becomes the centre of the n o v e l ' s attention to an even greater extent  than G a v i n B u r k e .  In part, this r e s t r i c t i o n of the focus of narration is  due again to the ghost convention s i n c e the ghosts are a c t u a l l y extensions of Fergus p s y c h e . 1  But the thoughts of characters who do have minds of  their o w n , such as D a n i , M r s . S i n c l a i r , and B o w e r i , are never r e v e a l e d except insofar as they speak their minds i n c o n v e r s a t i o n s .  The narration  of Fergus is focused on Fergus and his point of view almost as fully as if Moore had written the n o v e l i n the f i r s t - p e r s o n .  A n d , of c o u r s e , as i n  a l l M o o r e ' s novels of mixed first and third-person narration, much of the narrative is spoken by Fergus h i m s e l f . He recounts his meetings w i t h Boweri and R e d s h i e l d s , and his courtship of D a n i , and even his dialogues w i t h his ghosts may be regarded as dramatized interior monologues.  The  concentration on Fergus and the concomitant e x c l u s i o n of other points of v i e w are appropriate to this n o v e l , for the c r i s i s w h i c h Fergus must o v e r come is entirely his own and the r e s o l u t i o n w h i c h concludes the n o v e l applies only to h i m s e l f . It is a l s o this concentration on Fergus who is always at the centre of the novel w h i c h d i s t i n g u i s h e s Fergus novels s u c h as Judith Hearne  from e a r l i e r  in w h i c h Judith Hearne is o c c a s i o n a l l y pushed  aside to make way for other points of v i e w .  Fergus marks a further step  in the gradual evolution w h i c h - i s evident in the intervening novels from a multiple to a more l i m i t e d point of v i e w , and t h u s , to a greater c o n c e n tration on the character of the protagonist. Another factor w h i c h n e c e s s a r i l y influences the d e p i c t i o n of the protagonist is the attitude taken towards him by the implied author of each n o v e l . In most of his n o v e l s Moore remains sympathetic but distant from the main  character:  45  -  he portrays both their strengths and their w e a k n e s s e s and he  a l l o w s them to speak for themselves w h i l e a l s o presenting the contrasting v i e w s of other c h a r a c t e r s .  The author's o b j e c t i v i t y is further attested to  by his desire to write d r a m a t i c a l l y , to present rather than to t e l l .  Moore  g e n e r a l l y , for example, conveys the p h y s i c a l appearance of his main characters by their mirror image. This often repeated d e v i c e in M o o r e ' s novels is frequently awkward though.indicative of the author's desire to remain outside the s c e n e .  A s W a y n e Booth points out, "When we remember  the many cumbersome ' m i r r o r - v i e w s ' - - 'What he saw i n the mirror was a man of middle height' — we see how much trouble the desire.to dramatize such d e s c r i p t i v e d e t a i l c a n c a u s e . M o o r e ' s distance from his protagonist i s never quite the same in every n o v e l , however.  In fact, his attitude to the main character becomes  ever more sympathetic as he restricts the point of v i e w i n each s u c c e e d i n g 'novel.  In the first three novels Moore i s aT"sympathetic but detached observer  of the fates of Judith Hearne, Diarmuid D e v i n e , and Ginger C o f f e y .  One  s e n s e s , in p a r t i c u l a r , the i n t e l l e c t u a l distance between Moore and these three characters, e s p e c i a l l y insofar as they are examples of an I r i s h . C a t h o l i c provincialism.  M o o r e ' s attitude to the three Tierneys is more c o m p l e x . W h i l e  M r s . Tierney i s a t y p i c a l Irish p r o v i n c i a l , Moore o b v i o u s l y presents her as a moral example to Brendan and Jane.  Brendan, however, is more M o o r e ' s  i n t e l l e c t u a l e q u a l . L a t e r , in The Emperor of I c e - C r e a m , Moore appears both morally and i n t e l l e c t u a l l y c l o s e r to G a v i n Burke.  He o b v i o u s l y shares G a v i n ' s  -  46  -  contempt for his f a m i l y ' s outdated p o l i t i c a l a t t i t u d e s , and for C r a i g ' s cruel s t u p i d i t y , w h i l e he approves of G a v i n ' s attempts to find meaning for himself in modern poetry.  P a r a d o x i c a l l y , in the one n o v e l in w h i c h  M o o r e ' s v o i c e as author is never heard, I Am M a r y D u n n e , "his_ r e l a t i o n to the protagonist is the c l o s e s t of a l l . It i s perhaps because of his moral and i n t e l l e c t u a l i d e n t i f i c a t i o n w i t h M a r y Dunne that he does not need to speak in his own p e r s o n .  The events i n Fergus confirm that the  author agrees w i t h Fergus';- .estimation of his l i f e :  "In the past year his  l i f e seemed to have become some other person's story, a f a r c i c a l tragedy or a t r a g i c a l farce from w h i c h he was trying to emerge and start a new l i f e . " (p.10)  But although Moore is c r i t i c a l of Fergus for his sins of  the p a s t , he is s t i l l o b v i o u s l y c l o s e r to Fergus i n terms of i n t e l l e c t and v a l u e s than he i s to one of his earlier protagonists such as Ginger C o f f e y . The e v o l v i n g r e l a t i o n between Moore and the protagonists of his seven novels reaches a degree of greatest proximity in I Am M a r y Dunne and to a l e s s e r extent i n . F e r g u s . And so it appears that Moore grows i n c r e a s i n g l y c l o s e r to the protagonist of each s u c c e e d i n g n o v e l , just as his concentration on the character of the protagonist is i n t e n s i f i e d by the narrowing of the narrative f o c u s . The d i v e r s i t y i n narrative method of Brian M o o r e ' s seven novels i l l u s t r a t e s his a r t i s t i c awareness of the many ways a story can be t o l d . From the s e v e r a l speakers i n Judith Hearne to the single v o i c e of I Am Mary Dunne,  from the ironic distance of the author of The Feast of L u p e r c a l  to the sympathetic i d e n t i f i c a t i o n of the author and protagonist in  -  47  -  The Emperor of I c e - C r e a m , and from the multiple v i e w points of A n Answer from Limbo to the r e s t r i c t e d v i e w of The Luck of Ginger Coffey , Moore e a s i l y adapts his rhetoric to present his protagonist and his tale as effectively as p o s s i b l e .  The important consideration as Wayne Booth  e x p l a i n s , is not the particular method chosen but the s k i l l w i t h w h i c h the author t e l l s his story: We have seen that the author cannot choose to a v o i d rhetoric; he can choose only the k i n d of rhetoric he w i l l e m p l o y . . He cannot choose whether or not to affect his reader's evaluation by his c h o i c e of narrat i v e manner; he can only choose whether to do it w e l l or p o o r l y . 10 Inasmuch as Moore frequently defers to the point of v i e w and the v o i c e of the protagonist, his narrative method reveals his s k i l l in u s i n g narrat i v e techniques for the d e p i c t i o n of character as w e l l as for t e l l i n g his tale.  Once a g a i n , M o o r e ' s technique points up his dominating interest  in the central character of each n o v e l .  -  48  -  Footnotes for Chapter II *Wayne C . - Booth, The Rhetoric of F i c t i o n C h i c a g o P r e s s , 1961), p . 1 5 3 .  (The U n i v e r s i t y of  ' W a y n e Booth, The Rhetoric of F i c t i o n , p . 2 0 . 2  Dorothy Van Ghent, The E n g l i s h N o v e l : Form and Function (New York: Harper & Row, 1953),pp.45-46 . 'i 4 Richard B . S a l e , "An Interview in London w i t h Brian M o o r e , " (Studies in the N o v e l , I(Spring, 1962)', p . 1 0 . ^Robert Fuhford, " Interviews Brian M o o r e , " The Tamarack R e v i e w , 23 (Spring, 1962), p . 1 0 . 6 In one i n s t a n c e , Moore drops his objective stance to make a d i g at Freddy Hargreaves' p o l i t i c s . . H a v i n g learned that C a p t a i n Lambert has been e v i c t e d from his l o d g i n g s , Freddy forgets his usualzdistain for the C a p t a i n to come to his a i d . As Moore points out, "Freddy might not have much time for the C a p t a i n , but a man without a bed was a man i n c o n f l i c t w i t h the s y s t e m . " (p. 78). .7 In an interview w i t h Richard B . S a l e , Moore s a i d that The Emperor of I c e - C r e a m is his most autobiographical n o v e l . See-Studies i n the N o v e l , I (Spring, 1969), p . 7 3 . 8 Dorothy Van Ghent, The E n g l i s h N o v e l , p . 4 6 . .  9 v  T h e Rhetoric of F i c t i o n , p . 1 5 0 . 10 . The Rhetoric of F i c t i o n , p . 2 7 4 .  Brian Moore T e l l s About I Am M a r y Dunne, " zine (July, 1968), p . 5 .  'Literary G u i l d M a g a -  12 Julian M o y n a h a n , "On t r i a l a t a ghostly family p i c n i c : New York Times Book Review (Sept.. 2-7, 1970), p . 4 .  Fergus , "  S e e , for example, H a l l v a r d ' D a h l i e , Brian Moore (Toronto: C o p p , C l a r k , 1969), p.104, or P h i l i p F r e n c h , " M a r y ' s D a y , " New Statesman, 76 (Oct. 2 5 , 1968), p . 5 5 0 . 14 The Rhetoric of F i c t i o n , p . 1 7 2 . The Rhetoric of F i c t i o n , p . 1 4 9 .  CHAPTER III  49  LANGUAGE  Brian M o o r e ' s artful handling of point of v i e w concentrates  the  reader's attention on the central character of each n o v e l , but it is. M o o r e ' s consummate s k i l l with language w h i c h makes his characters spring to l i f e . The f i c t i o n a l world of any n o v e l , as D a v i d Lodge shows in Language of F i c t i o n , is a v e r b a l w o r l d , "determined at every point by the words i n w h i c h it is represented."*  In M o o r e ' s novels language plays a p a r t i -  c u l a r l y important part in the c h a r a c t e r i z a t i o n of the protagonist because the narrative v o i c e is often the protagonist's and because the novels themselves proceed l a r g e l y by dialogues w h i c h are a l w a y s r e a l i s t i c . Moore is p a r t i c u l a r l y adept at reproducing the i d i o l e c t s of a wide s e l e c t i o n of people:  from Belfast l a n d l a d i e s to New York s o p h i s t i c a t e s , he captures  i d i o s y n c r a c i e s of speech w h i c h strike the reader as a b s o l u t e l y a u t h e n t i c . In a d d i t i o n , M o o r e ' s language is t h e p r i n c i p a l s o u r c e of humour i n his f i c t i o n , w h i c h is rarely comic i n mode.  S t i l l the most s i g n i f i c a n t feature,  of M o o r e ' s s t y l e , w h i c h i l l u s t r a t e s again his concern w i t h the central . character of each n o v e l , is his technique of .elaborating unique patterns of language around the protagonist w h i c h characterize at the same time as they draw attention to the main themes of each n o v e l . Dorothy Van Ghent points, out, 'that each author does not consult the whole body of the language in s e l e c t i n g words for his meanings; that he is d r i v e n , as if c o m p u l s i v e l y , to the s e l e c t i o n of a highly particular part of the language; and that the i n d i v i d u a l character of his w o r k , its connotations and s p e c i a l i n s i g h t s , derive l a r g e l y from the style he has made his own —  -  50  -  that is to s a y , from the vocabuiatry and verbal arrangements he has adopted out of the whole gamut of words and r h e t o r i c a l patterns a v a i l a b l e i n the l a n g u a g e . ' ^ C l e a r l y , the " i n d i v i d u a l character" of each Moore n o v e l , w h i c h is created by the patterns of language a s s o c i a t e d w i t h the protagonist, is as uniquely different from one n o v e l to the next as the protagonists themselves. The Luck of Ginger C o f f e y , as its t i t l e s u g g e s t s , is concerned w i t h Ginger C o f f e y ' s gamble " a l l on one h o r s e , a horse coloured C a n a d a , w h i c h now by hook or crook w o u l d carry him to fame and fortune . " (p. 11) A n d s o , 3  words and expressions r e l a t i n g to gambling, v i c t o r i e s and defeats, abound in the n o v e l .  to l u c k , to h o p e s , to In the first paragraph of the  n o v e l , Ginger reflects that the decorations of h i s Tyrolean hat "might be 4 l u c k y to h i m , "  that the fine weather is ".good a u g u r y , "  and that "maybe  today h i s ship w o u l d come i n . " (p. 3)>. Before a p p l y i n g for two p o s i t i o n s he does not o b t a i n , he assures h i m s e l f , There must be a l a w of averages i n l i f e as w e l l as in c a r d s . And surely if anyone's l u c k was due for a change, his w a s ? (p.20) S i m i l a r l y , before he applies to be an editor on the Tribune  —  another  p o s i t i o n for w h i c h he is refused — h e interprets his w i f e ' s matitudinal k i n d n e s s as "a good omen s o m e h o w , " and hopes a g a i n that "maybe today his s h i p w o u l d come i n . " (p.43)^ ratiocinator must be fixed in.hope','  G i n g e r , whose "habits of an habitual (p.179) i s a l w a y s ready to find " l i t t l e  7 victories"  (p.41) i n depressing c i r c u m s t a n c e s . W h e n his wife and daughter  have left him and he is struggling to perform two menial jobs on an empty  51 i  stomach, the gift of ten dollars from his employer prompts him to forget his misfortunes and to think instead; There was always a bright side: . you fjtust had to look for i t , that was a l l . It was s t i l l u p h i l l , but, w i t h a l i t t l e v i c t o r y now and then, you could keep r u n n i n g . As long as you had h o p e s . And he s t i l l had h o p e s . . (p. 140) It i s soon apparent in the novel that G inter's references to his luck are the verbal manifestations of his failure to accept r e s p o n s i b i l i t y and u l t i mately of his immaturity. Moore constantly stresses the b o y i s h n e s s of G i n g e r ' s language and the contrasting adult tone w i t h w h i c h others address him. .Ginger, who s t i l l goes by his boyhood name, i s g i v e n to juvenile expressions:  he " r i s k s i t " into rooms (pp.3,30) he "shanks'mares i t "  down the street, (pp. 10,11) he "dawdles" on the way home, (p.28) he c o n s iders himself "a fine b i g f e l l o w , " (p.6) and avoids t h i n k i n g of his d i m i n i shing c a p i t a l because "it was a frightener to think how l i t t l e " was l e f t , (p.19).  Even his habitual e x p l e t i v e s — " F l u t e , " By J " , "Holy S m o k e , "  and "Suffering J, " — are c h i l d i s h , and when he challenges Gerry Grosvenor to fight (a b o y s ' way of s e t t l i n g d i s p u t e s ) , he does so i n the j u v e n i l e phrase, "Put up your d u k e s ! " (p.91) ful.  L i k e a b o y , Ginger is hot a l w a y s s t r i c t l y truth-  When the c l e r k at the Unemployment Insurance C o m m i s s i o n takes him  up on his false c l a i m to a completed B . A . by suggesting that Ginger is q u a l i f i e d to t e a c h , Ginger is forced to act out a bashful d i s c l a i m e r , " H o l y S m o k e , " s a i d C o f f e y , g i v i n g J . D o n n e l l y an honest g r i n . "That was years a g o . Sure, I've forgotten every s t i t c h . " (p. 8)  52  -  Ginger has a delightfully c h i l d i s h and uneducated notion of the names of people i n the n e w s .  He complains of Gerry G r o s v e n o r ' s habit of  l e t t i n g s l i p names l i k e "Joe Enlee or J . F . Dee or Rab or M a c or M a t s y Dong or M i c k O'Yan as if he was r e l a t e d to a l l of t h e m . " (p.46)  When  Ginger r e a l i z e s that Gerry Grosvenor has become his r i v a l for his w i f e ' s affection, his complaints against Grosvenor turn into c h i l d i s h i n v e c t i v e : "Be seeing y o u , " Coffey e c h o e d . . . . S e e i n g y o u , y e s ; a n d , seeing y o u , aren't you one of the drippiest drinks of water I've ever l a i d eyes on? Expense account or not , artist or not, what c o u l d she see in y o u , you s e l f - s a t i s fied sausage? (p.85) Soon after making this remark Ginger does see Gerry Grosvenor — t e t e - a - t § t e over l u n c h w i t h V e r o n i c a , G i n g e r ' s w i f e .  Ginger flees from  the s i g h t , "a boy e s c a p i n g a pair of b u l l i e s . " (p.86)  Equally b o y i s h are  his skirmishes w i t h the Godhead: If there was a God a b o v e , was that what God wanted? To make him poor in s p i r i t ? To make him c a l l pax, to make him give up/,.* to herd him back w i t h the other sheep in the fold? He l o o k e d at the t a b e r n a c l e . H i s large ruddy face set in a s c o w l as though someone had struck i t . H i s l i p s shut tight under his ginger mustache. I never c o u l d abide a b u l l y , he s a i d to the t a b e r n a c l e . 'In a w o r l d of b u l l i e s it i s s m a l l wonder that Ginter is most comfortable w i t h his f i v e - y e a r - o l d friend, M i c h e l B e a u l i e u , for whom he buys "Gob-stoppers " w h i c h he cannot afford.  "But a h !  Coffey remembered his  boyhood, the joys of a penny paper t w i s t of b u l l s e y e s . " (p.6)  The most  tender moments in the novel occur when Ginger and M i c h e l find themselves united in l o n e l i n e s s (". . . and g r a v e l y , t h i r t y - n i n e and five years o l d , they 1  b u i l t a house w i t h a long sugar-lump c h i m n e y . " p . 82), i n a misdemeanour ("Man and c h i l d exchanged g l a n c e s , strangely united i n a p p r e h e n s i o n . " p . 8 8 ) , and in fantasy ("I w i s h we had a whole lot of toys and you and me could p l a y w i t h them a l l the t i m e .  Because I l o v e y o u , M ' s i e u r , " p.98)  Games and toys signify happiness for Ginger; between himself and a l l harm he interjects the finger game whenever p o s s i b l e , (pp.49,153,172-3) He is often n o s t a l g i c for the days when his daughter was younger and for the games they played together, (pp. 29 ,148,178) Although he cannot retrieve the p a s t , Ginger can s t i l l see his r e l a t i o n w i t h Paulie in terms of p l a y , as Moore i l l u s t r a t e s when he describes their s i t u a t i o n without Veronica:  "And s o , in his fortieth y e a r , Ginger Coffey began p l a y i n g house  w i t h a f o u r t e e n - y e a r - o l d g i r l . " (p.147) G i n g e r ' s c h i l d i s h speech and manner e l i c i t condescending responses from other a d u l t s .  H i s w i f e ' s habitual tone to him is one of redress:  "Sit  down, G i n g e r , you're as bad as the c h i l d , " (p.3) or w o r s e , when she i s angry, of contempt: "And stop standing there l i k e a dog w a i t i n g for a pat on the h e a d . You're, not getting any pat. Not any more. N o w , go a w a y . " (p.61) Beauchemin's r e c e p t i o n i s t addresses Ginger i n a " s c h o o l - m i s t r e s s y t o n e , " (p.12) and Beauchemin himself things that Ginger should know better than to dress l i k e a c o l l e g e b o y . (p.23)  M a c G r e g o r a l s o s c o l d s Ginger for  attempting to bluff his way into a job for w h i c h he is. not q u a l i f i e d a n d , before hiring him as a l o w l y proofreader, i n s u l t i n g l y v e r i f i e s his a b i l i t y to s p e l l , (p.51)  -  54  Even Rose Alma who sees Ginger but briefly recognizes t h e . c h i l d beneath his man's exterior: Behind that large trembly d i g n i t y , behind that military facade of mustache and middle age, Rose Alma saw his true f a c e . L i k e a b o y , she thought. L o s t . (p.217) Ginger himself comes to see behind the facade of b o y i s h optimism w h i c h he presents to the w o r l d .  Indeed, the novel traces' the changes in  Ginger as he moves from r e c o g n i z i n g the folly of his boyhood i l l u s i o n s to a c t u a l l y g i v i n g them u p . At the beginning of the n o v e l he r e a l i z e s for a moment that his mother's estimate of his a b i l i t y to d e a l w i t h money is s t i l l true: . A h , what's the sense of g i v i n g s h e ' d say; h e ' l l never use i t . penny on some f o o l i s h n e s s the pocket? And it was true, then hand w i t h money. (p.10)  Ginger money for his tram, D o e s n ' t he spend every minute you put it i n his as n o w . He was no great  But he q u i c k l y d i s m i s s e s this truth by t h i n k i n g of himself as a romantic adventurer, " a l l on his o n l i e - o h , remembering that any man who ever amounted to anything was the man who took a c h a n c e , struck out, et c e t e r a . " (p. 11) He a l s o remembers another judgment from his past, this one d e l i v e r e d by his c o n f e s s o r , Father C o g l e y , in a sermon directed at G i n g e r .  Father  C o g l e y warned that the boy who does not f i n i s h his s t u d i e s , who leaves Ireland to find adventure i n other c o u n t r i e s , who is "unable to accept his G o d - g i v e n l i m i t a t i o n s , " w o u l d end up as a labourer in "some place of sun and rot or snow and i c e that no s e n s i b l e man would be seen dead i n . " (pp. 17-18) i 1  As Ginger trudges through snow-bound M o n t r e a l , he o b v i o u s l y r e a l i z e s that Father C o g l e y ' s warning has come true, but again he d i s m i s s e s that sermon  55  -  as "missionary malarky, of c o u r s e . " (p.18)  He uses the same word to  dismiss V e r o n i c a ' s harsh indictment of his character even as he r e c o g n i z e s the underlying truth in what she says: A h , sure that was a lot of m a l a r k y , that stuff about them l e t t i n g him go in those other jobs he h a d . A lot of malarky too about him b e i n g s e l f i s h and putting the blame on other people — a l l nonsense — sure, what d i d she k n o w , the woman? (p.62) > H a l f - w a y through the n o v e l Ginger begins to see.that he can no longer d i s m i s s the adult facts of his life w i t h b o y i s h d i s c l a i m e r s and unfounded hopes.  W h e n Veronica comes to t e l l him that she is l e a v i n g him for  Gerry Grosvenor, Ginger is engaged in f i x i n g M i c h e l ' s toy: And JMichej] ran off down the h a l l , the robot i n his h a n d . S l o w l y , Coffey stood u p . O h , . t o be a boy . . . tears one moment, a l l w i p e d away the n e x t . A world of t o y s . Nothing so terrible a kindness would not change i t . O h , to be a b o y . . . . '. Too o l d for t o y s , he turned to face her; (p. 89) S i m i l a r l y , w h e n ' G i n g e r has to stop p l a y i n g w i t h M i c h e l to leave for his unpleasant proof-reader's j o b , his longing to be a boy is q u i c k l y followed •i  '  '  •  by the r e f l e c t i o n , "but c h i l d r e n must grow u p . " (p.98)  .  It is a l s o at this  point in the n o v e l , when Coffey is l o s i n g his f a m i l y , that he is confronted w i t h the f u l l r e a l i z a t i o n of what he has become: Look at y o u r s e l f , w o u l d y o u . Take a good l o o k . . He l o o k e d at h i m . A stupid man, dressed up l i k e a D u b l i n S q u i r e . Looked at the frightened, c h i l d i s h face frozen now in a military man's d i s g u i s e . He hated that man in the mirror, hated h i m . O h G o d , there was a u s e l e s s bloody man, coming up to forty and s t i l l f u l l of b o y ' s dreams of ships coming in; of adventures and e s c a p e s and glories to b e . (pi93)  -  56  -  Once Ginger has faced the "True.Facts" of l i f e , he begins his l o n e l y struggle to regain his family and to become its s e l f - s u p p o r t i n g h e a d .  In  the l a s t half of the n o v e l , the language w h i c h depicts Ginger as a boy i s therefore l e s s evident, and Ginger i s . c o r r e s p o n d i n g l y l e s s e b u l l i e n t .  The  process of a c c e p t i n g one s " G o d - g i v e n l i m i t a t i o n s " is a sobering o n e , 1  and without his b o y i s h attributes Ginger no longer cuts a jaunty f i g u r e . On only one o c c a s i o n does Ginger experience the joy w h i c h his c h i l d i s h dreams c o u l d evoke before.  After his release from j a i l , Ginger is o v e r -  whelmed by the s e n s a t i o n of freedom: He was free. The night that had p a s s e d , the c e l l s below s t a i r s , the shouting w a r d e r s , the terrifying laughter of the spectators i n court; it happened and yet it had n o t . It was a nightmare washed into nothingness by the simple and glorious fact of f r e e d o m . . . . For one l i b e r a t i n g moment he became a c h i l d again; l o s t himself as a c h i l d c a n , l e t t i n g himself go into the morning, a drop of water j o i n i n g an o c e a n , m y s t i c a l l y becoming one . (p. 2 35) S a d l y , the mature Ginger Coffey a s s e s s e s that moment of c h i l d i s h joy as a rarity; he knows that he w i l l not often feel l i k e a c h i l d a g a i n .  So grown-  up has Ginger become that even Veronica admits her admiration for his adult behaviour at the end of the n o v e l , (p.241) C l e a r l y the words and phrases w h i c h Moore chooses to depict Ginger Coffey stress more than the Irishness of his s p e e c h .  They a l s o  portray the fundamental and gradual growth in G i n g e r ' s character from boy to man w h i c h is the subject of the n o v e l . . G a v i n Burke undergoes much the same k i n d of maturation in The Emperor of I c e - C r e a m . L i k e G i n g e r , G a v i n begins by f e e l i n g he is a failure and only s e n s i n g the truth in the a d v i c e w h i c h adults and friends give h i m .  W h i l e Ginger ignores his r e s p o n s i b i l i t y and blames his misfortune on fate, G a v i n prefers to b e l i e v e that his f a i l u r e , p a r t i c u l a r l y in exams, is predetermined by "the a u t h o r i t i e s . "  Both Ginger and G a v i n come to  r e a l i z e that only they can change their l i v e s ; both characters have matured.  by the end of both n o v e l s ,  In The Luck of Ginger Coffey Moore s t r e s s e s  G i n g e r ' s juvenile language, an anomaly i n a t h i r t y - n i n e - y e a r - o l d man, but in The Emperor of I c e - C r e a m Moore takes a different approach to G a v i n ' s language s i n c e a b o y i s h remark is hardly s i g n i f i c a n t when spoken by eighteen-year-old Gavin Burke. The most s i g n i f i c a n t fact about G a v i n ' s language is the s m a l l proportion of it that is represented as b e i n g spoken a l o u d .  Freddy Hargreaves  and S a l l y Shannon are the only two people w i t h whom he speaks at any great length.  The rest of the time G a v i n i s a c t u a l l y very r e t i c e n t .  Especially  in those scenes in w h i c h a group of people are gathered together, G a v i n ' s remarks are m i n i m a l .  At the Reverend M c M u r t y ' s  utterance is " O . K . " (p.94)  soiree,  G a v i n ' s sole  G a v i n ' s s i l e n c e s i g n i f i e s his estrangement from  other people and in p a r t i c u l a r , from his f a m i l y .  He thinks that his mother  w o u l d no longer speak to him if she spent merely thirty seconds, i n s i d e his m i n d , (p.134) and he has completely g i v e n up t r y i n g to converse w i t h his father: H i s father, a s o l i c i t o r , b e l i e v e d that his l e g a l training had made him i m p a r t i a l , l o g i c a l , and reasonable in judging i s s u e s . A c t u a l l y , G a v i n thought, he's one of the most prejudiced, e m o t i o n a l , and unreasonable people I've ever met. It was more than a year s i n c e he had d e c i d e d there was no longer any point  58 in arguing w i t h his father. S i l e n c e and s i l e n t r e b e l l i o n were the only defense against his father's pious prate about C a t h o l i c i s m , his father's f a s c i s t leanings i n p o l i t i c s , his father's l i t e r a r y pronuneiamentos . (p.33) G a v i n even finds himself at a l o s s to e x p l a i n himself to his brother who is only s l i g h t l y older than G a v i n .  Instead he enumerates his problems to  O w e n ' s bent back: How c o u l d you e x p l a i n to Owen the feeling you had before every e x a m i n a t i o n , a f e e l i n g that the authorities had somehow predetermined your f a i l u r e ? . . . H o w could you e x p l a i n to Owen that you suspected there were things wrong w i t h y o u , that, for one t h i n g , you were a sex maniac whose every moment was plagued by thoughts of g i r l s , that you sensed you would become a drunkard the first chance you got, that you no longer b e l i e v e d i n G o d . . . , yet remained reasonably i n dread of G o d ' s vengeance for the fact of this• unbelief? How c o u l d you t e l l the l i k e s of O w e n . . .that your only thoughts of the future were elaborate daydreams . . . ? Of c o u r s e , these questions are r h e t o r i c a l ; G a v i n cannot converse meaningfully w i t h people who do not understand or who threaten h i m . H i s t y p i c a l response is either to say nothing, as he does w i t h S h e i l a L u d d i n , (p.52) w i t h his father, (p.70) and w i t h John H e n r y , (p.170) or to say " a l l the right things — but to h i m s e l f , " as he does after an argument w i t h S a l l y Shannon, (p.41) When G a v i n does bring himself to t e l l S a l l y the truth about his s i t u a t i o n , he experiences the same relief w h i c h he knew " i n the days when he had b e l i e v e d i n c o n f e s s i o n . " (p.139)  But if committing himself  to the spoken word is difficult for G a v i n , the endless mental r e c i t a t i o n of his fears and the constant inner debate about his conduct are apparently effortless.  The two sides of every dilemma are frequently deliberated by  the v o i c e s G a v i n c a l l s his "angels":  the W h i t e Angel takes the a c c e p t e d ,  "decent" point of v i e w , w h i l e the Black A n g e l , p r e d i c t a b l y , argues for a  -  59  more l i b e r a t e d and daring behaviour, (p. 10) W h e n , for e x a m p l e , G a v i n is outwardly s i l e n t i n response to S o l d i e r ' s plan to "let [Craig] out w i t h a brick, on the n o g g i n , " he is mentally struggling to find the right reply: This is the way sins are committed, the W h i t e A n g e l w a r n e d . You have to make a stand somewhere, do you hear me, G a v i n ? But S o l d i e r ' s b l a c k eye was upon h i m . Lynan leaned forward, his crooked teeth showing i n an anticipatory g r i n . Come o n , the Black Angel u r g e d . Stop b e i n g a w e t - n o s e d k i d . U n e a s i l y G a v i n nodded, (p. 129) S i n c e G a v i n ' s reply is s t i l l not a r t i c u l a t e d , it is clear that he has no intention of becoming an a c c o m p l i c e to a murder, as he later points out to Freddy H a r g r e a v e s . In the debates between G a v i n ' s a n g e l s , such as the above, in his own imagined conversations w i t h a r e l i g i o u s statue, the D i v i n e Infant of Prague w h i c h o b v i o u s l y represents G a v i n ' s c o n s c i e n c e , a n d i n his l e s s frequent conversations w i t h compatible people, the two recurring and s i g n i f i c a n t words are " f a i l u r e " and " a u t h o r i t y . " At the beginning of the n o v e l , G a v i n who b e l i e v e s that his failure to obtain the S c h o o l s L e a v i n g C e r t i f i c a t e was preordained by the a u t h o r i t i e s , (p.6) avoids the suggestion made by his I n f a n t / C o n s c i e n c e that he f a i l e d because of s l o t h , , s e l f i n d u l g e n c e , and l u s t . .(His C a t h o l i c t r a i n i n g is evident i n this s e l e c t i o n from the Seven D e a d l y S i n s . )  G a v i n imagines that his new job w i t h the A i r  Raid Precautions U n i t is going to free him from s c h o o l and that its r e q u i r e ments w i l l a l l o w him time to study for the alternate London M a t r i c exams w h i c h he w i l l c e r t a i n l y p a s s .  He takes comfort from the prediction of  certain modern poets that the future.for everyone is u n c e r t a i n , that W o r l d War II, when it comes to Ireland, w i l l mean "freedom from futures, " s i n c e  -  60  the grownups whose world w i l l be destroyed w i l l no longer have any authority.  G a v i n p a r t i c u l a r l y l i k e s W a l l a c e Stevens' couplet,  Let be be finale of s e e m . The only emperor is the emperor of i c e - c r e a m , (pp. 7-8) This couplet seems to sum things up for G a v i n although he is not quite sure what it means.  It is s i g n i f i c a n t that at the outset of the novel G a v i n  ignores the second stanza of this poem to concentrate on the vague i m p l i c a t i o n that r e a l l y no authorities e x i s t except the fleeting power of the moment.  When G a v i n ' s job at the A . R . P . turns into an emprisoning  nightmare rather than an e s c a p e , G a v i n ' s sense of failure g r o w s .  Gavin,  who is forced i n particular by his uniform to admit to being a member of the A . R . P . , is ashamed of his j o b . As he e x p l a i n s to S a l l y , "We're the unemployables, we're a joke and everybody things we're a pack of l o a f e r s . We a r e . " (p. 36) And w o r s e , G a v i n sees in the older A . R. P . members, what he may become.  "They and their c o n d i t i o n are what I fear;  f a i l i n g future." (p. 39)  they are my  He r e c o g n i z e s that the A . R. P.. members are misfits and  i n an imaginary conversation w i t h S a l l y makes" the obvious c o n c l u s i o n : I am l i k e them, S a l l y , that is the thing that scares m e . D o n ' t you s e e , I'm a part of this A . R . P . farce, I fit i n , perfectly, I'm the k i d who f a i l e d his s c h o o l e x a m s , the boy going to the d o g s . . . . ( p . 39) As G a v i n makes this s i l e n t c o n f e s s i o n to S a l l y i n a restaurant, he s e e s , i n contrast to his own hated uniform, a n a v a l o f f i c e r ' s c a p , "arrogant and elegant, symbol of an authority he would never command." (p.41) After seven months of enduring idle hours interspersed w i t h Post Officer C r a i g ' s i n c r e a s i n g l y lunatic d r i l l s , G a v i n becomes more dejected,  61 and his future seems to him t o t a l l y unpromising: The war w i l l be over one d a y . . .and a l l the boys you went to s c h o o l w i t h l a s t year w i l l have f i n i s h e d u n i v e r s i t y and have good j o b s . But where w i l l you b e ? A b o o z e r , an e x - A . R . P . stretcher-bearer, a sometime amateur actor, an e x - C a t h o l i c , a masturbator, a marginal loafer, s t i l l w a i t i n g for some r e v o l u t i o n . . . . T h e r e ' l l be no e x p l o s i o n , and you know it: your father's w o r l d w i l l not be blown u p . This war is a phony war and one day it w i l l be o v e r , w i t h the o n l y Irish c a s u a l t i e s you and your buddies who w i l l then be put of w o r k . Take a look at y o u r s e l f . You're what you feared. A f l o p . ,(p.76) Gavin's sense of f a i l u r e , of " f a l l i n g over a c l i f f , " is naturally increased by his poor performance on the London M a t r i c .  C e r t a i n that he  has f a i l e d the math e x a m i n a t i o n , G a v i n at first affects a k i n d of bravado in another of h i s imaginary c o n v e r s a t i o n s , this one w i t h a statue of Queen V i c t o r i a outside Queen's U n i v e r s i t y : Puff a w a y , the Queen s a i d . A s a f a i l u r e , you w i l l never have the money to smoke decent cigarettes . So be i t , G a v i n told the Q u e e n . S i l l y o l d c o w , don't you know that f a i l u r e ' s not so t e r r i b l e . N o t h i n g ' s terrible once you accept i t . . .You w i l l never get i n here, she s a i d . Not after t o d a y , (p.98) G a v i n comforts himself again w i t h the thought that in any c a s e ' t h e expanding wan  w i l l c e r t a i n l y come to Northern Ireland and destroy the u n i v e r s i t y to  w h i c h he cannot gain entrance.  But his c o n s c i e n c e , t a k i n g the Queen's  part, points out the egoism of that idea: But the Queen was on to h i m . Y o u ' d l i k e that, s a i d s h e , y e s , y o u ' d l i k e to see the whole world blown up just because you're a miserable l i t t l e f a i l u r e . . (p.99) After Owen reproaches G a v i n w i t h the; obvious reason for his failure — "You bloody w e l l didn't study hard enough, " — G a v i n s t i l l prefers to place  -  62  -  the blame elsewhere: I am running d o w n . There is something wrong w i t h me. I know I'm more i n t e l l i g e n t than the l i k e s of C l o o n e y and other f e l l o w s who were i n my c l a s s . Yet I am doomed to f a i l , w h i l e t h e y ' l l go on to become the d o c t o r s , l a w y e r s , engineers, p r i e s t s , their l i t t l e hearts d e s i r e , (p.100) G a v i n ' s father's judgment of the reason for G a v i n s ' failure in math is harsher than O w e n ' s .  He concludes that G a v i n ' s second failure must  indicate a l a c k of a b i l i t y and that therefore no further money should be wasted on. G a v i n ' s education:  G a v i n must go into trade w i t h his wealthy  U n c l e T o m . G a v i n i s crushed by his father's pronouncement w h i c h he feels echoes the "mysterious judgment of a l l authority" that G a v i n , a second son,  w i l l never amount to anything in l i f e . (p. 119) As the months pass between the London M a t r i c and the bombing  of B e l f a s t , G a v i n , who is frustrated by his apparently futile A . R . P . job and by his i n a b i l i t y to study, drifts further and further from his parents' expectations.  A g a i n and again he is reminded of his failure in other 8  people's eyes and even i n his o w n .  He gloomily reflects that he is  even a failure at pretending to enjoy b e i n g a f a i l u r e , (p. 132) F i n a l l y , after he has truly reached a nadir i n his l i f e , he r e a l i z e s that s l o t h , s e l f - i n d u l g e n c e , and l u s t are not the sins w h i c h damn h i m , but simply, l a c k of purpose: In both worlds [the a d u l t ' s and the c h i l d ' s ) l a c k of purpose, l a c k of f a i t h , was the one deadly s i n . In both w o r l d s , the a u t h o r i t i e s , detecting that s i n , arranged one's punishment. A l l of l i f e ' s races are fixed and f a l s e . You stand at the starting l i n e , knowing you c a n run as w e l l as the others, but the a u t h o r i t i e s , those i n i m i c a l and unknown a r b i t e r s , have decreed that you will:;-not get off your marks . They k n o w , those authorities , that your place is w i t h the misfits , that your future; w i l l be v o i d . (pp.191-92)  -  63  Fortunately for G a v i n , if unfortunately for everyone e l s e , the war comes to Belfast on the f o l l o w i n g day a l l o w i n g G a v i n to a c h i e v e a sense of purpose. He d i s c o v e r s that given the chance he is capable of "dashing into a burning b u i l d i n g , snatching a g i r l from beneath a tumbling w a l l , w a l k i n g among e x p l o s i o n s , a n y t h i n g . " (p.299)  He even performs that most unpleasant  task of a l l , coffining the dead, for w h i c h his stamina is a p p l a u d e d , (p.237) From this experience G a v i n r e a l i z e s that "The Emperor of Ice C r e a m " is a l s o about the harsh facts of life and death and not just the ephemerality of the " a u t h o r i t i e s . "  M o s t p l e a s i n g to G a v i n is that he himself acquires  some authority in this new situation;  i r o n i c a l l y , his hated uniform becomes  an asset: He was aware that his uniform gave him some authority in the eys o f these g i r l s . It was pleasant being a hero, if he c o u l d only keep a w a k e . • (p. 243) M o r e s i g n i f i c a n t l y , he even finds himself comforting his father and hearing his father's confession as if G a v i n were the a d u l t , the person w i t h the authority to put things r i g h t . G a v i n ' s failure in his e x a m s , his i n t e l l i g e n c e notwithstanding, and the advent of W o r l d W a r II are the events w h i c h enable G a v i n to break out of the pattern w h i c h the "authorities" who direct his life w o u l d have him follow.  Had he not f a i l e d and had he been born w e l l before the w a r , it is  easy to imagine that he c o u l d have become another Diarmuid D e v i n e who is a l s o Roman C a t h o l i c , the son of a s u c c e s s f u l father, and a scholar of English literature.  D e v i n e , who is the central character of The Feast of  Lupercal  shares G a v i n ' s natural t i m i d i t y of character, but whereas G a v i n ' s  reticence r e s u l t s from his sense of s e p a r a t e n e s s , D e v i n e ' s s i l e n c e s stem from his s e l f - e f f a c i n g and s e l f - d e p r e c a t i n g nature.  Both G a v i n and D e v i n e  feel intimidated by the authorities of f a m i l y , c h u r c h , and s c h o o l ; D e v i n e admits that although he is a grown man, Father M c S w i n e y can " s t i l l make him feel l i k e a wee b o y . " (p.40)  Of c o u r s e , as a teacher, D e v i n e is  himself an authority, but when he becomes i n v o l v e d i n a compromising s i t u a t i o n , he is just as fearful of the arbitrary powers of his superiors as is Gavin.  Y e t , when the opportunity comes to both of them to escape their  r e s t r i c t i n g l i v e s , G a v i n has enough r e b e l l i o u s courage to break away from the family mold w h i l e D e v i n e i s too s c h o o l e d in what is expected of him to do the u n u s u a l . When he f i n a l l y does speak out against those arbitrary a u t h o r i t i e s , his outburst is simply i g n o r e d . The language of The Emperor of I c e - C r e a m  prepares for G a v i n ' s r e b e l l i o n by s t r e s s i n g his necessary  s p i r i t u a l and mental estrangement from the a d u l t s ' world; the language of The Feast df L u p e r c a l  in contrast,  c a l l s attention.to Diarmuid D e v i n e ' s  a c q u i e s c e n c e both before and after his abortive r e b e l l i o n , and to the conditioning w h i c h makes D e v i n e , as Una C l a r k e points o u t ,  "afraid-to  fight against what l i f e is doing to h i m . " (p.192) At the beginning of the n o v e l , M o o r e ' s many references to the habitual nature of D e v i n e ' s life e s t a b l i s h the degree to wh i c h he has become thoroughly enmeshed in a system:  "In ten years of t e a c h i n g he had learned  to c a l c u l a t e each forty-minute c l a s s period without c o n s u l t i n g his w a t c h . " (p. 3)  " W i t h p r a c t i c e d gentleness he r a i s e d Frankie D u g a n ' s arm to shoulder  l e v e l . " (p. 8)  "He could remember that question was a s k e d in ' 3 6 , in ' 3 9 ,  and again i n '49 and ' 5 3 . " (p.10)  " M r . , D e v i n e , as a l w a y s , was the first  master to catch the bus w h i c h took them from the suburb of Glengormly to the center of B e l f a s t . " (p. 100) H i s life at his " d i g s " is no l e s s rooted i n habit;  he i s , for example, f a m i l i a r l y irritated at the hurrying up  of his twice-^weekly b a t h .  (p.13)  M r . D e v i n e o c c u p i e s his l e i s u r e hours  w i t h an amateur drama group, but even in this endeavour he is regularly the hard-working stage-manager,  the e s s e n t i a l man behind the scenes  whose contribution i s regularly ignored in the programme. After D e v i n e meets Una C l a r k e he r e a l i z e s that although he is young he has s l i p p e d into " o l d bachelor h a b i t s , " (p.54) that his comfortable digs are " l i k e an o l d pensioner's place: a d i s g r a c e , " (p.141) and that his s c h o o l behaviour has f a l l e n into a routine:  " N o r m a l l y , he guided his speech and actions  as a conductor leads an orchestra:  his s c h o o l conduct f o l l o w e d a set  patter^ designed to evoke the proper response from p u p i l s , c o l l e a g u e s , priests . " (p. 78) D e v i n e ' s " o l d bachelor h a b i t s "  account for the uncertainty about  his age to w h i c h other characters a t t e s t . Young C o n n o l l y refers to D e v as "that o l d w o m a n , " (p.5) and Heron speaks to him as a peer w h e n , in fact, Heron i s nearly t w i c e as o l d a s i D e v i n e . (p.17)  Kevin C o o k e , the  director of Trinity Players says of D e v i n e , "Poor o l d D e v . H e ' s too good-natured, that's his t r o u b l e . Though I don't know why I'm c a l l i n g him o l d . H e ' s younger than I a m . " (p.62) 9 Yet Father M c S w i n e y who does not know D e v ' s exact age speaks of him as a young man:  "Sure, D e v i n e ' s a harmless enough l a d . What age is h e ,  66 D e v i n e ? " Moore e x p l a i n s the divergence of a l l these opinions about D e v i n e ' s age when he describes D e v i n e :  "He was a t a l l man, yet d i d not  seem so: not youthful, yet somehow young; a man whose appearance suggested some painful u n c e r t a i n t y . " (p.6) D e v i n e ' s acquaintance w i t h Una C l a r k e shakes him out of his more s u p e r f i c i a l bachelor h a b i t s . appearance:  He begins to pay more attention to his  he shaves off the mustache w h i c h ages him and dresses as  a younger man.  He r e a l i z e s , however, that he cannot change c e r t a i n deeper  aspects of his character.  H i s s e l f - r e s t r a i n t w h i c h borders on p a s s i v i t y is  t o o deeply engrained i n his character.  Moore s k i l l f u l l y brings out this  trait i n his d e p i c t i o n of D e v i n e ' s language.  In the first p l a c e , D e v is not  garrulous and his speech is often awkward and hesitant, dotted w i t h " a h ' s " 10 and nervous " h a , h a ' s . "  He frequently lets a remark pass rather than  s p e a k i n g out and c a u s i n g a d i s p u t e .  Una C l a r k e complains to him that  he would betray his own mother to a v o i d a r o w .  (p.192)  Moore carefully  builds up a picture of D e v i n e ' s polite deference to other p e o p l e .  No matter  how rude or i n s e n s i t i v e Una and Tim Heron are i n conversation w i t h h i m , he rarely defends h i m s e l f . D e v i n e ' s courtesy is exemplified by his r e l a t i o n ship w i t h Goehegan, the gym master, who is snubbed by a l l the other l a y staff. . M o o r e remarks, however, that " M r . D e v i n e , who d i d not l i k e to hurt any man's f e e l i n g s , never had the heart to put Goehegan i n h i s place and as a r e s u l t , Goehegan sought his company w i t h the tenacity of a poor r e l a t i o n . " (pp.83-4)  This picture of D e v i n e as "the f e l l a that w o u l d n ' t  say boo to a dead d u c k , t r i p p i n g over himself agreeing w i t h e v e r y b o d y , " (p.49)  67 makes D e v i n e 's outburst at the end of the novel a l l the more dramatic: It was as though heaven had thundered at his impudence. In one moment of defiance he had negated the years of obedience and r e s p e c t . But D e v i n e ' s "moment of defiance" is brief;  it is much more natural for  him to go on b e i n g the humble and deferential person he has been throughout the n o v e l . D e v i n e ' s circumspect nature e x p l a i n s his sheer horror at the thought of s c a n d a l , and i n d e e d , the w o r d , " s c a n d a l " , is so loaded w i t h emotion that throughout the novel scandal seems more heinous than s i n i t s e l f . At first D e v i n e sees o n l y the p o s s i b i l i t y of s c a n d a l ;  he r e a l i z e s that c o a c h i n g  y o u n g , Protestant Una C l a r k e and t a k i n g her to p u b l i c restaurants w i l l not be v i e w e d as innocent behaviour by the a u t h o r i t i e s .  On the c o n t r a r y ,  "the  authorities w o u l d say he had courted an o c c a s i o n of s i n ; he had r i s k e d giving scandal."  (p. 78) Then, because Tim Heron a c c u s e s him of i l l i c i t  Ibehaviour, a scandal does in fact develop when three students overhear their c o n v e r s a t i o n .  The three boys are caned by the Dean of D i s c i p l i n e for  " m a l i c i o u s slander, . . . s n e a k i n g under w i n d o w s , l i s t e n i n g to your e l d e r s , g i v i n g s c a n d a l to two other b o y s . " (p.94)  After Heron's second angry c o n v e r -  sation w i t h D e v i n e outside his c l a s s r o o m , D e v i n e is a p p a l l e d by the r e a l i z a t i o n that his students have overheard Heron's angry w o r d s .  D e v i n e thinks  of his students as "twenty-eight l i t t l e w i r e l e s s transmitters, primed w i t h s c a n d a l , ready to broadcast it a l l over the s c h o o l , a l l over the c i t y , " (p. 161) and after the doggerel and graffiti appear on the w a l l s of the b o y s ' l a v a t o r y , D e v i n e thinks of a l l the day boys as " l i t t l e t a l k i n g newspapers, primed w i t h  s c a n d a l . " (p.177)  68  -  When the President begins the d i s c u s s i o n w h i c h is to  decide D e v i n e ' s fate, he announces, as if it were his text for a sermon, "Woe to the s c a n d a l g i v e r . " (p.230)' The irony of the novel is that D e v i n e , the circumspect and innocent v i c t i m of s c a n d a l , does suffer a l l the woes for a s i n that was never committed. At the end of the n o v e l , D e v i n e broods sadly on his fate: He would never l i v e it d o w n . He had not even been a l l o w e d to disgrace h i m s e l f , to run off to A u s t r a l i a or Canada or someplace, and never be heard of a g a i n , a man to be g o s s i p e d about, a man who ruined h i m s e l f . N o , he had promised the President he would not r e s i g n . He must ignore the whispers and the s m i l e s : he must even pretend to be friends w i t h that l u n a t i c , Tim H e r o n , (pp. 241-2) Diarmuid D e v i n e ' s terrible fate is that he must go on l i v i n g as before his abortive s c a n d a l , w o r k i n g at the same job, l i v i n g at the same house, a s s o c i a t i n g w i t h the same people, a n d , in a l l p r o b a b i l i t y , s t i l l t e l l i n g them what they want to hear. Two characters in later novels whose l i v e s and .language stand i n contrast to Diarmuid D e v i n e ' s are Brendan Tierney and Fergus F a d d e n . A l l three characters share a common background of C a t h o l i c f a m i l i e s and S t . M i c h a n ' s s c h o o l , but Brendan and Fergus have both renounced their r e l i g i o n and escaped the narrow Belfast world for North A m e r i c a .  There  they both make a l i v i n g as writers — a further i n d i c a t i o n of their more liberated l i v e s .  W h i l e D e v i n e always plays a background role as teacher  (Those who c a n , do; those who c a n ' t , teach.) and stagemanager, Brendan and Fergus are both a c t i v e l y making their places in the literary s c e n e . Brendan, who is just about to p u b l i s h a n o v e l , i s more s e l f - c o n s c i o u s l y  69 literary in his speech than F e r g u s , a t w i c e - p u b l i s h e d n o v e l i s t who i s l e s s anxious to prove he is a w r i t e r .  Both expatriates seem to have  left Diarmuid D e v i n e miles behind i n a musty, unchanging Belfast b o y s ' s c h o o l . And y e t , their language for a l l its u n i n h i b i t e d A m e r i c a n i s m s , s t i l l bears traces of their Irish C a t h o l i c p a s t s .  Sometimes the traces  have been profaned — "Jesus C h r i s t " is u s u a l l y a meaningless e x p l e t i v e for Fergus (p.4) — b u t s t i l l their speech has a r e l i g i o u s I r i s h c a s t w h i c h suggests that childhood influences are never completely e r a s e d . Brendan T i e r n e y ' s language reveals his intense involvement w i t h a.literary, l i f e ;  his c h i l d h o o d boast that he w i l l become a famous and  dedicated writer continues to haunt h i m . Brendan's f i r s t - p e r s o n narrative contains many a l l u s i o n s to great writers such as Shakespeare,  (pp.89-91)  Hawthorne, (p.285) Kafka, (p.291) and to great literature such as the Greek myths.(pp.4,228) (pp.9,72)  He quotes frequently from writers s u c h as B a u d e l a i r e ,  Joyce, (p.36) E l i o t , (p.70) T e n n y s o n , (p.128) B a l z a c , (p.178)  James Stephens, (p.277) and compares himself to Stephen D e d a l u s , (pp.50,193) Flaubert and G i d e , (p.82) A s c h e n b a c h , (p.246) C o n r a d , (p.12) and E l i o t , (p.285). He even wonders if he w i l l take a place w i t h Kierkegaard and C a m u s , D o s t o e v s k y and G i d e . (p.276)  Before Gerston and Key take an interest in  his n o v e l , he fears that he may be one of the many false artists who inhabit New Y o r k , a "Village Rimbaud, covered i n the vomit of s i c k l y p a s t i c h e . " (p.60) He refers to the literary l i f e in New York as a "vast charade" played out by writers whose ambitions are merely "private f a n t a s i e s , " and who have  "neitherreal b e l i e f s not the courage to implement t h e m . " (p.82) Brendan, 12 however, not only d i s c o v e r s that he h a s the courage to be "ruthless" in the pursuit of his a m b i t i o n , but even that w r i t i n g has become for him "the b e l i e f that replaces b e l i e f . " (p.3.01) But w e l l before Brendan makes this pronouncement to M a x B e r s t e i n , he has been referring to his w r i t i n g in r e l i g i o u s t e r m s . As a s c h o o l b o y , he i s f i l l e d w i t h the " c o n v i c t i o n " that he w i l l be a w r i t e r , (p.6) The letter w h i c h a d v i s e s him of h i s first p u b l i c a t i o n "baptizes him i n a new c o m m u n i o n . " (p.30) his mother that he has made w r i t i n g his r e l i g i o n :  He e x p l a i n s to  "It's an act of faith  that by my own efforts some part of me w i l l survive the undertaker." N a t u r a l l y , he ignores his mother's riposte that.his act of faith is not a s i g n of r e l i g i o n but of "pure v a n i t y . " (p.91) W h e n he learns that his book w i l l be p u b l i s h e d , he announces, " M y entry into Jerusalem has b e g u n . " (p. 191)  Brendan becomes so f a n a t i c a l about his novely 13  w h i c h he refers to as his " c h i l d "  the creative work  , that he w i l l not accede to h i s editor's  demands for s m a l l r e v i s i o n s . Solomon S i l v e r who does accept e d i t o r i a l s u g g e s t i o n s , h a s , a c c o r d i n g to Brendan, committed an o r i g i n a l s i n . (p.296) But having jeered at his mother's orthodox C a t h o l i c i s m w h i l e e l e v a t i n g his work to the status of a r e l i g i o n , Brendan is jolted by his mother's death into r e a l i z i n g that the s a c r i f i c e s he has demanded in the ruthless pursuit of his new r e l i g i o n have been.as c o s t l y to himself as to others: . . .1 Will that from  a s k e d myself if my b e l i e f s are sounder than my mothers. my w r i t i n g change anything i n my w o r l d ? To t a l k of is to b e l i e v e in m i r a c l e s . Is my motive any different hers? Is it not, as was hers, a performance of deed  71  -  in the expectation of p r a i s e ? And what is that praise reallyworth; how many of the p r a i s e d l i v i n g do I , i n my secret heart, admire? To w i s h to join their company is to desire , a d m i s s i o n to a book of s a i n t s , the true facts of whose l i v e s and achievements bear l i t t l e resemblance to the public l e g e n d s . As for the verdict of p o s t e r i t y , is it any more deserving of, b e l i e f than a b e l i e f i n heaven? . . . Is my b e l i e f i n my talent any l e s s an act of superstitious faith than my mother's b e l i e f in the power of i n d u l g e n c e s ? A n d , as for the ethics of my c r e e d , how do I know that my talent j u s t i f i e s the s a c r i f i c e s I have a s k e d of others in its name? O M a m a , I s a c r i f i c e d you; .. . . Jan^ I abandoned y o u . . . .Am I s t i l l my mother's s o n , my w i f e ' s husband, the father of my c h i l d r e n ? Or am I a stranger, strange even to m y s e l f ? (p.319) The r e l i g i o u s language w h i c h Brendan adopts to describe his literary aspirations is only party metaphoric: w r i t i n g has indeed become Brendan's religion.  The irony is that i n gaining a literary reputation, Brendan has l o s t  his own s o u l . Brendan's d e s c r i p t i o n of himself as a stranger, strange even to h i m s e l f , c l i m a x e s the use of the w o r d s , "stranger" and "strange" throughout the n o v e l .  Brendan, Jane, and M r s . Tierney a l l have o c c a s i o n to refer to  one another as strangers.  In the b e g i n n i n g , it is Brendan and M r s . Tierney  who are most struck by the strangeness of each other. At Brendan's first sight of his mother a r r i v i n g in New York from B e l f a s t , he cannot wave to her, 14 for he stands "rooted i n the sight of her as a stranger."  (p.35) M r s .  Tierney is a l s o aware that the son she remembers is nd k i n to the stranger who meets h e r . ^ (p.35) After Brendan brings his mother home to meet Jane, their talk is l i k e "the meeting of three strangers i n a d e n t i s t ' s w a i t i n g r o o m . " (p.39) M r s . Tierney sees Jane as "a pretty l i t t l e g y p s y , " (p.38) W h i l e Jane thinks of her as "the f a l s e note" w h i c h disturbs the decor of her l i v i n g r o o m .  ,(p.42)  Jane and her m o t h e r - i n - l a w do not a c h i e v e any rapport. M r s .  Tierney complains to Jane that she never addresses her by her name but refers to her instead as " s h e " , (p.227) When Jane does c a l l her, " M o t h e r " they are both surprised by the intimacy it implies: Why had she s a i d "Mother? "; When the word came out it startled her as much as it d i d her m o t h e r - i n - l a w , who looked up as though r e c o g n i z i n g a sound i n some foreign tongue, (p. 256) This exchange takes place after M r s . Tierney has left her c h i l d r e n ' s home, and i n the meantime, Jane finds that she has t o t a l l y l o s t her persona of mother-in-law.  To Jane, i she has become a g a i n , "an e l d e r l y stranger,  uninterested and u n i n t e r e s t i n g , a stranger who p o l i t e l y a s k e d after the • • •  ' i•  c h i l d r e n , . . . " (p. 24 7)- M r s . Tierney is left alone i n New York (although a stranger, M r s . . H o f s t r a , does invite her to t e a , p . 2 6 8 ) , w h i c h e x p l a i n s w h y , as Brendan a d m i t s , "She d i e d alone in the limbo of a strange apartment and l a y dead u n t i l , by a c c i d e n t , a stranger found h e r . " (p.318) The formerly c l o s e relations between Brendan and Jane a l s o deteriorate to a c o l d detachment. , Jane, who has erotic dreams of a dark r a v i s h e r , "a feral stranger," (p.96) finds her dreams coming true i n the person of Vito I t a l i a n o . Although Vito is no more to her than a stranger ( "She giggled:  he was a stranger;  the whole thing was a d r e a m . " p.168),  her r e l a t i o n s h i p w i t h Brendan i s affected by her a f f a i r .  Brendan t y p i c a l l y  misunderstands her change i n b e h a v i o u r , never g u e s s i n g that i n f i d e l i t y might be the cause:  "It was strange:  I felt as though I was at l a s t master  in my own house a n d , strangely, our l o v e m a k i n g reflected i t . " (p. 177)  At the end of the n o v e l , Jane .discovers that she loves no one i n the world.  Her s i s t e r , Barbara, is a stranger, (p.309) and Brendan is "a  person strange and familiar to her as her parents had been strange yet familiar when she was a l i t t l e g i r l . " (p.308)  After the many earlier  16 repetitions in v a r i e d c o n t e x t s ,  the word "stranger" as used by Brendan  to refer to h i m s e l f - "Who is that s t r a n g e r ? ^  met him at my mother's  f u n e r a l . " (p. 319) is powerfully evocative of the preceding narrative in w h i c h a l l three characters become strangers to each other. • Fergus Fadden is the character whose background and present status most resemble Brendan T i e r n e y ' s . Fergus is a l s o a litterateur. He quotes from Xenophon, (p.4) Ben Jonson, (p.11) C y r i l C o n n o l l y , (p.94) and James J o y c e , (p. 105) and makes references to Notes from Undergound , (p. 76) Kant, (p. 77) and the French a n t i - n o v e l i s t s , (p. 132) W h i l e Brendan is i n s p i r e d by Georges Clemenceau who worked unacknowledged i n New York (p. 112), Fergus takes.courage from the example of Faulkner who endured.in H o l l y w o o d . f ( p . 3 4 ) Fergus' language l i n k s him to several other Moore protagonists as w e l l .  He shares G a v i n Burke's p r e d i l e c t i o n for  modern poets and quotes from Eliot (p.107) and L o u i s . r M a c N e i c e . ( p . 1 7 2 ) . L i k e G a v i n , Fergus remembers b e i n g very impressed w i t h the first a c t u a l writer he met, Hugh G i l d e a , who l o o k e d l i k e D . H . . Lawrence .(p. 170- 3) „ And more important, the pattern of language w h i c h expresses G a v i n ' s anxiety over f a i l i n g is repeated in F e r g u s , as Fergus is constantly a s s a i l e d 17 by the meaningless of his l i f e .  F e r g u s e s v a r i o u s l y d e s c r i b e d as a f r a i d ,  a s h a m e d , ^ h u m i l i a t e d , ^ depressed, ^  and anxious. \ .  Fergus r e a l i z e s  that the ghosts he imagines v i s i t him are i n fact v o i c i n g a l l his "irrational  74 fears, s e l f - a c c u s a t i o n s , and doubts . "  (p.105-6)  Although, as he  c o n f e s s e s , Fergus has held r e l i g i o u s doubts "from the very b e g i n n i n g , " (p.122) the figures of priests keep recurring in his v i s i o n s as arbitrary authoritarian figures who sit i n judgment on Fergus , -character and l i f e . 1  The appearances of Father K i n n e a l l y , (p. 14) Father Byrne, (p. 121) D r . Keogh, (p. 124) and Father A l o n z o A l l e n (p. 195) indicate that Fergus  1  r e l i g i o u s s c h o o l i n g , even though he has rejected i t , s t i l l affects his subconscious t h i n k i n g . He i s amazed at his complete r e c a l l of the rosary (p. 143) and at his a b i l i t y to d e t a i l the six-;part s i n against the H o l y G h o s t , (p. 124) L i k e Diarmuid D e v i n e , he cannot escape his C a t h o l i c indoctrination and he is s t i l l intimidated by p r i e s t s .  A l s o l i k e D e v i n e , he  has a brief moment of r e b e l l i o n against the Reverend D a n i e l Keogh (even the name is the same), but his imagined v i o l e t caning of his former teacher l e a v e s him weeping and ashamed of his vengeful fury against an o l d man. (p. 127) Echoes of the v o i c e s of Brendan T e i r n e y , G a v i n Burke, and Diarmuid D e v i n e occur in the language a s s o c i a t e d w i t h F e r g u s , but s u r p r i s i n g l y , Fergus a l s o shares certain c h a r a c t e r i s t i c s of s p e e c h , in particular a c h i l d i s h q u a l i t y , w i t h Ginger C o f f e y , a character who i s very u n l i k e Fergus i n most respects. Ginger C o f f e y ' s juvenile language emphasizes his i n a b i l i t y to achieve r e s p o n s i b l e adulthood;  in Fergus'  s t r e s s e s his senseof i n s e c u r i t y .  c a s e , however, his c h i l d i s h language It is instructive that Fergus'", confrontation  w i t h the p a s t , in addition to forcing him to consider the deepest aspects of his character, a l s o brings out the c h i l d in h i m . When his parents, (pp.24-5)  75 his Aunt M a r y , (p.30) his older s i s t e r , (p.50) and the priests who were a l s o his teachers speak to him as if he were a c h i l d , he tends to respond i n the same v e i n .  He often reverts to schoolboy d i c t i o n (pp .14 , 81-2 ,185), and he  c a l l his parents, " D a d d y , " and " M a m a " .  At one point he withdraws l i k e  a pouting c h i l d because his father w i l l not recognize his s u c c e s s .  But  when his father makes a sign of a p p r o v a l , Fergus tries to a v o i d h i m , for "he c o u l d not bear to have his father speak to him as a grown-up p l a c a t i n g a c h i l d . " (p. 35) Fergus r e a l i z e s that his fear of the ghosts is analogous to the fear he felt as a boy p l a y i n g frightening games of h i d e - a n d - s e e k . L i k e a c h i l d , and. i n the c h i l d ' s language, he w i s h e s the terrifying game to end: Somewhere, in these rooms, hidden i n c l o s e t s , under b e d s , those others'(the ghosts]); w a i t e d , f i l l e d w i t h m a l i c i o u s , anticipatory g l e e , w a i t e d to jump out, . y e l l , make his heart thump. If only he c o u l d , i f only they w o u l d , let him stop, let him c a l l , "Pax! " (p. 37) As more and more ghosts appear and as Fergus becomes more and more accustomed to his former f a m i l i a r s , they b e g i n to seem more r e a l than the a c t u a l people around h i m , p a r t i c u l a r l y D a n i and her mother whose American q u a l i t i e s contrast to Fergus' Irish g h o s t s .  M o r e o v e r , Fergus knows that h i s  apprehension of people from the past i s e s p e c i a l l y keen since they are people "he had s e e n , s m e l l e d , and sensed w i t h the s p e c i a l strong perceptions of a very young c h i l d . " (p. 114) It is With the imagination of a c h i l d that Fergus thinks the c h i l d r e n ' s playhouse as "haunted ground, " w h i c h v i v i d l y r e c a l l s "a fear he had l a s t known as a schoolboy when' he ventured at night into the moonlit battlements of Doe C a s t l e i n D o n e g a l . " (p. 121) But just as f a n t a s t i c a l l y , the playhouse a l s o becomes a c o n f e s s i o n a l where a ghostly  76  .  Father Byrne addresses Fergus a s , "my c h i l d , " as he hears Fergus's confession.  When Father Byrne abruptly d i s a p p e a r s , D r . Keogh takes his  place and begins to cane Fergus as if he were a subordinate student.  Fergus ,  however, canes D r . Keogh i n s t e a d , "revenging himself and a l l other b o y s . " (p.126) And n a t u r a l l y , when Fergus's s c h o o l chum, Paddy Donlon a r r i v e s , they joke about their schoolmasters (Tiny K e l l y , S t i n k s G a r v e y , Froggy Pusey) l i k e a pair of schoolboys t h e m s e l v e s , (pp. 176-7) and d i s c u s s their c h i l d i s h misconceptions about their parents, (pp.178-9) And s o , although Fergus grows accustomed to the g h o s t s , he never c e a s e s to fear them or to revert to c h i l d i s h language when they  appear.  The c l i m a x of the novel is a moonlight p i c n i c on the beach arranged by the ghosts for Fergus as formerly they arranged his birthday p i c n i c s at the s e a s i d e . • Fergus assumes that he is f i n a l l y going to d i s c o v e r why his past has chosen this time and this manner to reappear to him and that some k i n d of r e v e l a t i o n is going to be made to h i m . He feels that he is once again "the birthday b o y , u n s c o l d a b l e " , (p.206) but d i s c o v e r s instead that he is being p l a c e d on t r i a l for his sins of o m i s s i o n by a crowd of h o s t i l e strangers.  W h e n he pleads for help from his f a m i l y , they merely, play an  obtuse game of Twenty Q u e s t i o n s w i t h h i m . . He f i n a l l y gives up l o o k i n g to his family for help and accepts Elaine Rosen's verdict: "Don't be c h i l d i s h . You know they're no h e l p . " (p.218) And indeed, Fergus';} father's f i n a l word to him is no more than a warning that unless he finds some meaning in his l i f e , then (fas life is m e a n i n g l e s s , (p. 22 7) By the end of the n o v e l , j. Fergus'f\father.has c e a s e d addressing him as a c h i l d , and F e r g u s , a much w i s e r man, has ceas ed r e p l y i n g in k i n d .  In the depiction of his two female protagnoists, Moore is no l e s s concerned w i t h b u i l d i n g up a pattern of language i n a s s o c i a t i o n w i t h each character w h i c h is both meaningful and appropriate.  The language w h i c h  Moore ascribes to Judith Hearne is p a r t i c u l a r l y effective:  her speech is  a wonderful amalgam of prejudice ("She'd find the commonness in h i m , quick enough, seeing she had it in h e r e s e l f . " p . 76), g e n t i l i t y ("Just a soupojon of c r e a m . " p.10), ingenuousness (Bernard Rice is " c r e e p y - c r a w l e y and a " s l y b o o t s " p.17), and s e l f - d e c e p t i o n ("A drink would put things r i g h t . " p . 106).  M o r e o v e r , Judith Hearne i s given to repeating herself —• she  always announces herself at the O ' N e i l l ' s w i t h the same, "It's only m e . " (p.71) — and therefore, her speech is easy to parody as the O ' N e i l l c h i l d r e n are quick to prove.  Judith Hearne's language, then, conveys both the  pathetic and ludicrous aspects of her character. Since Judith Hearne is a p r a c t i c i n g C a t h o l i c before the c l i m a x of the n o v e l , her conversation has a r e l i g i o u s s t r a i n . comfort and hope in prayers and novenae. of comfort;  She regularly seeks  But r e l i g i o n is not her only source  certain repeated phrases indicate that she finds more s o l a c e  in her few p o s s e s s i o n s and the language w i t h w h i c h she describes t h e m . Even at the end of the n o v e l when a l l her hopes have c o l l a p s e d , she is comforted by the sight of her "familiar t h i n g s . "  The photograph of her  Aunt D ' A r c y and the coloured oleograph of the Sacred Heart reassure her as they d i d at the outset of the n o v e l , and she t h i n k s , "When they're w i t h me, w a t c h i n g over me, a new place becomes h o m e . " (pp.18 and 223).  78  -  S i m i l a r l y , Judith Hearne finds i n her buttoned, pointed shoes and her quaint d e s c r i p t i o n of them, a sense of security: She looked down at her long pointed s h o e s . . It was always comforting to look at them when tears threatened. The l i t t l e buttons on them, w i n k i n g up at her l i k e w i s e l i t t l e friendly eyes - L i t t l e shoe e y e s , a l w a y s there, (p.78) v  On one o c c a s i o n , , however, the sight of her shoes and the repeated i n c a n t a t i o n , " l i t t l e shoe e y e s , a l w a y s there, " do not a l l e v i a t e her sorrow. When James M a d d e n rudely abandons her i n the street, she finds that, "the magic didn't w o r k . " (p.134)  For the most part, however, the magic  phrases w h i c h Judith invokes i n times of d i s t r e s s are more potent than prayers. The source of Judith Hearne's, d i s t r e s s l i e s , of c o u r s e , in her utter l o n e l i n e s s , a l o n e l i n e s s . w h i c h c a n o n l y b e f i l l e d by " M r . Right" and c h i l d r e n , (p. 114) But men, as Moore points out when Judith is introduced to Bernie R i c e , a l w a y s turn away from her: "He stared at M i s s Hearne w i t h bloodshot e y e s , rejecting her as a l l males had before h i m , " (pp.9-10) and the O ' N e i l l offspring, the children Judith knows b e s t , reject her hints of k i n s h i p , (p. 141) despair.  22  " A l l men" and "reject" are the l i t a n y of Judith Hearne's  ' When James M a d d e n does not leave her, "as a l l men had gone  before h i m , " (p.26) Judith b e l i e v e s that her prayers for a husband have been answered.  C o n s e q u e n t l y , when M a d d e n later comes to reject her, she  assumes that G o d has a l s o turned away: O G o d , . . .1 have renounced Y o u , do You hear me, I have abandoned Y o u . B e c a u s e , O Father, You have abandoned me. I needed Y o u , Father, and You d i d not answer. A l l men turned from me . And Y o u , Father? You t o o . (p.209).  79 The final irony for Judith Hearne is that even the door of the tabernacle which she desperately tries to open to reaffirm her faith, "rejects" her. (P. 211) Since men, even a man who like James Madden is "common as dirt, " (p.96) provide the path to Judith's salvation, the passages in which she imagines the unknown pleasures she could commit with a man are strikingly and unusually poetic: Whiteness hers, he s e i z e d , revelled i n . Virile he, his dark flashing e y e s , they lifted beakers of wine and quaffed them, losing themselves in the intoxication of l o v e , homage to Bacchus, lusts of the f l e s h , (p. 124) 23  S a d l y , the moments of sheer poetry in Judith Hearne's life can only be imagined;  reality holds no greater charms for her than "the little shoe  e y e s , always there."  That she should derive comfort at a l l from so slight  a phrase, is a measure of the meanness of her fate. Mary Dunne Lavery, by contrast, is "by a l l normal standards, a fortunate woman. " (p. 18)  She lives in a well-appointed New York apartment  with her successful playwright husband.  But even Mary Dunne is subject  to paranoia; in a world dominated by men, she feels that her identity as a woman is threatened.  For Mary Dunne and Judith Hearne, men are both a  source of and a cure for anxiety:  while Judith Hearne accuses God of  deserting her "as a l l men had before H i m , " Mary Dunne refers to her third husband as her Saviour and her new r e l i g i o n , (p.103)  Of course, Judith  Hearne's dilemma is more substantial, but Mary Dunne's fears do assume "ominous proportions" for her  24  and even lead her to consider s u i c i d e .  80  -  M a r y Dunne is much more the modern woman than Judith Hearne, and appropriately, her f i r s t - p e r s o n account of a d a y ' s events reflect her p r o c l i v i t y to analyze and d i s c u s s her fears in a more s o p h i s t i c a t e d manner. "I am a changeling who has changed too often, and there are moments when I cannot find my w a y b a c k . " (p. 109) In t h i r t y - t w o years M a r y Dunne has assumed many different personae and the various names by w h i c h she has been known have frequently c h a n g e d .  She has been M a r y  Dunne, M a r y P h e l a n , M a r y B e l l , M a r y La v e r y , other people have c a l l e d her M u t , M a r i a , M a r t h a , The Virgin M a r y , and she has thought of herself as B i g G e r t i e ' s daughter or o l d D a n Dunne's daughter.  M a r y is f i l l e d  w i t h panic when she cannot remember her name which, is the s y m b o l i c representation of h e r s e l f .  For although she often castigates her " m u l i s h ,  unbiddable memory," (p.170) her memories are, in f a c t , very precise:  people,  p l a c e s , times are a l w a y s e x a c t l y l a b e l e d in her accounts of the p a s t .  Mary,  for i n s t a n c e , r e c a l l s the first time she met Janice Sloane in M o n t r e a l although Janice has to be reminded, and every name i n M a r y ' s story is exact: I met Janice the time I came to M o n t r e a l w i t h Hat to do that first story for C a n a d a ' s G w n . When.I think of M o n t r e a l at that t i m e , for some reason I remember one winter e v e n i n g , snow on the ground and very c o l d , we were a l l bundled up in winter overcoats , s c a r v e s , furlined gloves , and overshoes , coming out of a bar c a l l e d the Blue C h i p near the Stock Exchange , w a l k i n g arm in arm, five of u s , coming up a steep, s l i p p e r y , i c y l i t t l e street toward S t . James Street. It was Friday night and Hat and C h a r l e s (they'd been to s c h o o l together at Upper Canada C o l l e g e ) had run into each other after w o r k . Janice and I had come down to the Blue C h i p to join them, and Eddie D o w n e s , the photographer, was there t o o . . . .(p.95) Every character, no matter how p e r i p h e r a l , who is mentioned-in this novel is carefully named:  M a r y ' s hairdresser, H e n r i ; M a c k i e M c l v o r ' s m a i d , G e r t ;  81 Janice S l o a n e ' s mother, M r s . D o w s o n , and her former employer, the Due de M i r e p o n t , a l l these characters who are mentioned in p a s s i n g are c a r e fully named.  This background of exact nomenclature makes M a r y D u n n e ' s  uncertainty about her own name a l l the more b i z a r r e , and her consequent fear, a l l the more understandable. "Down T i l t , " " P a n i c , " "The Juarez dooms, " — by these recurrent  .  phrases M a r y Dunne expresses her d e p r e s s i o n . At moments of hypertension, " M a d T w i n " as opposed to "Sensible Self" or " M y Buddy" takes charge and makes M a r y say things for w h i c h she does not f e e l a c c o u n t a b l e .  These  phrases are, however, not as t e l l i n g as M a r y ' s r e v e r s i o n to C a t h o l i c d i c t i o n to express her strongest f e e l i n g s .  C o n s c i o u s l y , she b e l i e v e s that "the l a s t  v e s t i g e of being a" C a t h o l i c was the l i t t l e part of me w h i c h saw  {abortion]  as murder," (p.131) but, i n fact, many v e s t i g e s of her C a t h o l i c training remain in her speech and affect her b e h a v i o u r .  For e x a m p l e , after she is  s t r i c k e n w i t h the r e a l i z a t i o n that.her mother's tumour may be malignant, she beings "to blubber out a plea to the A l m i g h t y . "  Of c o u r s e , she t e l l s  herself that "prayers are charms, they are k n o c k i n g on wood; " (p.16) but she nevertheless p r a y s . Although M a r y Dunne is no longer a true b e l i e v e r , she has not l o s t a r e l i g i o u s habit of m i n d .  Her e x p l e t i v e s , "Sweet Jesus  our S a v i o u r , " (p.45) and "Sweet Mother of G o d , " (p.159) are q u a s i - p r a y e r s as much as e x c l a m a t i o n s .  C e r t a i n l y her C a t h o l i c training affects her  attitude towards s e x u a l l o v e , for the "language she uses to d i s c u s s her relations w i t h men is r e l i g i o u s . Before M a r y (Moore c o u l d not have chosen a more apt name for his heroine whose latent C a t h o l i c i s m is such a powerful  82 force/) begins her account of three marriages, she explains that her anxiety over being thought promiscuous stems from her fears that she is 25 l i k e her apparently promiscuous father, (p.15)  Following Catholic  doctrine, she feels that the sins of her father have been v i s i t e d upon her.  From the outset, then, Moore e s t a b l i s h e s that i n M a r y ' s s u b c o n s c i o u s ,  sex and r e l i g i o n are l i n k e d . 'There is no doubt that M a r y D u n n e , l i k e Judith Hearne, does not seek her s a l v a t i o n i n C h r i s t but in a l i v i n g man w h o , in the c a s e of Terence, she then tends to d e i f y .  W h e n her r e l a t i o n s h i p s w i t h men f a i l ,  she immediately identifies herself as the guilty party, just as a C a t h o l i c accepts the blame for f a i l i n g in his duties towards G o d . M a r y is constantly judging herself i n her relations w i t h men, finding herself at fault, and suffering from her g u i l t . She remembers t h i n k i n g immediately after her marriage to Jimmy Phelan that she has committed the first r e a l mortal s i n in her l i f e : I s a i d to m y s e l f , You are a rotten person, M a r y D u n n e , y o u ' v e married h i m , yet you don't even want to k i s s h i m , let alone l i v e w i t h him the rest of your l i f e . T a l k about my rotten father, I felt I was twenty times as rotten as he ever w a s , . . . .;(p.l20) ;  L a t e r , when Jimmy a c c u s e s M a r y of b e i n g " c o l d as a bloody plaster s a i n t , " she b e l i e v e s him and t h i n k s , "Jimmy's r i g h t , . . .1 am c o l d , i t ' s my f a u l t , there's something wrong w i t h me. " (p.163)  M a r y ' s s e x u a l relations w i t h  her second husband are u n s u c c e s s f u l from their first c l a n d e s t i n e encounter, the aftermath of w h i c h she describes in r e l i g i o u s terms:  "Afterwards , I  remember, there was a tenderness between u s , there were I love y o u ' s  83  -  and do you love me's and yes I d o ' s , the first prayers for our earthly kingdom, the first of those l i t a n i e s I w o u l d come to know as the prayers of f a i l u r e . . . . " (p. 34)  In this marriage M a r y feels g u i l t y for not a c k n o w -  l e d g i n g the truth about her feelings and she expresses her guilt w i t h words taken d i r e c t l y from the Confiteor: The tenderness, the I love y o u ' s : that was fear. Our jokes and giggles were mild h y s t e r i c s . I knew i t , yet I did not want to know it and that was my fault, my fault, my most grievous fault, (p.35) And she feels an even greater guilt for confessing her i n f i d e l i t y to Hat and t e l l i n g him the truth at l a s t about their marriage at a time when he could not cope w i t h these truths: Gentlemen of the Jury,. I remember d i s t i n c t l y that on that very night. . . ,/»*I was not m y s e l f . But that excuse w i l l not satisfy me. I am my own judge, it is s t i l l M e a c u l p a , mea c u l p a , mea maxima c u l p a . . . .(p.101) M a r y a l s o speaks of her third husband in r e l i g i o u s terms . O n four o c c a s i o n s she parodies the Twenty-third Psalm to his p r a i s e ,  "Terence  is my s a v i o u r , I s h a l l not want, he maketh me to l i e down i n green 26 p a s t u r e s , he restoreth my s o u l . " (p.103)  Although M a r y enjoys good  relationswith Terence — she c a l l s their l o v e - m a k i n g a " M a s s of the s e n s e s " (p. 160) — even he can make her feel g u i l t y .  On one o c c a s i o n  she regrets comparing him unfavourably to the writers he admires, and she fears that because he may think that she is going mad. ''he w i l l be 1  forced to commit her to an a s y l u m .  To save herself from this terrifying  thought, she begins to say an act of c o n t r i t i o n ,  "Oh my G o d I am heartily  84 sorry for having sinned a g a i n s t Thee , because Thou art so good'I w i l l never more offend Thee and I w i l l amend my l i f e . " (pp. 158-59) Of c o u r s e , the " G o d " to w h i c h she makes this prayer c o u l d w e l l be T e r e n c e . M a r y ' s strong sense of guilt has C a t h o l i c overtones w h i c h she herself does not r e c o g n i z e . She c a l l s the depressions w h i c h her guilt inspire the "Juarez dooms, " but she then proceeds to describe them i n C a t h o l i c terms; D i d he know the J u a r e £ ) d o o m s w e r e ' o n me, the e l e c t r i c current dooms w h i c h cut me off from everyone e l s e , for in these dooms it is not the world w h i c h i s at f a u l t , it is me who is at f a u l t , my f a u l t , my most grievous f a u l t , yet I do not know my f a u l t , the Juarez dooms are not about r e a l t h i n g s , I do not think about H a t ' s s u i c i d e , I do not know what it is I have done, and s o , not k n o w i n g , I c a n not forgive m y s e l f . -1 know only that I have done wrong, , that I am b e i n g punished,/that I w i l l never be happy a g a i n , (pp.214-15) C l e a r l y , M a r y Dunne's overwhelming guilt for having committed unknown s i n s is analogous to the notion of o r i g i n a l s i n w h i c h is e q u a l l y i n e s c a p a b l e for a devout C a t h o l i c . Mary-Dunne ends her narrative on a note of q u a s i - h a p p i n e s s . She has momentarily reassured herself of her i d e n t i t y , but her-promise that, she w i l l not panic is spoken i n a, lengthy r u n - o n sentence of the type w h i c h throughout the novel indicates severe emotional d i s t r e s s .  S i m i l a r l y , as  she prides hereself on being able to r e c a l l the "thoughts, w o r d s , and deeds of t o d a y , " (p.217) she does not hear the echo of the C o n f i t e o r , "I confess to Almighty G o d , . . .that I have sinned e x c e e d i n g l y in thought, word and d e e d . . . , " w h i c h points again to her strong C a t h o l i c sense of s i n and  subsequent g u i l t , or as she w o u l d s a y , to the "Juarez d o o m s . " M a r y Dunne's language i l l u s t r a t e s the enduring effects of her childhood training i n C a t h o l i c i s m .  Her s p e e c h , however, has another  important dimension w h i c h reveals later influences on her character and w h i c h is an index of her more modern way of l i f e .  She is constantly  making references to the worlds of theatre and cinema and s e e i n g herself as w e l l as her acquaintances as a c t o r s .  M a r y senses the i n s i n c e r i t y of  people l i k e Hat B e l l , w h o , she points out, "acted his whole l i f e . " (p.35) u n t i l , "at the e n d ,  [he was]  so caught up i n his s e l f - d r a m a t i z a t i o n , 27  that he overplayed his role^/ (p.217) 1  During her few hours w i t h Janice  S l o a n e , M a r y is frequently aware that Janice is p l a y i n g up her role as the b r a v e , wronged wife (p.41) and enjoying the New York episode in her 28 "great d r a m a . " (p.58)  Janice's obvious pleasure in t a k i n g the part of  a heroine makes her remark about actors - - "They're so dumb*." — a l l the more i r o n i c .  The bovine Ernie Truelove a l s o reminds M a r y of a  character from films:  a cow in a D i s n e y cartoon, (p. 169) But M a r y , a  sometime a c t r e s s , finds even herself guilty of p l a y i n g r o l e s . W h e n her agent t e l l s her she is the ingenue t y p e , she a g r e e s , a d d i n g , "And in r e a l life i t ' s no different, I play an ingenue r o l e , w i t h s p e c i a l shadings demanded by each s u i t o r . " (p.31)  She even wonders i f a c t i n g i t s e l f was not just  another role for her l i k e the other careers she p l a y e d a t .  Throughout her  account of a day's e v e n t s , M a r y often sees herself as a figure from the entertainment w o r l d .  She is by times "the triumphant prosecuting attorney,"  making the Perry M a s o n point, (p.27) the straight man in a v a u d e v i l l e a c t ,  86 (p.87) and even the cat in the movie cartoon who has just been handed a t i c k i n g bomb: The bomb explodes and when the smoke clears there's the s i l l y cat staring at the remains of the bomb in its p a w . P a u s e . Then (quietly) the cat cracks into a thousand p i e c e s . , (p.7) It is s m a l l wonder that M a r y ' s sense of identity is a l s o c r a c k i n g . into a thousand pieces s i n c e she and the people around her are very b u s i l y engaged i n a c t i n g out d e c e p t i o n s .  M a r y often sees her past as a  film ("Surreal as an early Bunuel f i l m , I saw m y s e l f . .  " p . 24) or as a  play(*Those events are a play of w h i c h I remember every l i n e , stage d i r e c t i o n , entrance, and e x i t . " p.65):, and this penchant e x p l a i n s again why her memories destroy her sense of i d e n t i t y . She herself points out that when she tries to t e l l the story of her l i f e , the result i s "some f a l s e , edited l i t t l e m o v i e , " (p.4) at the same time as she holds, that "we are what we remember." (p.3)  O b v i o u s l y , if her sense of identity is based on  something as i n s u b s t a n t i a l as "a f a l s e , edited l i t t l e movie" or memories of a past i n w h i c h she is never herself but an actress p l a y i n g a r o l e , she is bound.to f e e l i n s e c u r e .  M a r y Dunne's narrative contains many other 29  references to entertainments,  in particular to the p l a y s , M a r a t - S a d e  (pp.39,177) and M a c b e t h (pp.100,150), w h i c h are b o t h , appropriately, about madness and death.  By making M a r y Dunne's language reflect the w o r l d of  a c t i n g , Moore is subtly e x p l a i n i n g why M a r y Dunne feels l i k e a c h a n g e l i n g . I Am M a r y Dunne is a novel b a s e d on memories.  It begins w i t h  the p r e p o s i t i o n , "Memento ergo sum — I remember, therefore I am" ( p . 3 ) ,  and traces M a r y Dunne's memories over a life of t h i r t y - t w o y e a r s . N a t u r a l l y , the w o r d s , "remember" and "memory" a n d , unfortunately, "forget" and "lose one's memory" recur more frequently than any other words.  For M a r y Dunne, forgetting is as frightening an experience as  . it is for Fergus Fadden, e s p e c i a l l y s i n c e she b e l i e v e s that forgetting implies a k i n d of death]/("As now, perhaps, I am beginning to die because some future me cannot keep me in m i n d . " p . 3) And y e t , remembering can be an e q u a l l y terrifying experience as M a r y ' s r e v e r s i o n to C a t h o l i c d i c t i o n i n times of d i s t r e s s and her many a l l u s i o n s to the deceptive world of stage and film r e v e a l . M a r y Dunne's C a t h o l i c remembrances, Judith Hearne's feelings of r e j e c t i o n , Fergus Fadden's a n x i e t i e s , Brendan T i e r n e y ' s new r e l i g i o n , Diarmuid D e v i n e ' s s c a n d a l , G a v i n Burke's f a i l u r e , and Ginger Coffey's b o y i s h trust i n luck — these are the themes w h i c h Brian Moore e l u c i d a t e s by the s p e c i a l patterns of language w h i c h he fashions around each protagonist.  S u c h a pattern, according,to D a v i d Lodge is "some s i g n i f i c a n t l y  recurring thread w h i c h however deeply hidden in the dense texture and b r i l l i a n c e of l o c a l c o l o u r i n g , accounts for our impression of a unique 30 identity in the w h o l e . "  Because the r e a d i l y d i s c e r n i b l e patterns of  d i c t i o n in M o o r e ' s seven novels are l i n k e d to h i s protagonists,  "the  unique identity" of each Moore n o v e l is once a g a i n seen to be the r e s u l t of M o o r e ' s overriding concern w i t h the central character.  88 Footnotes for Chapter III *David L o d g e , Language of F i c t i o n (London: Routledge and Kegan P a u l , 1966), p . 4 6 . 9 Dorothy Van Ghent, The E n g l i s h N o v e l : Form and F u n c t i o n (New York: Harper & Row, 1953), p . 110. 3 For further references to " g a m b l i n g " , see pp.14, 4 7 , 72, 180, 195, 2 4 2 . 4 For further references to " l u c k " and "the luck of the I r i s h " , see p p . 10, 22, 4 8 , 84, 114, 198, 2 3 4 . ^For further references to "his s h i p w o u l d come i n , " see p p . 5 0 , 9 3 , 222, 2 4 2 . 6 For further references to " h o p e , " see p p . 22, 5 2 , 80, 166, 186, 2 3 0 . 7  F o r further references to " v i c t o r y , " see p p . 78, 152, 161, 174, 179,243,  Q  For further references to G a v i n ' s sense of f a i l u r e , see p p . 60, 112, 113, 115, 134, 158, 159, 170, 184. 9 For further references to " o l d D e v , " see p p . 49, 61, 78, 109, 115. S e e , for example, pp.. 20, 24, 26, 30, 31-33, 4 7 , 48, 6 5 , 69, 74, 90, 9 2 . 1C  ^ S e e , for example, p p . 17, .21, 39, 86, 164. ' *%he w o r d , " r u t h l e s s , " u s e d to describe Brendan's determination, appears many t i m e s . See p p . 11, 4 8 , 49, 50, 80, 8 2 , 8 3 . 13 See p p . 6, 194, 282, 2 8 3 . 14 See a l s o p p . 4, 46, 4 9 . * See a l s o p . 8 7 . 5  ^ F o r further references to "strange" and "stranger," see p p . 34, 41, 254, 258, 314, 322 . 1 7  S e e p p . - 2 , 3, 12, 36, 37, 38, 4 8 , 88, 137.  1 8  S e e p p . 6, 17, 2 5 , 109, 130.  19 See p p . 13, 26  -  89  2 0  S e e pp . 3 , 24, 89, 101  2 1  S e e p p . 11, 214.  2 2  S e e p p . 11, 2 3 , 26, 67, 123, 134.  23 24  See a l s o p . 125. ' H a l l v a r d D a h l i e , Brian Moore (Toronto: Copp C l a r k , 1969), p . 1 0 8 .  25 See a l s o p . 64 2 6  S e e a l s o p p . 158, 160, 198.  27 See a l s o p . 150. 28 See a l s o p p . 4 3 , 91, 92 . 2 9  S e e a l s o p p . 5, 7, 18, 22, 54, 81, 157, 197, 217.  30 D a v i d L o d g e , Language of F i c t i o n , p . 8 0 .  CHAPTER TV  90  IMAGERY  Richard B . S a l e :  When does imagery come i n as a part of the w r i t i n g ? I notice in almost a l l of the books there is a sequence of repeated i m a g e s . Judith Hearne's button-eye s h o e s , for e x a m p l e . When does this come i n the p r o c e s s ?  Brian Moore:  If it doesn't come i n at the b e g i n n i n g , it doesn't come i n . You've got to see that person wearing that k i n d of shoes — I don't go back and put it i n l a t e r . Perhaps I a l w a y s w i l l write books around a character.  Here is an instance where one can trust the artist as w e l l as the , w o r k , for the tremendous w e a l t h of v i s u a l d e t a i l w h i c h gives M o o r e ' s f i c t i o n an i n t e n s e l y r e a l i s t i c q u a l i t y centres on the main char acter .  Naturally,  Moore i s not o n l y concerned w i t h the clear d e p i c t i o n of his protagonist. He a l s o creates an a l l - i m p o r t a n t s e t t i n g , both the place and its atmosphere, w h i c h influences the main character, and he v i v i d l y portrays the minor characters w i t h whom the protagonist i n t e r a c t s .  Beyond creating the d e s i r e d  representation of characters and s e t t i n g , the imagery of each n o v e l provides p s y c h o l o g i c a l insights and makes s o c i a l commentary when it pertains to the central character.  Moore uses s e v e r a l i m a g i s t i c techniques w h i c h  recur, w i t h v a r i a t i o n s , i n a l l his n o v e l s . This repetition is i n no way reprehensible s i n c e the techniques are t o t a l l y s u c c e s s f u l i n the full v i s u a l r e a l i z a t i o n of both the main character and the n o v e l i t s e l f . . The most notable v i s u a l technique used by Moore i n the portrayal of his protagonist is the mirror image. At some point i n every Moore n o v e l , his protagonists have o c c a s i o n to look at themselves in a mirror and to describe what they s e e .  This technique results in part from M o o r e ' s desire to a v o i d 2  authorial comment i n favour of a more dramatic rendering,  and it is a l s o  91 p a r t i c u l a r l y suited to M o o r e ' s interest in character s i n c e a mirror, w h i c h e n c l o s e s the image i n a frame, focuses the eye on a s i n g l e figure w h i l e cutting off the surrounding a r e a .  The mirror image serves the obvious  necessary purpose of t e l l i n g the reader what the protagonist looks l i k e , and the manner in w h i c h the protagonist 'perceives his own image is of p s y c h o l o g i c a l interest as w e l l .  Judith Hearne fondly enhances her mirror image to create  the Judith Hearne of her i l l u s i o n s , (p.20) but D i a r m u i d D e v i n e cannot alter the image he sees: As he s w i t c h e d on the h a l l l i g h t , his face surprised him from the h a l l s t a n d mirror. D i s e m b o d i e d , framed in that s m a l l r e c t a n g l e , it stared: l o n g , s a d , b e s p e c t a c l e d . The heavy mustache aged h i m , he r e a l i z e d . H i s face was of another species from the handsome men who d a i l y l o o k e d down on him from cigarette, shaving cream, and hair tonic a d v e r t i s e ments. W o u l d n ' t he look r i d i c u l o u s in a cinema poster? It w o u l d have to be a comedy p i c t u r e . And his clothes . O l d flannels and his father's watch c h a i n in his w a s t c o a t . He looked m i d d l e - a g e d . (p.53) S i m i l a r l y , Fergus Fadden finds that neither side of a makeup mirror c a n hide the fact that he is too o l d for D a n i , the mirror's owner: Fergus shut his mouth on his l o o s e , magnified teeth and turned D a n i ' s mirror around, hoping that on the other s i d e , in the smaller projection, his face w o u l d seem betterl o o k i n g . But in the smaller projection his f a c e , no longer blurred by m a g n i f i c a t i o n , was l i n e d , harder, the face of an aging young man under a false winter t a n . (p. 105) Brendan TierneyJs i n i t i a l d e s c r i p t i o n of h i m s e l f , as befits the egocentric writer of a f i r s t - p e r s o n narrative, is s e l f - c o n s c i o u s l y d e l i v e r e d without the a i d of a mirror.  "Shall I describe myself and get it over w i t h ? " is his  introduction to a rather studied portrait of h i m s e l f , (p.6)  The manner in  w h i c h he describes himself is here more d e s c r i p t i v e of his character than  the v i s u a l d e t a i l s he v o u c h s a f e s . r e v e a l e d i n a mirror image.  92  -  But Brendan, t o o , is caught and  H i s l a c k of s o p h i s t i c a t i o n and tact is mirrored  back to him as he impetuously barges into an interview w i t h a famous writer who l i v e s i n an elegant New York apartment:  "As I c r o s s e d the  mirrored foyer I s a w , r e f l e c t e d , an u n t i d y , b i g - h a n d e d farmer i n his best blue S u n d a y - g o - t o - m e e t i n g - s u i t . " (p.291) G e n e r a l l y , Moore as author does not make overt comments about the mirror image his characters r e f l e c t .  He either lets a character comment  on his own appearance, as Ginger Coffey does when he castigates the c h i l d i s h man he sees i n the mirror, (p.93) or Moore adds a t e l l - t a l e d e t a i l w h i c h is eloquent i n i t s e l f . W h e n , for example, G a v i n Burke who is most eager to be an a d u l t , is c o n v i n c e d by his appearance that he has f i n a l l y a c h i e v e d manhood, at l e a s t part of what he sees g i v e s the l i e to his conviction: . . . G a v i n w a l k e d toward the mirrors, admiring the sight of himself, a grown-up stranger i n his first dinner j a c k e t . . . and marveled how a simple t h i n g l i k e a rented dinner jacket made one, at l a s t , the compleat grownup. He eased the white handkerchief a . l i t t l e farther out of his breast pocket, and t h e n , his main worry, fiddled w i t h the b l a c k tie — t i e d for him by his mother - - w h i c h had an ugiy trick of t w i s t i n g , l o p s i d e d l y , one bow up, one bow d o w n . (p. 157) ;  That l o p s i d e d b l a c k t i e , inexpertly arranged by his mother, does detract from the image of "the compleat grownup." What each character sees i n the mirror reveals a truth about himself w h i c h he either chooses to accept as. do Diarmuid D e v i n e , Fergus F a d d e n , Brendan T i e r n e y , and Ginger C o f f e y , or to ignore, as do Judith Hearne and l  G a v i n Burke.  r  In either s i t u a t i o n , the way the character interprets what he  sees provides an insight into his character, or i n the c a s e of M a r y D u n n e ,  -  93  into her d i l e m m a . M a r y Dunne's problem of finding herself among the many personae she has assumed i s exemplified b y what she sees i n the mirror: N a k e d in the bathroom, I stood and stared at myself in the f u l l - l e n g t h mirror. I had run a b a t h , and just as I went to get into the tub, I saw myself naked i n this mirror. . I looked at my f a c e , a mask w h i c h looked back at me, at my body, w h i c h hid what happens i n s i d e i t , for this is h e l l and I am i n i t , . . . .(p.215) One knows l e s s about M a r y Dunne's a c t u a l p h y s i c a l appearance than that of any other Moore protagonist.  One does k n o w , however, that she is  beautiful and that other people who are attracted by her good l o o k s f a i l to know the r e a l M a r y Dunne w h o , as she s a y s , is hidden behind her p l e a s i n g exterior.  M a r y Dunne's d i f f i c u l t y i n e s t a b l i s h i n g her r e a l identity is  compounded by people l i k e M a c k i e and Jimmy, w h o , i n the past, forced her to f i l l  image they created w h i c h was not h e r s e l f .  As she e x p l a i n s ,  I remember i n the cab this morning I thought of Jimmy, who s a i d he l o v e d me but who i n r e a l i t y wanted a face and a body w h i c h happened to be m i n e . Sad as it s o u n d s , M a c k i e was the same. For she l o v e d a g i r l she invented, a g i r l she c a l l e d M a r i a . There was no M a r i a . . There was only me. (p.166) Ernie Truelove a l s o loves a v e r s i o n of M a r i a he has created w h i c h , as M a r y understands , is distorted by the mirror of his memory: In the c a r n i v a l h a l l of mirrors w h i c h is our memory we distort what we s e e . In E r n i e ' s mirror image of me, I am magnified, elongated into a g i r l who l e d him o n , the object of his great, u n h a p p y , u n f u l f i l l e d l o v e . W h i l e h e , in the equal of opposite d i s t o r t i o n of my mind's mirror is reduced to a squat mannikin from my past, a d u l l stranger, remembered only for his minor q u i r k s , (p.185) And s o , it is l e s s important in I Am M a r y Dunne that one knows e x a c t l y  -  94  -  what M a r y Dunne sees reflected in her mirror than that one understands how her good looks encourage her admirers to create other M a r y s i n her (  image that nullify her own sense of h e r s e l f . C l o t h e s a l s o form part of the v i s u a l image of M o o r e ' s protagonists and his d e s c r i p t i o n of their attire is both r i c h i n d e t a i l and i n n u a n c e . Judith Hearne'rs long pointed shoes w i t h the button eyes have often been 3 commented o n ,  but e q u a l l y r e v e a l i n g is her penchant for red c l o t h i n g  w h i c h Moore uses to i l l u s t r a t e the d i s c r e p a n c y between the image she feels she creates and the way other people see her. As she dresses for her first breakfast i n her Camden Street boarding h o u s e , she w o n d e r s , N o w , what to wear? A touch of c r i m s o n , my s p e c i a l c a c h e t . But what? Reds are so f i c k l e . S t i l l , red i n my colour . V e r m i l i o n . Yes 9 The b l a c k dress w i t h the v e r m i l i o n touch at c o l l a r and cuffs . (p.21) (  To complete her outfit she adds her garnets and her ruby r i n g , as later she puts on her red raincoat and red hat w i t h wax flowers . Unfortunately, other characters do not appreciate her " s p e c i a l c a c h e t . "  The c a s h i e r at her bank  thinks Judith Hearne is "a sight:" On the wrong side of forty w i t h a face as p l a i n as a p l a n k , and a l l dressed up, i f you p l e a s e , i n a red r a i n c o a t , a red hat w i t h a couple of t e r r i b l e - l o o k i n g o l d w a x flowers in i t . And t w o , i t ' s the mortal truth, two red rings on the one h a n d . (p.176) M i s s F r i e l is e q u a l l y s a r c a s t i c about Judith Hearne's b r a z e n , as she sees i t , appearance i n red: " W e l l , you should have seen her. She had on a red d r e s s , bright r e d , y o u ' v e never seen the l i k e of i t . And a red hat, I t e l l y o u , it was c o m i c . " (p. 181)  -  95  -  Even Moore d e s c r i b e s Judith Hearne as, "Bizarre and faltering in her crimson raincoat and her waxen flowered red h a t , " when she w a l k s to the bus stop w i t h Shaun O ' N e i l l , (p.79)  Judith Hearne's r e s i s t a n c e to aging  into a drab spinsterhood as represented by her red c l o t h i n g is both v a l i a n t and pathetic, e s p e c i a l l y in the l a s t portion of the n o v e l w h e n , w i t h her red raincoat unbuttoned and her red hat awry or tumbling off her head, she makes a f i n a l effort to assert her i l l u s i o n s , (pp. 197, 198, 202, 204, 205, 208.) W h e n Judith Hearne has faced the truth of her s i t u a t i o n , she is reduced to w e a r i n g a grey, i n s t i t u t i o n a l d r e s s i n g g o w n , a l l colour gone. Her f i n a l mirror image, she a d m i t s , is of an o l d woman, (p.219) A change in attire a l s o attends Ginger C o f f e y ' s change in status and even s y m b o l i z e s his change in o u t l o o k . that clothes make the man. (p.6)  Unfortunately, Ginger b e l i e v e s  M o r e o v e r , as H a l l v a r d D a h l i e e x p l a i n s ,  G i n g e r ' s e x a l t e d view of himself as a " D u b l i n S q u i r e , " who wears a Tyrolean hat and a s h e e p - s k i n - l i n e d c o a t , constitutes the major o b s t a c l e in Ginger's progress toward s e l f - k n o w l e d g e . In order to reach a true understanding of his a b i l i t i e s , Ginger must first strip away the c l o a k s of identity he has a s s u m e d .  G i n g e r ' s gift of the Alpine buttons and brush from  his hat, i s , a c c o r d i n g to D a h l i e , "the first step in d i v e s t i n g himself of the external manifestation of his assumed p o s e s .  And.later, Ginger's  d e c i s i o n to accept the p o s i t i o n of diaper d e l i v e r y man.forces him to complete "the denuding process begun e a r l i e r . " ^ Off went his Tyrolean hat, his h a c k i n g j a c k e t , his gray tweed trousers and brown suede boots . On the bench they l a y , the l a s t remains of Ginger C o f f e y . O n went the uniform , anonymous and h u m i l i a t i n g . , (p. 114)  -  96  -  The hated anonymity is momentarily e s s e n t i a l for Ginger since it i s , as D a h l i e points out, "a necessary stage between the d i s c a r d i n g of his 6 false identity and the assumption of ;his true o n e . " G a v i n Burke's hated uniform s y m b o l i z e s for him his h u m i l i a t i n g a s s o c i a t i o n w i t h the failures who people the A i r Raid Precautions U n i t . H i s uniform is a l s o an object of d e r i s i o n for his family and r e l a t i v e s who jeer at him for l o o k i n g l i k e C h a r l i e C h a p l i n (p. 10) or a detested Black and Tan. (p. 11) v  But the fact that G a v i n ' s uniform does not fit him properly  indicates that he, in truth, is not an A . R . P . misfit and that his f a m i l y ' s dire predictions for his future w i l l not m a t e r i a l i z e . At the end of the n o v e l , - . 7 G a v i n ' s uniform a c t u a l l y gives him a new-found authority, just as the y e l l o w s l i c k e r w h i c h had c a u s e d him much embarrassment during d e c o n tamination d r i l l s acquires a g r i s l y usefulness during the coffining of the dead w h i c h is the job that e s t a b l i s h e s G a v i n ' s manhood once and for a l l . (p.231) M o o r e ' s portrayal of G a v i n Burke presents an interesting contrast to his d e p i c t i o n of Diarmuid D e v i n e . O n the one hand, G a v i n can see himself as an a d u l t , who drinks i n pubs, l o o k s l i k e Ronald C o l e m a n , or who s i t s w i t h an older woman, L i l i , on his k n e e s , but Moore constantly shows that G a v i n ' s outward appearance does not match his adult p r e t e n s i o n s .  O n the other hand,  Diarmuid D e v i n e thinks that changing his o l d m i s - m a t c h e d clothes for newer, sportier togs w i l l somehow effect a rejuvenating change in his character. But the change is a l l e x t e r i o r .  U n l i k e G a v i n , Diarmuid has no interior s e l f -  image to match the younger man he tries to appear.  -  97  -  The Emperor of I c e - C r e a m is not the only n o v e l i n w h i c h the apparel of the younger generation s y m b o l i z e s the rift between parent and child.  In A n Answer from L i m b o , M r s . Tierney finds Brendan's appearance  i n dark g l a s s e s d i s t u r b i n g . She wonders, "What was he doing wearing dark g l a s s e s , l o o k i n g l i k e some Dago D a n you w o u l d n ' t trust your g i r l s w i t h ? " (p.32)  When Brendan accuses her of not knowing him — they  haven't seen each other for s e v e r a l years — she r e p l i e s , "How w o u l d I know you? . . .Is it a t i n cup you're earning your l i v i n g w i t h ? " (p. 32) Her astonishment at his North American habit of wearing sun g l a s s e s w o u l d be unimportant, were it not the o c c a s i o n of her f i r s t , irremediably damaging remark to Brendan's w i f e , Jane, who, is one quarter J e w i s h . W h e n Jane asks M r s . Tierney if she finds Brendan changed, M r s . T i e r n e y ' s innocent but t a c t l e s s reply s y m b o l i z e s the i n e v i t a b l e d i v i s i o n w h i c h w i l l characterize their ensuing r e l a t i o n : "Sure, I d i d n ' t know him at a l l , when he met me,""she s a i d , s m i l i n g . * W i t h those dark g l a s s e s on h i m , I took for for some Jew M a n . " (p.38) 11  It is s m a l l wonder that a l l three Tierneys continue to regard each other as strangers. S i m i l a r l y , Fergus Fadden's ghostly father cannot imagine that the o l d e r , f o r e i g n - l o o k i n g ("I'd say he's a Yank")  Fergus i s , i n f a c t , the son  he l a s t saw twenty-one years ago i n I r e l a n d . D r . Fadden comments on ;  Fergus' odd clothes and in particular on his "damn awful s h o e s . . . G u t t i e s , we u s e d to c a l l t h e m . " (p. 19) Before they even begin to speak, Fergus' father has e s t a b l i s h e d himself as a distant authoritarian figure who s t i l l c r i t i c i z e s his son's c l o t h e s , although his son is an a d u l t .  -  98  -  Just as Moore uses the mirror image differently i n I Am M a r y Dunne from a l l the other n o v e l s , so he a l s o takes a differing approach to M a r y Dunne's clothes.  She i s the only protagonist whose clothes are not  d e s c r i b e d in any d e t a i l , although she herself describes what other c h a r a cters w e a r .  Terence, for example, she remembers wore a "black and white  houndstooth j a c k e t , tan corduroy trousers, blue w o r k s h i r t , red k e r c h i e f , suede b o o t s , " to their n e a r - d i s a s t r o u s luncheon before M a r y left for M o n t r e a l , (p.47)  W h e n M a r y does make a point of d e s c r i b i n g what she  wore on a p a r t i c u l a r o c c a s i o n , it is only because she feels guilty about her c h o i c e of c l o t h e s . After M a r y has become i n v o l v e d w i t h Terence, she does not dress up for her husband: I p i c k e d out the green and l i l a c s i l k , w h i c h was expensive and okay for a good restaurant but not something I'd ever l i k e d . After a l l , I was going out w i t h H a t , o n l y H a t . I was not i n love w i t h H a t , . . . .Yet when I remember p i c k i n g that green and l i l a c dress I d i d not l i k e , it makes me want to cry for H a t . (p.67) M a n y years l a t e r , M a r y s t i l l feels guilty for this s i n of o m i s s i o n . In a d d i t i o n to presenting a v i v i d d e s c r i p t i o n of the central character i n terms of their d r e s s , Moore a l s o includes i n each n o v e l a scene i n w h i c h the protagonist is r e v e a l e d either p a r t i a l l y or completely d i s r o b e d . Such scenes involve a certain l o s s of d i g n i t y for the character in q u e s t i o n , but it is this s l i p p i n g of the p u b l i c mask w h i c h a l s o l a y s bare their humanity. Judith Hearne, for example, often appears f o o l i s h , p a t h e t i c , or even c o m i c , but nowhere do her f a i l i n g s appear more humanly forgiveable than the moment when she presents hereself in drunken dishevelment to M o i r a O ' N e i l l ,  -  99  -  a woman Judith has a l w a y s half hated and half a d m i r e d .  Mrs. O'Neill  is embarrassed to see the neck of a gin bottle s t i c k i n g out of Judith Hearne's bag:  "Somehow, it was l i k e seeing M i s s Hearne w i t h her  clothes u n d o n e . " (p.197)  The scenes w h i c h have the same effect i n  M o o r e ' s other novels do involve some degree of u n d r e s s .  There i s  Diarmuid D e v i n e , squatting naked behind the bed to hide his " w h i t e , u n p u b l i c " body from U n a . (p.148)  The picture he presents in this h u m u l i a -  ting scene epitomizes his inexperience and modest c i r c u m s p e c t i o n . There is Ginger Coffey whose b o y l i k e attitude to his wife is r e v e a l e d w h e n , afraid that she w i l l d i s c o v e r he has slept in his c l o t h e s , he hurriedly undresses and hops into a makeshift bed in his underpants, c l o s i n g his eyes as his wife passes the door. (p.41)  There is Fergus Fadden who b l u s h e s  at the image of M r s . S i n c l a i r finding him making love to her daughter because this image reminds him of b e i n g s i m i l a r l y caught by Peggy Sanford's " M a m , " and even reminds him that his ghost-parents may a l s o catch him in flagrante. Fergus' parents, l i k e G i n g e r ' s w i f e , c a n s t i l l make him f e e l l i k e a guilty c h i l d , (p. 130) A n d there is a humiliated G a v i n Burke, naked i n a shower during decontamination d r i l l i n w h i c h he, as a supposed v i c t i m , must endure the a p p l i c a t i o n of b l e a c h paste by the "lunatic s a d i s t , " Post Officer C r a i g , (p. 76) It is not surprising that this experience causes G a v i n to reflect that his present l i f e is degrading h i m . In a l l these s c e n e s , Moore is pointing to the v u l n e r a b i l i t y of his protagonists when they, as Fergus Fadden would s a y , are seen i n "a state of nature." (p.16)  -  100  -  In An Answer from Limbo and I Am M a r y Dunne Moore uses the image .of his protagonist as naked and defenseless to s p e c i a l effect.  Naturally,  Brendan, i n his autobiographical account, never places h i m s e l f in such an exposed p o s i t i o n ; Brendan is a l w a y s carefully wearing the mask of the a r t i s t .  He does humiliate himself in his interview w i t h S o l S i l v e r , but  then, in Brendan's v i e w , S o l S i l v e r is a compromised man whose o p i n i o n does not c o u n t .  M o r e o v e r , Brendan's brash behaviour fits his portrait of  the artist temporarily deranged, and> a g a i n . i n Brendan's v i e w , genius is pardoned e v e r y t h i n g .  It is p r e c i s e l y this n a r c i s s i s m w h i c h Brendan r e v e a l s  in such an e p i s o d e , that v i c t i m i z e s Brendan's wife and his mother.  There-  fore, they are the characters whom Moore presents as frail and mortal in their n a k e d n e s s .  F i r s t Jane, who has c o n c l u d e d that her marriage is a  f a i l u r e , is pictured s i t t i n g naked i n a c h a i r , "hugging her breasts as though she c r a d l e d a b a b y . "  As she watches her s l e e p i n g husband,  she  r e a l i z e s that he represents no more to her than a figure, "without whose protection and h e l p , life would be uncertain and d i f f i c u l t . " (p. 308) At no other point in A n Answer from Limbo does Jane appear so t o t a l l y  defenseless.  S e c o n d l y , M r s . Tierney is pictured by Moore as she l i e s injured and d y i n g on the floor of a strange apartment. This d e s c r i p t i o n , u n l i k e any other portion of the n o v e l , is printed i n i t a l i c s : She l a y , just i n s i d e the door of the s i t t i n g room, on her left s i d e , her arms r a i s e d as though she had been shot down in the act of putting her hands u p . She had moved her head c l e a r of the vomit on the rug and her face rested on the floor boards . Her hair f e l l over her e y e s , her nightdress was r u c k e d up, baring her buttocks and lower abdomen, (p.270)  101 The v o i c e one hears in this passage is apparently M o o r e ' s , as he c a l l s attention to the cruel neglect of M r s . Tierney's c h i l d r e n who cause her naked suffering. . In I Am M a r y Dunne, M a r y Dunne alludes several times to her doom dreams,  "when naked is p a n i c ; when naked is the dooms, the g l o o m s ,  the nightmare in w h i c h I see myself in unknown hotel rooms w i t h nameless g m e n ; . . . . " (p.160) She recognizes that this dream stems from her irrational fear of being thought promiscuous, but she is nevertheless unnerved by •9/'' its recurrence. ' To her greater d i s t r e s s , Ernie Truelove surprises her when she is only h a l f - d r e s s e d and later uses the incident to insinuate that M a r y Dunne i s one of the " s o - c a l l e d a c t r e s s e s " who appear naked on s t a g e , "just l i k e a w h o r e . " (p.178)  Ernie's c r u e l i n s u l t reinforces M a r y ' s g u i l t y  fear w h i c h has already inspired her "doom d r e a m s . " of M a r y en d e s h a b i l l e  Moore uses the image  and the incident based on it to i l l u s t r a t e that M a r y  Dunne is a v i c t i m of both masculine i n s e n s i t i v i t y and of an o v e r - a c t i v e sense of g u i l t . In a l l of M o o r e ' s n o v e l s , the image of the protagonist as naked and vulnerable gives the reader a sense of his humanfrailty:, w h i l e in I Am M a r y Dunfte and An Answer from L i m b o , the image relates to major themes of the novel as w e l l . M a r y Dunne's "doom dreams" are an example of another i m a g i s t i c technique w h i c h Moore uses to reveal the psychology of his protagonists. The dreams, nightmares, and daydreams of M o o r e ' s main characters are so v i v i d l y rendered that they l i t e r a l l y become part of the imagery of each  102 novel.  Dreams or nightmares, l i k e M a r y D u n n e ' s , generally e l u c i d a t e  the fears of the dreamer:  M a r y Dunne fears she is the promiscuous daughter  of a promiscuous father;  (pp. 15, 64, 160) M r s . Tierney fears for the  s a l v a t i o n of her immortal s o u l ;  (p.211') Brendan-Tierney fears that a boyhood  boast of becoming a great writer w i l l not come true;  (p.6) and Fergus Fadden  fears that his h a l l u c i n a t i o n s of the day are a sign of impending madness . (p. 160) Ginger Coffey experiences a w a k i n g nightmare when he i s afraid that his wife r e a l l y does love Gerry G r o s v e n o r . (pp.148-49)  Waking  fantasies are even more prevalent than dreams in M o o r e ' s n o v e l s i n c e he is frequently concerned w i t h recounting how a character's I l l u s i o n s prevent him from a c c e p t i n g the r e a l i t i e s of his l i f e .  Moore l a v i s h e s considerable  d e t a i l on s u c h fantasies w h i c h make his characters' desires abundantly clear.  Brendan T i e r n e y , for example, enjoys a highly flattering and dramatic  v i s i o n of his r e s i g n a t i o n from his p o s i t i o n as a magazine writer: Tused to haye^ ithe^towiyeditorial s l a v e , w a l k down the corridors of my place of employment for the l a s t t i m e . There is a murmuring in the c u b i c l e s as I pass the r e c e p t i o n i s t ' s desk and enter the office of M a c k i n l e y D o w n e s , e d i t o r - i n - c h i e f . There is further murmuring as D o w n e s ' s v o i c e is heard, first reproachful, then entreating, He offers me a r a i s e i n salary; he paints a v i v i d picture of my p o s s i b l e future w i t h the m a g a z i n e . F i n a l l y , in a l a s t effort to keep me, he proposes a year's leave of a b s e n c e . A l l his offers are i g n o r e d . I r e s i g n . Envious eyes follow me as I w a l k to the e l e v a t o r s , my parting bonus check in h a n d . c  :;  '  K  But; yesterday"fact'• d i d ' n b f ' h t " f a n t a s y . (p./58)  For most of M o o r e ' s main characters, fact does not fit fantasy, but their f a n t a s i e s , important v i s u a l elements in each n o v e l , are nevertheless a guage of the i l l u s i o n s w h i c h the characters harbour.  Judith Hearne's  -  103  -  fanciful daydreams grow i n c r e a s i n g l y d i v o r c e d from r e a l i t y as she approaches her f i n a l breakdown, i n apparent compensation for her many disappointments.  Her domestic fantasies of being married to M a d d e n (p.29)  are l e s s i n c o n c e i v a b l e than her erotic daydream of being s e x u a l l y a s s a u l t e d by her doctor's a s s i s t a n t ,  (p.125)  This fantasy is followed by an even  more incredible daydream in w h i c h she imagines herself first i l l and then d e a d , to everyone's c h a g r i n , e s p e c i a l l y M a d d e n ' s . (pp.165-66)  In Judith  Hearne's grandest i l l u s i o n of a l l , she sees herself p o s s e s s e d of w e a l t h , beauty, d i g n i t y , important friends and admirers, when in fact, she is approaching her greatest h u m i l i a t i o n . D r i v i n g i n a t a x i to Earnscliffe Home, Judith pictures herself a s , A grande dame, M i s s Judith Hearne of B e l l a v i s t a , M a l o n e Road, B e l f a s t , r e l a x e d among the soft cushions as her Daimler purred p o l i t e l y past l e s s e r c a r s . M u s i c a l , she thought of the musicale she w o u l d give that e v e n i n g . G i e s e k i n g had promised to be present and there w o u l d be a s m a l l r e c i t a l . . . .The butler w o u l d announce the guests , y e s , they were a l l there, the'handsome s o l d i e r she had admired so much i n the advertisements for The G r e y s ' c i g a r e t t e s . A diplomat, F r e n c h , . . . a n o l d lady who wore a strange s a s h , Maude Gonne M a c B r i d e , . . . .And in a corner, dressed properly in evening c l o t h e s / a f f a b l e i n the manner of his r a c e , James M a d d e n , i m p r e s s e d , hardly daring to speak to her. G r a c i o u s , she s m i l e d at him over the Lord B i s h o p ' s hand.. . .Father Q u i g l e y , the bishop s a i d , Oh my dear M i s s Hearne, I don't seem to r e c a l l his n a m e . . . , P r i n c e l y , the b i s h o p p a s s e d , made way for M o i r a O ' N e i l l g u s h i n g , Oh Judy dear, what a wonderful e v e n i n g ! Eyebrows s l i g h t l y lifted: O h , d i d you en joy i t , M o i r a dear? And how are the c h i l d r e n ? So long s i n c e I've seen them, y e s , it was Paris this t i m e , the Due de G u i s e simply i n s i s t e d I stay another w e e k . I've been so terribly r u s h e d . Y e s , I must try to get over some Sunday, (pp. 187-88) r  104  -  What sweet yet innocent revenge Judith Hearne enjoys i n t h i s , her l a s t and best fantasy, before she is confined to Earnscliffe Home as a patient. Ginger Coffey a l s o seeks revenge in dreams against the people who,  i n his o p i n i o n , have wronged h i m . When his wife berates him and  his daughter nags h i m , he enters a world where "no man was saddled w i t h girning w i v e s and ungrateful daughters, there were unlimited funds to spend, the food was plentiful and non-fattening, there w e r e . . .no sneerers and mockers w a i t i n g to see you f a i l , no rents to pay, no clothes to b u y , no bank managers." (p.40) And a g a i n , when his wife and daughter leave him,  he imagines himself l i v i n g a happy, d i g n i f i e d , and solitary, life  without them as "a mystery man, the hermit of the Y . M . C . A . "  After  many years of i s o l a t i o n , he t e l l s a female singer that her v o i c e has been his sole companion: W o u l d she pause, the tears coming to her e y e s , would she put out her gloved hand, l e a d i n g him towards her l i m o u s i n e , s a y i n g Take me to your room and t e l l me a l l about y o u r s e l f ? What i s your name? W h y is a handsome, i n t e l l i g e n t man l i k e y o u r s e l f l i v i n g this hermit's l i f e . W h y ? A h , it was c r i m i n a l of that wife and daughter to abandon y o u . You gave them up? W h y ? Because you had your p r i d e , you refused to stay where you were no longer w a n t e d . A h , you are a s a i n t , James F r a n c i s C o f f e y . A saint to have put up w i t h them so l o n g . (p.106) But Ginger can a l s o reason himself out of his fantasies:  he soon r e c o g n i z e s  that the "Hermit of the Y . M . C . A . " would have no one to applaud his s a c r i f i c e s , and after a l l , "What good was i t , doing something, if nobody in the whole world knew you were doing i t ? " (p. 106)  -  105  -  G i n g e r ' s emigration to Canada was b a s e d on a dream of the adventurous p o s s i b i l i t i e s of the New W o r l d .  W h i l e s t i l l in Ireland he  had d e c i d e d that although it was too late to do the things he had once dreamed of, "paddling down the Amazon w i t h four Indian companions, c l i m b i n g a peak i n Tibet or s a i l i n g a. raft from Galway to the W e s t I n d i e s , " it was not too late "to head off for the New W o r l d i n search of fame and fortune." (pp.13-14)  He d i s c o v e r s , however, that the New W o r l d does  not a u t o m a t i c a l l y offer him opportunities for s u c c e s s and that M o n t r e a l is a c i t y of c o l d r e a l i t i e s . It is not u n t i l the end of the n o v e l that he has a v i s i o n of the c i t y as p r o m i s i n g , and this o n l y after he has been r e l e a s e d from prison:  "The c i t y , its roofs and cornices crusted w i t h s n o w ,  its rushing inhabitants muffled in furs, seemed a b u s y , m a g i c a l p l a c e , a joy to be abroad i n . " (p.235)  The mature G i n g e r , however, r e a l i z e s  that his v i s i o n is but part of a f l e e t i n g moment of h a p p i n e s s . Diarmuid Devine i n The Feast of L u p e r c a l  is far too self-demeaning  to permit himself flattering or promising daydreams.  S t i l l , on one o c c a s i o n ,  Diarmuid does a l l o w himself to dream of a future p o s s i b i l i t y , but even this dream is a measure of D e v i n e ' s s e l f - d e p r e c a t i o n .  Because of his mistaken  notion that Una is pregnant, he i s overjoyed by the prospect that she w i l l have to marry him: . . . h i s face grew suddenly e x c i t e d as though he had r e c e i v e d an i n s p i r a t i o n too startling to c o n t r o l . He began to w a l k , m o r e q u i c k l y now, as though his body must respond to this new and powerful s t i m u l u s . Supposing the worst were true? W e l l t h e n , the D u b l i n fellow could not marry t w i c e , c o u l d he? A husband would have to be found, a husband who would take the c h i l d and breed legitimate brothers and s i s t e r s to keep it company. She would not refuse h i m . She c o u l d n o t . (p.121)  106 D e v i n e is further delighted by the thought that U n a , a g i r l in her p o s i t i o n , w o u l d not laugh at his l a c k of experience on their wedding night, (p.25) This p a t h e t i c , s e l f - s a c r i f i c i n g v i s i o n , so u n l i k e the romantic daydreams of Judith Hearne and Ginger C o f f e y , f a i l s to m a t e r i a l i z e , for'Una does not need a husband after a l l . And as D e v i n e apparently s e n s e s , she w o u l d not have him unless it were n e c e s s a r y . A s i d e from the o c c a s i o n a l outright fantasy — " M a y b e t h e y ' l l name a theatre after me.  The Burke, "(p.72) — G a v i n Burke is a l s o not given to  harbouring elaborate daydreams.  L i k e Diarmuid D e v i n e , his v i s i o n s of the  future are generally connected w i t h a p o s s i b l e e v e n t u a l i t y , in his c a s e , World War II.  G a v i n ' s apparent l a c k of concern for his future w h i c h his  parents infer from his job w i t h the A . R . P . , stems from his reading of particular modern poets who have prophesied the utter destruction w h i c h war n e c e s s a r i l y entails.  H e n c e , the war produces in G a v i n "a v i s i o n of the grownups' w o r l d  in ruins:" It w o u l d not matter i n that ruined world i f G a v i n Burke had f a i l e d his Schools L e a v i n g C e r t i f i c a t e . The records would be buried in r u b b l e . W a r was freedom, freedom from futures. There was nothing in the world so imposing that a b i g bomb c o u l d n ' t blow it u p . (p.7) G a v i n ' s notion of the war is h i g h l y r o m a n t i c .  He sees h i m s e l f , "wearing his  s t e e l h e l m i t , dashing into the house across the way to carry the t y p i s t d o w n s t a i r s , she h a l f - n a k e d and h y s t e r i c a l i n her relief." (p.8) is abruptly amended, however, when Belfast is bombed.  This romantic notion The people G a v i n  carries are s e r i o u s l y injured and the only naked females he touches are c o r p s e s . G a v i n ' s v i s i o n of the grownups' world i n ruins is f u l f i l l e d , but to an altogether  -  107  different effect than G a v i n had i m a g i n e d . Irony, w h i c h attends the unexpected consequences of dreams or v i s i o n s w h i c h are f u l f i l l e d as Gavin's; is, is the dominant mode of A n Answer from L i m b o , in w h i c h the dreams of a l l three characters are r e a l i z e d . W h i l e most of M r s . T i e r n e y ' s dreams are of the past, one of her truly frightening dreams is a v i s i o n of the future i n w h i c h she imagines herself after death b e i n g judged by G o d (in her dream, her father) on Judgment D a y . As she stands at the foot of a great s t a i r c a s e , dressed in a white nightgown s t a i n e d w i t h f i l t h , she is a c c u s e d of having acted out of s e l f - i n t e r e s t . her r e l a t i v e s comes to her defense.  None of  Just as she feels the flames of h e l l  at the back of her n e c k , she awakes i n the s t i f l i n g heat of a New York apartment^Jpp.. 211-13) M r s . T i e r n e y ' s sole dream of the future is a c t u a l l y prophetic: the p a i n ^ at death, the absence of r e l a t i v e s , even the stained nightdress a l l become r e a l i t i e s . hairy L a t i n s "  Jane T i e r n e y ' s daydreams of "potent,  a l s o m a t e r i a l i z e when,,;' ^ - i as George W o o d c o c k points  out",^becomes the a p p a l l e d mistress of a s e x u a l acrobat named Vito I t a l i a n o . " The a d j e c t i v e , " a p p a l l e d " , e x a c t l y describes Jane's amazed r e a c t i o n to the unpleasant r e a l i z a t i o n of her daydreams.  Brendan is a l s o a p p a l l e d  by the person he becomes when his dream of becoming a writer comes true. At his mother's funeral, he sees himself not as a f e e l i n g human b e i n g , but as a mere observer and recorder of e v e n t s , — a w r i t e r . The dreams of a l l three characters become fact and a l w a y s w i t h the same i r o n i c a l t w i s t . M o o r e ' s use of dreams as part of the v i s u a l i z a t i o n of his f i c t i o n is different in Fergus from his other n o v e l s .  Here the v i s i o n s are so r e a l i s t i c  -  108  -  that F e r g u s , h i m s e l f , apparently accepts his h a l l u c i n a t i o n s as phenomenal, or even "more than phenomenal, for a phenomenon in the Kantian sense c o u l d be an i l l u s i o n . . . " (p. 7 7) Fergus finds it v i r t u a l l y i m p o s s i b l e to d i s t i n g u i s h between r e a l people and the v i v i d figures of dead or distant relations and friends from his past who shoulder into his present.  When  Boweri appears unannounced in Fergus house, Fergus' first thought is that 1  he i s a h a l l u c i n a t i o n too: He saw Boweri in his i c e - c r e a m s u i t , r o y a l blue s h i r t , o r a n g e - a n d - b l a c k scarf, white a l p a r g a t a s . He saw Boweri laugh at his own j o k e , heard the stress of his b r e a t h i n g , even n o t i c e d a s m a l l pulse beating in B o w e r i ' s t e m p l e . Yet there was seemingly no difference in the r e a l i t y of B o w e r i , who could be here i n t h i s place at this t i m e , and these others, who c o u l d not. Thus a new anxiety was added to the d a y . From now o n , how w o u l d he know who was r e a l ? (pp.67-68) C e r t a i n l y , Fergus' h a l l u c i n a t i o n s of his ghostly v i s i t o r s are as r e a l i s t i c a l l y rendered as any other characters i n the n o v e l .  His sister, Maeve,  for example, appears just as she must have looked as a s c h o o l g i r l in her uniform w i t h her hair done up in a t h i c k b r a i d , "and on her right breast was the s c h o o l badge, showing a heart, a c r o s s , and a wreath of t h o r n s . " (pp. 52-53)  L i k e the other a p p a r i t i o n s , she w a l k s , t a l k s , and even eats  some food w h i c h she takes from Fergus' refrigerator.  The r e a l i s m of these  ghostly v i s i o n s is j u s t i f i e d for, as Fergus e x p l a i n s to M a e v e , he is the writer i n their f a m i l y , the person w i t h the imagination to invent her. (p.54) Yet another highly suggestive i m a g i s t i c technique w h i c h Moore uses to exemplify the fears of his characters is the v i v i d portrayal of another character w i t h whom each protagonist i d e n t i f i e s ; g e n e r a l l y , M o o r e ' s  109  -  main characters see this character as a forboding image of their future. In Judith Hearne, the image of Edie M a r r i n a n , s i c k and abandoned in a h o s t e l run by nuns, i s , i n d e e d , p r o p h e t i c . Edie warns her, and she d o e s .  " Y o u ' l l s e e , Judy, y o u ' l l  see,"  Eventually as a patient in the same h o s p i t a l ,  M i s s Hearne looks for Edie M a r r i n a n during chap'^'el, but cannot d i s t i n g u i s h her among a l l the women c l a d in grey d r e s s i n g g o w n s .  "We a l l look the  s a m e , " she c o n c l u d e s , (p. 220) M o s t of M o o r e ' s other main characters see the foreboding characters i n time to a v o i d their s i t u a t i o n s .  Ginger Coffey does not become B i l l y  D a v i s , w h o , an emigrant l i k e G i n g e r , is a c t u a l l y l i v i n g the meagre role of "the hermit of the Y . M . C . A . " w h i c h Ginger had once r o m a n t i c i z e d , (p. 207) Brendan Tierney does not become P e l a r d y , "the l i v i n g C h r i s t of a l l own f e a r s . " (p.61)  [his]  G a v i n Burke does not become a permanent A . R . P . m i s f i t ,  a drunkard l i k e C a p t a i n Lambert, (p.62) or e v e n , one s u p p o s e s , homosexual l i k e Matthew and M a u r i c e , (p.95)  an/arty  And M a r y Dunne does not  become, . . .one of those drear wan women who wander the supermarkets, a i m l e s s l y pushing wire shopping carts up and down the a i s l e s of merchandise at three in the afternoon, their minds muzzy w i t h M u z a k , w h i l e up front on the shopping cart some infant slobbers and pees in its snowsuit and farther up the a i s l e its b o i l y brother, aged three, n o i s i l y upsets a soapflakes d i s p l a y , (p.130) M a r y Dunne paints another v i v i d picture of her p o s s i b l e future self: . . .1 w i l l get w o r s e , I w i l l lose not only my memory but my m i n d , and at the e n d , I w i l l be that vegetable squatting on the floor of the a s y l u m ' s disturbed w a r d , unable to say its name, any of its names, for it has forgotten, therefore it is not, it has no name, it cannot even c l e a n i t s e l f , (p.215)  no ; A g a i n one assumes that because M a r y has momentarily coped w i t h her d e p r e s s i o n at the end of the n o v e l , she w i l l not, in f a c t , become permanently d i s t u r b e d . The technique is s l i g h t l y altered i n The Feast of L u p e r c a l when D e v i n e sees in the l o v i n g behaviour of a young couple in a bar both what he expects to enjoy ("He had a right to l i v e too.") and what he has never enjoyed ( " Y e s , that was what he had m i s s e d up to n o w . " ) , (p.125) A n d , of c o u r s e , i n F e r g u s , the technique is completely r e v e r s e d .  Fergus  1  attention is focused on the p a s t , and therefore, instead of seeing a character who is the image of his p o s s i b l e future, Fergus imagines his younger self who takes his. place among Fergus other ghosts: 1  F e r g u s , his eyes c l e a r i n g , turned to peer, startled by the familiar i n that v o i c e . In the center of the room, p a l e , s k i n n y , a t h i c k l o c k of hair f a l l i n g over his right e y e , l o o k i n g young and f o o l i s h in an i l l - a d v i s e d suit of cheap Prince of W a l e s c h e c k s , w i t h a b a d l y t i e d poka-dot bow tie and a straight-stemmed pipe w h i c h he h e l d , l i k e a c h i l d p l a y i n g a detective in a s c h o o l p l a y , the familiar of Fergus' first passport photograph pointed at Fergus, as though.indicating to the others i n the room the man he w o u l d one day become, (p.8'8) Very l i t t l e mutual admiration is exchanged by the two versions of Fergus Fadden.  H i s younger self is disgusted that F e r g u s , at the age of t h i r t y - n i n e ,  has not a c c o m p l i s h e d more, and that no one can guarantee that his w r i t i n g s w i l l be read in fifty y e a r s . posturing.  Fergus finds his younger self c h i l d i s h , and  He stares w i t h r e v u l s i o n at "this greedy young s m o k e r , " and  s i n c e Fergus has been ordered by his doctor not to smoke, he even considers reprimanding h i m . Fergus' younger self i s , however, a l e s s o n to him that  V.  — the past cannot be undone.  Ill —  The technique of introducing a p o s s i b l e alternate  image to the central character is double-edged i n Fergus where the alternate image is his o w n . Fergus r e a l i z e s that at present he has not l i v e d up to the expectations he formed as a younger man, and he a l s o sees that from his present point of v i e w , his past life is not a d m i r a b l e . In M o o r e ' s other n o v e l s , the technique is a simple yet effective way of bodying forth the hopes and fears of the protagonists in the most r e a l i s t i c and c o n v i n c i n g manner p o s s i b l e — the image of another p e r s o n .  This technique along w i t h the mirror image,  the d e t a i l e d d e s c r i p t i o n of c l o t h i n g , the i n c l u s i o n of the denuding image, and the v i v i d d e p i c t i o n of dreams constitutes the s e v e r a l artful w a y s i n w h i c h Moore v i s u a l i z e s his protagonists both p h y s i c a l l y and p s y c h o l o g i c a l l y . The v i s u a l i z a t i o n of the other aspects of each novel — the interior and exterior s e t t i n g s , the atmosphere, the symbolic s c e n e s — is not as open to c a t e g o r i z a t i o n of technique as the d e p i c t i o n of the main character.  Each  novel is a v i s u a l entity w h i c h depends on the s p e c i a l nature of the i n d i v i d u a l protagonist whose character dominates events and their outcome.  The r e m a i n -  ing i m a g i s t i c techniques must therefore be d i s c u s s e d n o v e l by n o v e l . M a n y c r i t i c s have commented on the pervading gloom of Tudith Hearne w h i c h they attribute to M o o r e ' s v i s i o n of Belfast.'''''' Outside the designated centre of the c i t y w h i c h is B e l f a s t ' s ugly white C i t y H a l l , writes M o o r e , . . .everything that was Belfast came into f o c u s . The n e w s vendors c a l l i n g out the great events of the world i n f l a t , u n interested U l s t e r v o i c e s ; the drab facades of the b u i l d i n g s grouped around the Square, proclaiming the virtues of trade, hard d e a l i n g and Presbyterian r i g h t e o u s n e s s . The order, the n e a t n e s s , the f l o o d l i t cenotaph, a white respectable phallus planted i n a s i n k i n g Irish b o g . The Protestant dearth of g a i e t y ,  112 the Protestant surfeit of order, the dour U l s t e r burghers w a l k i n g proudly among these monuments to their m e d i o c r i t y , (p.90) Add to this d e s c r i p t i o n of the c i t y , the dinginess of i n d i v i d u a l places such as M i s s Hearne's shabby boarding house on a u n i v e r s i t y bywater (like M i s s Hearne, herself, once accustomed to a more genteel e x i s t e n c e ) , the grey facade of S t . F i n b a r ' s , the ugly brick p a v i l i o n s w h i c h stretch out " l i k e c r u c i f i e d arms" from Earnscliffe Home, (p. 188) and the i n d i v i d u a l nastiness of s u c h Belfast c i t i z e n s as M r s . R i c e , M r s . Brannon, M i s s F r i e l , sundry s u r l y w a i t r e s s e s , even Father Q u i g l e y , and the sordid picture of life i n Judith Hearne's Belfast is c o m p l e t e . The importance of this grim atmosphere and setting i s , as H a l D a h l i e e x p l a i n s , that M i s s Hearne cannot escape i t . . D a h l i e refers to the c l i m a x of Judith Hearne's a n t i c i p a t i o n w h i c h occurs as she is w a i t i n g w i t h James Madden, not so much for a bus home, as to go off to something better.  "But, " writes D a h l i e , "there are no buses  out of Belfast for the Judith Hearnes of that w o r l d , so effectively are they 12 l o c k e d w i t h i n its u n y i e l d i n g c o n f i n e s . "  In the d i s m a l settings w h i c h  Judith Hearne comes to c a l l home, her only c o n s i s t e n t comfort comes from two representations of people — a photograph of her aunt and a coloured oleograph of the Sacred H e a r t .  In her l o n e l i n e s s , Judith Hearne invests  these images w i t h l i f e , and although their eyes often seem to look at her w i t h sorrow or reproof at her behaviour, their images, at l e a s t , are f a m i l i a r . The repeated images of e y e s , as John Stedmond points out, provide 14 " i n Joycean f a s h i o n , a unifying  leLtmotif running through the n o v e l . "  This pattern of imagery is most appropriate s i n c e Judith Hearne is learning  -  113  to see the d i s c r e p a n c y between i l l u s i o n and r e a l i t y . M o r e o v e r , at the c l i m a x of the n o v e l , Judith Hearne, who is afraid that her r e l i g i o u s b e l i e f s have no b a s i s , demands v i s u a l proof of G o d ' s e x i s t e n c e .  "What she r e c e i v e s , " 15  w r i t e s Stedmond, "is a r e v e l a t i o n of her human plight i n a l l its s o r d i d n e s s . " Just as s i g n i f i c a n t i n terms of s e e i n g is the counterplay of dark and l i g h t imagery in the n o v e l .  Judith Hearne feels comforted and secure i n  the darkness, where she is able to nurse her i l l u s i o n s without the disturbance of l i g h t w h i c h is here a s s o c i a t e d w i t h r e v e l a t i o n s of truth.  At night she  feels that the photograph of her Aunt D ' A r c y watches over her, but in "the frozen l i g h t " of the following morning, Aunt D ' A r c y is once again the t y r a n n i c a l r e l a t i v e who says good day " i n s i l v e r and s e p i a - t o n e d a r r o g a n c e . " (p.19) S i m i l a r l y , Judith Hearne enjoys romantic fantasies under the cover of darkness at the cinema^;, (p. 85) and she finds herself at peace in the o b s c u r i t y of her church:  "This q u i e t , this g l o o m , this immense r e p o s e , soothed M i s s Hearne  as she stood in the deep shadows at the back of the c h u r c h . " (p.122)  Again  and a g a i n , however, a sudden b l a z e of l i g h t signifies the end of a d e l u s i o n for her.  W h e n she returns home through the night streets of Belfast w i t h  James M a d d e n , she is f u l l of unfounded hopes for their future together. "But as he opened the door of the house i n Camden Street, her pleasant thoughts were stopped by a light w h i c h f l a s h e d bright in the h a l l . " (p.91) Judith Hearne's ensuing conversation w i t h M r s . R i c e , after she has first fled to the darkness of the s c u l l e r y to a v o i d the d i s t r e s s i n g sight of Bernie R i c e , h a l f - d r e s s e d , brings to l i g h t her first major d i s i l l u s i o n about M a d d e n . And a g a i n , as M i s s Hearne prepares t o make a general c o n f e s s i o n to Father Q u i g l e y , she is certain that he w i l l help her.  Her c e r t a i n t y , however, is  114 shattered w h e n , " P l o c k !  -  Light f i l l e d the dark box as he s l i d the wooden  door a s i d e , " and Father Q u i g l e y begins her c o n f e s s i o n by reprimanding her and t o t a l l y f a i l i n g to understand the urgency of her d e s p e r a t i o n , (p. 170) Judith Hearne's s e l f - d e l u s i o n s often l e a d her to misinterpret "the l i g h t " for her own purposes, to see it as representing something it is n o t . She overestimates a sudden burst of sunlight i n church as a s i g n from G o d , (p.66) as later she interprets a near a c c i d e n t ("A c a r , headlights l i k e y e l l o w angrey e y e s , brakes s c r e e c h i n g i n r a g e . " ) as a warning from G o d . (p.126) She forms an incorrect impression of Father Q u i g l e y ' s a b i l i t i e s when his white and gold vestments made him appear to shine out i n the dark c h u r c h , (p.62) And most deceptive of a l l , she b e l i e v e s that the r e d - g o l d glow from the s m a l l light of the hanging s a c r i s t y lamp s i g n i f i e s that G o d e x i s t s i n the t a b e r n a c l e . (p.122) W h e n she makes a direct a s s a u l t on the tabernacle to e s t a b l i s h G o d ' s presence, she is f i r s t b l i n d e d by a red light and then mercifully carried off "to d a r k n e s s , a l l d a r k n e s s , a l l f o r g e t t i n g . " (p.211) This patterning of dark and light imagery w h i c h merges into the gloom of B e l f a s t , o b v i o u s l y complements the repeated images of e y e s , both of w h i c h elucidate Judith Hearne's a g o n i z i n g growth.in p e r c e p t i o n . A g l o o m - r i d d e n Belfast is again the setting for M o o r e ' s second n o v e l . The Feast of L u p e r c a l .  Judith Hearne's dingy boarding house is  matched here by D e v i n e ' s basement flat w h i c h has iron-barred w i n d o w s , y e l l o w i n g w a l l paper, and stacks of dusty p e r i o d i c a l s , and w h i c h is a l s o l o c a t e d i n a f a i l i n g street, once prosperous, (p. 11) The drab i n s t i t u t i o n , Earnscliffe Home, has its counterpart i n S t . M i c h a n ' s S c h o o l w i t h its long  115 grey facade, its drafty c l a s s r o o m s , and its c o l d bare refectory.  The dour  Protestant r i g i d i t y as s y m b o l i z e d by C i t y H a l l and its environs in Judith Hearne, a l s o affects the atmosphere of L u p e r c a l w h e r e , however, D e v i n e has at l e a s t a momentary urge to shock and even to defy his j o y l e s s fellow citizens: W h e n M r . D e v i n e left the teashop that afternoon, he was f i l l e d w i t h an outrageous j o y . He smiled into the s h o c k e d faces on strangers, w a l k e d across D o n e g a l l Street against a red l i g h t and stopped to k i c k an apple core in the formal flowerbeds of C i t y H a l l . As he boarded his b u s , the conductor d e c i d e d he was l i t u p . (p.50) For the most part, however, M r . D e v i n e ' s travels through Belfast are s t a i d and f o r l o r n .  M o r e o v e r , the dreariness of Belfast is i n t e n s i f i e d i n The F e a s t 16  of L u p e r c a l by the omnipresent r a i n .  If in any scene it is not r a i n i n g ,  then it has.either just stopped or is about to b e g i n . Even the above scene i s q u i c k l y followed by the information that "a c o l d Samp, the beginnings of f o g , misted the houses across the r o a d . " (p.50)  The rain  and bad weather are as inescapable for D e v i n e as the i n i m i c a l establishment w h i c h controls his life i n B e l f a s t . Almost the l a s t remark U n a C l a r k e makes to D e v i n e before her departure i s , "It's going to r a i n . " (p.245)  Following  the numerous other r a i n y scenes i n w h i c h they have met, this apparently off-hand remark a l l u d e s s i g n i f i c a n t l y to the c o l d and d i s m a l environment from w h i c h D e v i n e cannot e s c a p e . L i k e Judith Hearne, D e v i n e a l s o furnishes his l o n e l y " d i g s " w i t h photographs, both r e l i g i o u s and s e c u l a r .  He too imagoes the shock of his  parents who are represented i n a large wedding picture w h i c h is w i t n e s s to U n a ' s unseemly c o n v e r s a t i o n w i t h D e v i n e . (p.142)  He is e q u a l l y abashed  116  -  when his l a n d l a d y ' s daughter surprises him in the act of t a k i n g down his r e l i g i o u s i c o n s , a picture of the D i v i n e Infant of Prague and a reproduction of Guido R e n i ' s Ecce H o m o .  (p.55) This scene is t y p i c a l of many others  such scenes in the n o v e l , the characters of w h i c h are constantly c a t c h i n g each other in flagrante or eavesdropping on supposedly private c o n v e r s a t i o n s . F i r s t Devine overhears C o n n o l l y and Turvey d i s c u s s i n g - h i m in the l a v a t o r y , (p.5)  Then D e v i n e and Heron are overheard by three students hiding i n  the masters' c l o a k r o o m , (pp.85-87) who are i n turn overheard d i s c u s s i n g their daring adventure by Father C r e e l y . (p.96)  Eamon Heron catches D e v i n e s a y i n g  goodnight to Una in the back entry of his home, (p.107) and on a later o c c a s i o n , M a e v e Heron catches U n a c l i m b i n g in the back window early in the morning, (p.158) same morning, p.154)  (She has a l s o been seen l e a v i n g D e v i n e ' s flat on the D e v i n e ' s second stormy interview w i t h Heron is o v e r -  heard by h i s entire c l a s s , (pp.160-61) and thus a s c a n d a l g r o w s .  The gym  master findsigraffitii about D e v and Una in the students' l a v a t o r y , and as he goes to fetch material to remove the i n s u l t , Devine catches three students trying to erase i t . (p.169)  Later Father C r e e l y and the President of S t . M i c h a n ' s  happen to see Tim Heron caning D e v i n e i n the street in front of the President's h o u s e , (p.224) And unbeknownst to everyone, the s c h o o l porter, o l d John H a r b i n s o n , who is o s t e n s i b l y deaf, has been s p y i n g on everyone, a c t i n g as the President's informer on a l l aspect of s c h o o l l i f e , even the actionsC}of the Dean of D i s c i p l i n e , (pp.196-97)  The r e p r e s s i v e atmosphere created by scenes  such as these in w h i c h even photographs have e a r s , makes v i c t i m s of the i n n o c e n t . As D e v i n e e x p l a i n s ,  117 Practiced voluptuaries would have hidden a l l traces of l a s t night, they would have sinned undetected. But she and I , innocents the pair of u s , are found out the first go off. And w h o ' d b e l i e v e u s , if we told the truth? (p.175) There is no doubt that D e v i n e is trapped by the o v e r - v i g i l a n t and s e l f righteous authorities of church and s c h o o l as w e l l as by the inhospitable atmosphere of Belfast i t s e l f , both of w h i c h Moore pictures b r i l l i a n t l y . M o o r e ' s f i n a l image of D e v i n e , in w h i c h his c o n d i t i o n is l i k e n e d to that of a dray horse, i l l u s t r a t e s most powerfully and most p a t h e t i c a l l y D e v i n e ' s s i l e n t subjugation: Beside h i m , in the avenue, a horse and cart w a i t e d i d l e , as their owner offered wood b l o c k s by the bag at a front door across the w a y . The horse's head moved l i k e a mine detector along the gutter, reins s l a c k over the strong b a c k . M r . D e v i n e , w a t c h i n g as Una turned the corner, absently put out his hand and fondled the horse's n e c k . The powerful muscles fluttered at his unexpected touch and the horse swung its head up, l o o k i n g w i l d l y down the avenue in the narrow focus of its b l i n k e r s . Horse and man l o o k e d down the avenue, and there was no one there. The horse, h a r n e s s e d , dumb, lowered its head once more. The man went back into the h o u s e , (p.246) Another powerful image w h i c h s y m b o l i z e s the stern order of D e v i n e ' s w o r l d i s , of c o u r s e , the c a n e . w i t h o u t their canes;  M a s t e r s in The Feast of Lupercal are never  they begin each c l a s s by putting the cane in the trough  of the d e s k , near at h a n d .  Students picture their masters as s t i c k men  wearing mortar boards and c a r r y i n g c a n e s .  The n o v e l contains many scenes  in w h i c h students are c a n e d , of w h i c h by far the most horrifying is Father M c S w i n e y ' s s a d i s t i c flogging of the three boys who overheard D e v i n e and Heron,  (pp. 9 3-96)  Even D e v i n e canes students, (pp. 8, 78 , 207) but h e , at  l e a s t , r e a l i z e s that the cane has l i m i t a t i o n s :  118  -  What use was the medicine though? It was the D e a n ' s m e d i c i n e , the s c h o o l m e d i c i n e , w h i c h made this k i n d of b o y . W h e n he himself had been a pupil at Saint M i c h a n ' s , he had not l o v e d his m a s t e r s . That was the rule of teaching: boys respected the c a n e , the cane was what got results i n h i s d a y , and s t i l l d i d , But if a master showed a w e a k n e s s , he was paid b a c k . (p.163) The cane has yet another symbolic meaning i n The Feast of L u p e r c a l . After D e y m e ' s singular c o n f e s s i o n to Heron — he had not v i o l a t e d U n a because he c o u l d not — H e r o n , an o l d and angry master, i n s t i n c t i v e l y uses the cane on D e v i n e .  D e v i n e sees this c a n i n g not only as evidence  of Heron's uncontrollable temper, but a l s o as a k i n d of e x p i a t i o n . L i k e the barren women of ancient Rome who thought the flogging of the L u p e r c i w o u l d remove the reproach of barrenness from them, D e v i n e feels that Heron's c a n i n g i s \ penance for his failure to make l o v e to U n a . (p.244) Heron's r i t u a l use of the cane on D e v i n e , therefore, points to both the i m p l a c a b i l i t y of the authorities for whom the cane is a l l too apt a symbol and to the power of the same authorities who have rendered D e v i n e incapable of l o v i n g . M o n t r e a l , w h i c h is the setting for The Luck of Ginger C o f f e y , is no more hospitable than the Belfast of M o o r e ' s two earlier n o v e l s . In this n o v e l , it is the snow and c o l d w h i c h typify the c i t y ' s l a c k of cheer and friendliness.  M o s t of the time Ginger considers Canada as "this l a n d ; o f  ice and s n o w , this h e l l on e a r t h , " (p.217) and M o n t r e a l , far from being the "Frenchy" place he e x p e c t e d , strikes him as a cross between American and Russia: The c a r s , the supermarkets, the hoardings; they were just as you saw them in the H o l l y w o o d films . But the people and the snows and the c o l d — that woman p a s s i n g , her head  -  119  -  t i e d up in a b a b u s h k a . . . — w a s n ' t that the r e a l S i b e r i a n stuff? (p.5) After Ginger has spent several d i s a p p o i n t i n g months in C a n a d a , the f i l m e d America he v i e w s at the cinema no longer seems t r u e .  It has nothing to  do w i t h the facts of life " i n a c o l d New W o r l d . " (p.171) G i n g e r ' s d i s i l l u s i o n m e n t w i t h the New W o r l d must stem in part from his experience of the s m a l l apartments and dingy rooms in w h i c h many people l i v e .  The duplex he rents on a shabby street is "dark as l i m b o ,  jerry b u i l t fifty years ago and going off k e e l ever s i n c e . " (pp. 4-5)  His  room at the Y . M . C . A . is tiny and spare, (p.103) V e r o n i c a ' s room, located in a s l u m , is even s m a l l e r , a n d , as V e r n o i c a s a y s , "filthy",  (p.183)  D a v i s ' s room over a c l o t h i n g store is e q u a l l y s m a l l and m i s e r a b l e ,  Billy (p.204)  G i n g e r ' s shock at B i l l y ' s p o v e r t y - s t r i c k e n e x i s t e n c e is i n t e n s i f i e d when he d i s c o v e r s that B i l l y is an I r i s h emigrant l i k e h i m s e l f , who came to America at the age of twenty, " l o o k i n g for the streets that were paved w i t h g o l d . " (p. 205)  But in his o l d age, B i l l y is reduced to l i v i n g on a pension  of forty dollars a month. is a l s o G i n g e r ' s problem.  M o n e y , as G i n g e r ' s fellow proofreaders  devine,  To make G i n g e r ' s l a c k of money as clear as  p o s s i b l e , Moore constantly describes his exact f i n a n c i a l condition in precise dollars and c e n t s .  The novel begins w i t h an image of Ginger  counting out his wordly g o o d s .  "Fifteen D o l l a r s and three c e n t s , " is  the sum Ginger pockets that morning, (p.3) a n d , as he later confesses to V e r o n i c a , they have only eighty dollars left in the b a n k . (p.35) he can i l l afford i t , Ginger spends fifty cents on candy for M i c h e l ,  Although (p.6)  for he c o u l d not disappoint h i m . W h e n he has only "nine dollars between  120 him and a l l harm, he gives one to Paulie for s k a t i n g , (p.97)  Ginger's  generosity to c h i l d r e n i l l u s t r a t e s his off-hand c o n f e s s i o n that he is "no great hand w i t h money. "(p.lO)But he soon r e a l i z e s the importance of money for him: M o n e y , oh those proofreaders were r i g h t . M o n e y made this world go round. If he had enough money Veronica w o u l d n ' t be l e a v i n g h i m . If he had enough money he c o u l d have wooed Paulie to come w i t h h i m , promised a housekeeper, promised her t r e a t s . M o n e y , that was Our S a v i o u r . Not l o v e , mind y o u , not good i n t e n t i o n s , not honesty nor truth. Because if you c o u l d n ' t make money, they would leave y o u , w i f e , c h i l d , friends, everyone., (p.97) When Veronica does move away w i t h P a u l i e , she leaves Ginger a ten dollar . b i l l but no message,  (p.100) and s o , after he has paid the rent at the Y . M . C .  A . , Ginger is left w i t h " e x a c t l y seven dollars and f o r t y - f i v e cents u n t i l his first pay d a y . " (p.103) This amount dwindles to nothing w e l l before pay d a y , and Ginger has to ask his employer for an a d v a n c e .  This conversation leads  to the best offer of employment Ginger ever r e c e i v e s (" ' I ' l l make you my personal a s s i s t a n t at ninety bucks a w e e k . ' "p.198), w h i c h Ginger f o o l i s h l y turns down because he dreams of becoming a reporter.  When Ginger is not  made a reporter, he r e a l i z e s that a l l his dreams are i l l - f o u n d e d and that he w i l l probably die in "humble c i r c s . " (p.243) " M o n e y , " the proofreaders told him,  "is the C a n a d i a n way to i m m o r t a l i t y , " (p.70) and G i n g e r , as M o o r e ' s  d e t a i l e d accounting graphically, i l l u s t r a t e s , f a i l s to make i t . The figure Ginger cuts of a rushing energetic man c e r t a i n l y suggests that Ginger does try to s u c c e e d in the New W o r l d .  Although his problems  prompt him to identify w i t h " C r i p p l e M a t e " (pp .15 , 271,117,119) i n the headlines of a s e n s a t i o n a l news story, the image Ginger presents hurrying through the streets of M o n t r e a l is a b l e - b o d i e d and v i g o u r o u s .  Ginger is  121 only c r i p p l e d p s y c h i c a l l y by his.dream v i s i o n s of the future.  In r e a l l i f e ,  Ginger shanks' mares i t , he h u r r i e s , he r u n s , he rushes "from p i l l a r to p o s t , " (p.147) as he works at two f u l l - t i m e jobs . To G i n g e r , l i f e is a constant struggle in w h i c h he is "running u p h i l l , his hope i n his mouth, his shins k i c k e d by people w i t h no faith i n h i m . " (p.39)  Once at the Y . M . C . A .  ("For the first time i n fifteen y e a r s , he had stopped r u n n i n g , " p p . 103-4), and again on the courthouse steps after his t r i a l ("No longer was he a man running u p h i l l against hope, . . . " p . 2 3 5 ) , Ginger has some r e s p i t e .  And by  the end of the n o v e l , Ginger feels he has changed into "someone who had stopped running u p h i l l i n hopes . " (p.241) Yet it is hard to imagine his jaunty figure s t i l l , so s u c c e s s f u l l y has Moore portrayed G i n g e r ' s S i s y p h u s l i k e efforts to make money, "the root of a l l good in C a n a d a . " (p. 70) If M o n t r e a l is " h e l l on eath" to Ginger C o f f e y , New York is l i m b o , a c c o r d i n g to M r s . Tierney in A n Answer from L i m b o . M r s . Tierney has a dream v i s i o n of limbo as "a quiet place l i k e an airport lounge w i t h green plants that were not r e a l and food on a buffet that was not r e a l f o o d . " (p.212) This dream o b v i o u s l y r e c a l l s M r s . T i e r n e y ' s a r r i v a l in New York when e v e r y thing appears as futuristic to her as an H . G . W e l l s film (p.33) and her v i s i t to a cafeteria i n Times Square w i t h Frank F i n n e r t y , her c o u s i n : The cafeteria was a i r - c o n d i t i o n e d and had rows of green plants w h i c h were not plants and tables and chairs w h i c h seemed to be made of wood but were some p l a s t i c stuff. Finnerty t o l d her he often ate here. The food, he s a i d , was f i r s t - c l a s s . But as she bit into the cake she suffered a familiar disappointment. American food was for show, not for t a s t e . L i k e the false wooden tables and the plants w h i c h were not p l a n t s , it was as though no one remembered what the r e a l thing had been l i k e . (p. 183)  122 Life i n New York implies a l i m b o - l i k e state of o b l i v i o n to M r s . Tierney who is a p p a l l e d by the c i t y ' s inhuman a s p e c t s .  Even London she feels is  human "compared w i t h this huddle of great upended c a r t o n s , a man was l i k e a fly beside t h e m . " (p.37)  Brendan, however, feels at home i n New Y o r k .  He knows it is "this w o r l d he cares about, this world of moving s t a i r c a s e s , e l e c t r i c e y e s , efficient l o u d s p e a k e r s . " (p. 30) In M r s . T i e r n e y ' s o p i n i o n , the A m e r i c a n i z e d Brendan is w e l l on his way to l o s i n g his s o u l . Another aspect of the s e t t i n g w h i c h images p r e c i s e l y the differences in personality of the three main characters is the room Jane prepares, for M r s . Tierney i n their apartment.  Jane is an artist (her enormous paintings  of potato-headed creatures a s t o n i s h M r s . , T i e r n e y , p.45) who is proud of having her own s t y l e ;  "it was h e r . " (p.25)  She feels creative and i n s p i r e d  as she sets about redecorating the spare room for Brendan's mother: The thing to do was make it seem larger than it was by creating a f e e l i n g of space and l i g h t . . . .She painted the w a l l s w h i t e . She bought a Japanese bamboo b l i n d on Fourth Street, a s i n g l e unboxed c o n t i n e n t a l bed (where else but M a c y ' s ? ) , a rectangular mirror from a Second Avenue junkyard and a s m a l l , unpainted d r e s s i n g table and chair from B l o o m i n g d a l e ' s . Over the b e d , a N o g u c h i r i c e - p a p e r l a m p , and for color and contrast a gay red cotton bedthrow w i t h b l a c k C h i n e s e c h a r a c cters on it and just one print, a l i t t l e H o k u s a i . (p.23) Jane is p l e a s e d that the r e s u l t b e s i d e s being attractive and f u n c t i o n a l , is c h e a p .  Brendan sees at once that the room, w h i c h l a c k s even a comfortable  arm c h a i r , w i l l not suit his e l d e r l y , I r i s h mother: When I saw that room, Japanned by Jane, I began to feel a f r a i d . Anyone who can c o n c e i v e of that Zen shrine as suitable for my mother w i l l never understand my mother's w o r l d , (p.26)  123 Brendan does understand his mother's w o r l d , but he makes no effort t c f j i e l p his mother adjust to a new w o r l d .  N a t u r a l l y , she is  a p p a l l e d by the s m a l l " h o s p i t a l w a r d " a s s i g n e d her. (p.46) whole flat i s the same:  modern, skimpy j c h e a p .  To her, their  M r s . . Tierney concludes  that Brendan and Jane must be short of money. Yet later o n , when she investigates their p o s s e s s i o n s , she r e v i s e s this o p i n i o n .  They are not  short of money, just compassion: There in the bedroom, l o o k i n g at the c l o s e t s stuffed t i g h t , the jammed drawers. . . , M r s . T i e r n e y felt a bitterness r i s e in her; they were not hard up at a l l ; they d i d not go wanting for one b l e s s e d t h i n g . She thought of the l i t t l e bungalow on Dromore Estates; she thought of the s a v i n g it w o u l d cost her to buy one pair of b l a c k shoes... . O h , and when she remembered the presents these ones had sent h e r : . . . ; when she remembered that, it was hard to be fond of them. (p.68) Brendan never v i e w s his s i t u a t i o n through his mother's e y e s , for his own are directed upward to the s u c c e s s f u l world of the famous w r i t e r , S o l S i l v e r . " W h y , " Brendan wonders in S i l v e r ' s opulent apartment, e v e r y t h i n g , w h i l e I have nothing? " (p.296)  "should he have  The imagery of the various s e t -  tings i l l u s t r a t e s that Brendan's ambitions have made him s e l f i s h l y obliviofrs to his mother's p l i g h t , w h i l e Jane is simply i n s e n s i t i v e . S e v e r a l other images point to the dehumanizing effect of their environment and egocentric way of life on Brendan and Jane.  After Jane  has been rejected b y V i t o , she c l e a r l y sees an image for herself in the garbage being churned up in the huge maw of a s a n i t a t i o n t r u c k . ("Things no longer wanted were t o s s e d o u t . " p.245,) The inhumanity of her comparison  124 of herself to garbage does not occur to her.  Nor does Brendan.hesitate  to compare himself and Jane to two cockroaches stranded in a b a s i n : " . . . lost, b l i n d e d , two s m a l l , stupid creatures, terrified by this brightness into w h i c h they had blundered, this white stark world from w h i c h they might never e s c a p e . " (p. 266)  In both images, Brendan and Jane r e v e a l a l o s s  of human f e e l i n g for themselves w h i c h is a l l the more pathetic for b e i n g unconscious.  Brendan, however, has gone a step further i n this r e v e r s a l  of human attributes, for he pictures his books as his "true c h i l d r e n , " in apparent contrast to his a c t u a l o f f s p r i n g , L i s a and L i a m . (p.194)  When  Brendan's editor suggests that his n o v e l needs some r e v i s i o n , Brendan feels as if a spinster has just t o l d him his c h i l d is deformed and needs surgery to the eye and n o s e . (p.282)  These images, in w h i c h people are  compared to garbage or insects w h i l e books are l i k e n e d to people, i l l u s trate the truth of M r s , T i e r n e y ' s judgment of both Brendan and Jane. Because they l i v e for their own s e l f i s h d e s i r e s , they have l o s t the c a p a c i t y for a l t r u i s t i c love w h i c h she regards as a defining human t r a i t . In h e ' r v i e w , the limbo w h i c h is New York has already c l a i m e d their souls.  M r s . Tierney p a s s e s the same judgment on Frank F i n n e r t y , and  the image w i t h w h i c h she compares htfn a p p l i e s e q u a l l y w e l l to Brendan and Jane: On a huge b i l l b o a r d , a painted face advertised C a m e l c i g a r e t t e s . Every five s e c o n d s , through the hole of its mouth, a l a r g e , w a v e r i n g smoke r i n g floated across the square. L i k e Frank, the b i l l b o a r d face stared out through eyes that d i d not s e e , it blew out smoke, simulating l i f e . It felt n o t h i n g . It w o u l d go on b l o w i n g smoke u n t i l the day w h e n , d i r t y , showing signs of age, it was pasfed oyer and r e p l a c e d by a new b i l l b o a r d f a c e , w h i c h , i n turn w o u l d simulate life but feel n o t h i n g . Frank l i v e d for his own s e l f . W a s that l i f e ? (pp. 185-86)  125 Such images of New York and New Yorkers comprise most of the imagery of A n Answer from Limbo w h i c h , particularly insofar as it is seen through the innocent eyes of the o u t s i d e r , M r s . T i e r n e y , provides a v i v i d commentary on the dehumanized life of the characters of the n o v e l . Mrs. Tierney is at once an innocent abroad and a representative of an orthodox C a t h o l i c tradition w h i c h , to G a v i n Burke in The Emperor of I c e Cream , implies a corrupt a u t h o r i t a r i a n i s m .  G a v i n is in revolt against this  establishment, t y p i f i e d for him by the t r a d i t i o n a l nuns' parlour in the C a t h o l i c h o s p i t a l where G a v i n waits: for S a l l y Shannon, a student n u r s e . A; date on a photograph of the m e d i c a l staff w h i c h hangs in this room makes G a v i n aware that the room has not changed s i n c e 1930, nor ever w i l l change despite what happens in the outside world: Nothing w o u l d c h a n g e . The care of this room would continue, as w o u l d the durnal dirge of M a s s e s a l l over the l a n d , the endless l i t a n i e s of evening d e v o t i o n s , the annual pilgrimages to holy s h r i n e s , the frozen r i t u a l of Irish C a t h o l i c i s m perpetuating i t s e l f in s e c u l a , seculorurg. . .Even H i t l e r ' s v i c t o r y would not alter this room. Armageddon would bypass Ireland; a l l would remain s t i l l in this land of his forefathers, (p.136) As G a v i n makes these depressing r e f l e c t i o n s , he is momentarily c o n v i n c e d of the powerful immutability of the orthodox C a t h o l i c a u t h o r i t i e s . G a v i n is to d i s c o v e r , however, that even the influence of the authorities can be altered as the p a r a l l e l image of G a v i n ' s f a m i l y ' s s i t t i n g room i n d i c a t e s .  G a v i n feels that this room, w h i c h has remained unchanged  s i n c e his c h i l d h o o d , is part of him'because he has grown up in i t . (p.9) But when G a v i n returns to this s i t t i n g room after Belfast has been bombed and his house, condemned, he finds a difference i n the " l o o k i n g - g l a s s R o o m . "  L i k e G a v i n , h i m s e l f , the room has been changed at l a s t by the w a r . (p.248) In f a c t , G a v i n a c t u a l l y fears his condemned house from w h i c h a l l life has fled.  Exhausted after a day of coffining the dead, G a v i n h a l l u c i n a t e s the  image of corpses in the empty s i t t i n g room:  "The dead, their faces dirty  and p a l e , dried blood on their l i p s , their bowels l o o s e in the final s p a s m , sat<; on his mother's sofas and c h a i r s , moved in the shadows, l a y out on the l a n d i n g in a stiff jumble of arms and l e g s . " (p. 249) In the middle of G a v i n ' s lurid i m a g i n i n g s , his father arrives in the house l o o k i n g for G a v i n . The i m p l i c a t i o n of this scene is clear: the s i t t i n g room has changed, G a v i n has changed and grown up, w h i l e "his father was the c h i l d now; his father's world was d e a d . " (p.250) G a v i n has been l o o k i n g forward to the destruction of his father's world s i n c e the beginning of the n o v e l .  H i s a n t i c i p a t i o n of this event e x -  plains his inappropriate glee as the bombing of Belfast b e g i n s , in what",-, is one of the most memorable scenes of the n o v e l .  From the roof of the  N u r s e s ' Home where they have been posted to look for i n c e n d i a r i e s , G a v i n and Freddy have a clear f i r e - l i t v i e w of the c i t y w h i c h is bursting into flames a l l around them.  G a v i n , who is f i l l e d w i t h a tumult of j o y , dances  a Cherokee war dance, and they both shout out the names of people and institutions they would l i k e to see destroyed: "Blow up a few c a p i t a l i s t s , " Freddy shouted, s u d d e n l y . "And the Bishop of Down and C o n n o r , " G a v i n y e l l e d . "And Stormont C a s l e and Lord C a r s o n ' s statue and the houses of bloody P a r l i a m e n t . " "Not w i t h a whimper, but a b a n g . " (p.201)  v  -  127  -  At l a s t , the prediction of a future holocaust by poets such as T . S . E l i o t has come true. Although G a v i n and Freddy apparently welcome the war in this s c e n e , they are later to r e a l i z e its terrible human t o l l w h i c h they e x p e r i e n c e , as no one e l s e d o e s , when they coffin the dead on the f o l l o w i n g d a y .  During  the night, G a v i n and Freddy help w i t h the injured and the d y i n g , but they are s t i l l not prepared for the horrific r e a l i t y of numberless corpses: The dead he had seen l a s t night had not stiffened into rigor mortis and seemed l i k e a c t o r s , shamming death. But now, in the stink of human excrement, in the a c r i d s m e l l of d i s i n fectant, these dead were heaped, body on b o d y , flung arm, t w i s t e d feet, open mouth, staring e y e s , o l d men on top of young women, a c h i l d dying on a policeman's b a c k , . . . . Forbidding and c l u m s y , the dead cluttered the morgue room from floor to c e i l i n g , seeming to stage some mass l i e - d o w n against the l i v i n g men who now faced them in the doorway, (p.231) As G a v i n and Freddy b e g i n their g r i s l y work w i t h the body of a m i l l g i r l in her t w e n t i e s , Freddy a l l u d e s to the ludicrous idea that this war, is a good idea because it means that c a p i t a l i s t s k i l l c a p i t a l i s t s . They both r e a l i z e that the bombs do not d i s c r i m i n a t e , that both the mighty whose power they hoped to see destroyed and the weak have become v i c t i m s .  Moore's vivid  portrayal of the horrors of the war w h i c h brings G a v i n to a sudden adulthood, makes G a v i n ' s change in character t o t a l l y b e l i e v a b l e . The holocaust w h i c h envelops Belfast i s seen e n t i r e l y in terms of G a v i n ' s experience of i t .  Other people's experiences are mentioned only  if G a v i n hears about them. . In I Am M a r y D u n n e , the whole novel is not only seen from M a r y ' s point of v i e w , but pictured by her as w e l l .  The n o v e l i s , as  she s a y s , her own " f a l s e , edited l i t t l e m o v i e , " (p.4) and l i k e a f i l m , it  -  128  -  uses many flashbacks and a stop frame technique w h i c h is a p a r t i c u l a r l y v i v i d method of summing up whole episodes i n M a r y ' s l i f e .  M a r y Dunne's 17  language, w h i c h reflects the worlds of theatre and c i n e m a , highly v i s u a l cast of m i n d .  points to her  She herself describes the stop frame technique  during her dinner w i t h Ernie Truelove: There, in the dining room, amid the wreck of dinner, g l a s s e s , d i s h e s , wine b o t t l e s , there s e t t l e d on a l l three of us an instant o f total i m m o b i l i t y , as though the film of our l i v e s had jammed. W e sat, frozen in stop frame u n t i l suddenly E r n i e ' s head jerked f o r w a r d . . .{p.197) M a r y uses the s i n g l e image of the stop frame to describe her c h i l d h o o d r e l a t i o n s h i p w i t h her mother ("I can remember s c o l d i n g my d o l l in your v o i c e , standing b e s i d e you in the k i t c h e n , learning to bake johnny cakes the way Mama d i d . " p.11), and w i t h her brother ("I know him as my b i g brother, Bat, who carried me on his shoulders up a c l i f f face in the Bay of Fundy, twentyfive years a g o . " p . 13) The s i n g l e image is a l s o an effective way of c h a r a c t e r i z i n g people s u c h as M a r y ' s first husband, Jimmy ("When I am an o l d woman, Jimmy w i l l remain unchanged for me, a t w e n t y - o n e - y e a r - o l d boy w i t h a b i g Adam's a p p l e , laughing w i t h a nervous bark, i n h a l i n g his cigarettes the wrong way and coughing as though he w i l l c h o k e . " .up.16). M o s t of M a r y Dunne's r e c o l l e c t i o n s involve more than a s i n g l e image and a r e , as she points out, more l i k e a play or a f i l m . (p.24)  In  either c a s e , her memories are i n t e n s e l y v i s u a l , and very often the stimulus for a memory is v i s u a l as w e l l . . The sight of M r . Peters fingering the t a s s e l on a sherry bottle brings back the memory of Nancy Almond's party where  129 he was a bartender;  -  (p.24) a glimpse of a w a i t e r ' s suspenders s t r a i n i n g  against the bulge of his t h i c k e n i n g m i d d l e - a g e d back reminds M a r y of a Shriners' Parade in M o n t r e a l when Hat c o u l d not comprehend her tears for"those failures in f o o l i s h hats;" (pp. ,,78-79)  the face of a l i t t l e Puerto  Rican g i r l r e c a l l s the three M e x i c a n girls who stared her into the "Juarez ' dooms" (pp. 105-8). At other t i m e s , the stimulus w h i c h r e v i v e s memories is verbal.  Janice's crueUreproach, "Look what you d i d to h i m , " reminds M a r y  of the night she left Hat B e l l , a memory she is compelled to r e l i v e once it enters her m i n d . (p.98)  The scene ends w i t h M a r y ' s l a s t sight of Hat  w h i c h she describes e x a c t l y as if a camera were f i l m i n g this dramatic finale of her second marriage: The l a s t time I ever saw Hat B e l l he was standing i n the bare k i t c h e n of that house he had hoped to b u y . H e ' d taken a g l a s s from the cupboard above him and was pouring S c o t c h into the g l a s s . He must have heard me open the front door, but he d i d not look u p . He r a i s e d the g l a s s . He drank. I l e f t . (p. 104) S i m i l a r l y , when M a r y wonders whether Terence wants her to go to the m o v i e s , the w o r d , " m o v i e s , " reminds her of her first husband, Jimmy Phelan ( " M o v i e s . Jimmy was the one who started me g o i n g : . . . . " p . 116), their elopement from Nova S c o t i a w i t h the idiot they were to drive to Toronto, their life in Toronto at the Blodgett's rooming house and later in M a c k i e ' s m a n s i o n . Both of M a r y ' s accounts of her past marriages have a cinematic q u a l i t y , not only because each is a complete-and dramatic narrative on its o w n , but a l s o because of the flow of images w h i c h one u s u a l l y a s s o c i a t e s w i t h films.  M a r y ' s v i s u a l a s s o c i a t i o n s w i t h both images and language r e s u l t  130 in a continuum of imagery w h i c h complements the  stream-of-consciousness  technique of the novel i t s e l f . . In a t y p i c a l p a s s a g e , she makes an easy transition from brooding on an idea to resuming her narrative of the day by means of a s s o c i a t i o n s : Hat in Kingston under a s t o n e . M y father's grave in the snow in the m i l i t a r y cemetery in H a l i f a x , the . l i t t l e stone cross so packed around w i t h soft wet snow that it no longer was a cross but a p h a l l u s . O l d D a n D u n n e . "We w i l l a l l die soon enough without us d w e l l i n g on i t , " my Aunt M a g g i e used to s a y . She was my father's older s i s t e r and l i k e o l d Dan Dunne she too is d e a d . I remember that she had a mustache. And that she was very t a l l , nearly as t a l l as o l d M r s . D o w s o n , Janice's mother. It's funny, I haven't thought about Janice s i n c e we s a i d good-by t o d a y . She phoned this morning at the very moment I went out into t h e h a l l , . .J[p,. 35) -  Thus the narrative moves w i t h the flow of a s s o c i a t e d images e x a c t l y l i k e 18 a film w i t h , as one c r i t i c s a y s , "no seams s h o w i n g . " M a r y Dunne's r e c o l l e c t i o n s of the past are interwoven w i t h scenes from a single day in the present for w h i c h the setting is New Y o r k .  Her  New York is c o n s i d e r a b l y different from M r s . Tierney's New York in A n Answer from L i m b o .  More l i k e Brendan Tierney in her appreciation of  the modern, M a r y Dunne feels at home in New Y o r k , and she r e a l i z e s that she w o u l d not l i k e to exchange places w i t h friends from the p r o v i n c e s , " s t i l l coming down to New York, l i k e J a n i c e , a k i d to a p a r t y . " (p.38) M a r y is o b v i o u s l y able to enjoy the excitement of New York w i t h its elegant beauty s a l o n s , (p.5) fashionable plays (p.39) and important art e x h i b i t i o n s at the Museum of Modern Art and the Guggenheim, (p.5) expensive French restaurants, (p.40) C e n t r a l Park, (pp.84-94) and M a r y ' s own tastefully furnished apartment w h i c h she describes in some d e t a i l to  131  -  a potential l e s s e e , (pp.19-23) New York a l s o means it inhabitants to M a r y , p r i n c i p a l l y her s u c c e s s f u l husband, (" 'You mean the Terence L a v e r y , the B r i t i s h p l a y w r i g h t , that o n e ?  1  "p.113) but a l s o composers and choreo-  graphers who work w i t h her husband, polite doormen, and even t a l k a t i v e t a x i d r i v e r s . M a r y , however, a l s o has o c c a s i o n to feel threatened by the people she encounters.  During the s i n g l e day she d e s c r i b e s , four men whose  approaches vary from the blatantly obscene to the apparently inadvertent, make suggestive gestures or remarks to her. ( p p . 7 , 4 9 , 8 3 , 1 0 0 )  She is  a l s o , l i k e most New Y o r k e r s , terrified of b u r g l a r s . . The atmosphere of M a r y 19 Dunne's New York, the tension of w h i c h she both reflects and encompasses  t  is at once more e x h i l a r a t i n g and more threatening than the limbo d e s c r i b e d by M r s . T i e r n e y . New York as the p r i n c i p a l setting provides unifying background images to I Am M a r y Dunne w h i c h is v i s u a l l y very c o m p l e x . Another unifying motif of images r e s u l t s from M a r y ' s exact d e s c r i p t i o n of food and d r i n k s , and e s p e c i a l l y , as Richard B . Sale points out, "the d i s t a s t e f u l drinking of Bloody M a r y s " ( p p . 2 4 , 3 3 , 3 8 , 4 1 , 4 2 , 4 3 , 4 6 , 4 8 , 4 9 , 5 0 , 6 3 ) w h i c h stresses the 20 p s y c h o l o g i c a l and r e l i g i o u s complexity of M a r y Dunne's char acter .  In  a d d i t i o n , M a r y Dunne catalogues w i t h . c o n s i d e r a b l e p r e c i s i o n meals w i t h M a c k i e M c l v e r , (pp.137-142) c o c k t a i l s w i t h Hat B e l l , (p. 70) luncheon w i t h J a n i c e , (p.44) and the dinner she serves Ernie T r u e l o v e , w h o , i n spite of his d i s c l a i m e r , does behave l i k e "a professional h i c k , " (p.169) b r a y i n g over the c a v i a r (" 'Let me say i t ' s not something w h i c h I've had enough of to a l l o w me to become t i r e d of i t .  1  "p.171)  and the red-currant j e l l y served  -  132  w i t h lamb (" ' . . .1 prefer mint j e l l y . with lamb.' "p.181).  That's the C a n a d i a n thing to have  The consumption of s o p h i s t i c a t e d foods provides  a most t e l l i n g image of M a r y Dunne's present l i f e in New Y o r k , just as her r e c o l l e c t i o n of dinners of C a m p b e l l ' s soup and H e i n z spaghetti sums up an episode of her p a s t . (p.137) Although M a r y Dunne refers to her story as her own " f a l s e , edited l i t t l e m o v i e , " the precise imagery of the people, o b j e c t s , events, and settings w h i c h compose her f i l m - l i k e account is more reminiscent of the C i n e m a verite of the foreign films her husband admires. Brian M o o r e ' s seventh novel., F e r g u s , a l s o invites comparison 21 w i t h f i l m s , e s p e c i a l l y surreal films l i k e F e l l i n i ' s "Juliet of the S p i r i t s . " The surrealism of Fergus results p r i n c i p a l l y from the intrusion of the ghosts whom Fergus entertains not o n l y when he is alone but a l s o in the company of other people who are o b l i v i o u s to their appearance. 22 of Fergus' h a l l u c i n a t i o n s novel.  The patent r e a l i t y  only increases the s u r r e a l i s t i c quality of the  Yet the ghosts are at their most bizarre in the final portion of the  novel^during a moonlight p i c n i c on the b e a c h when they behave l i k e actors i n an avant-garde play (p.185) or mass together in an anonymous and threatening mob.  Later the mob moves over the enchanted  sandbanks,  "seeming l e s s l i k e a desert caravan than a c o l l e c t i o n of s m a l l beach creatures, scurrying sandpipers, perhaps, or now, becoming smaller as he w a t c h e d , a dark swarm of i n s e c t s , s m a l l e r , s m a l l e r , then, at l a s t , d i s a p ppearing around the headland of Point D u m e . " (p.221)  -  133  -  One would expect the surrealism of the ghost episodes to stand i n contrast to scenes from the " r e a l " C a l i f o r n i a w h i c h Fergus inhabits and w h i c h Moore pictures as b r i l l i a n t l y as the a c t u a l settings of his other novels.  But the r e a l i t y Fergus encounters i n C a l i f o r n i a i s , i t s e l f , b i z a r r e .  F i r s t he is struck by the unreality of Los Angeles and e s p e c i a l l y of his e f f i c i e n c y apartment w h i c h , he c o n c l u d e s , is designed "to deny one's, e x i s t e n c e . " (pp.132-34)  S i m i l a r l y , Fergus is c o n v i n c e d that he c o u l d  l i t e r a l l y disappear in a town l i k e O x n a r d , C a l i f o r n i a , w h i c h he sees as "a l i v i n g tomb, . . . a w a s t e l a n d of shopping centers, tract h o u s e s , t r a i l e r c a m p s , marinas, . . . a town where you could never i n twenty years meet anyone you had k n o w n . " (p. 75) Everything about his life i n C a l i f o r n i a is unreal and unbelievable to Fergus . Even after l i v i n g w i t h D a n i , "young M i s s C a l i f o r n i a i n a m i n i s k i r t , " (p.11) for four months, Fergus s t i l l cannot b e l i e v e in their l i a i s o n ^ (p. 136) Fergus is a l s o impressed by-the incredible aspects of his employers Boweri and Redshields . When he v i s i t s Boweri's B e l - A i r m a n s i o n , w h i c h looks to him s u s p i c i o u s l y l i k e the Royal Palace i n M a d r i d , Fergus suspects everything and everyone of being "stagemanaged. " (p.66) A n d , i n d e e d , Boweri has o n l y to press his finger against the spine of a book in his library and "a w a l l of books moved, to r e v e a l , behind them, a three-hundredbottle b a r . " (p.65)  Redshields is a l s o a dealer in d e c e p t i o n s .  Fergus things  he is a director by a v o c a t i o n , but, in r e a l i t y , " l i k e many of his k i n d , a s a l e s m a n , a c a r n i v a l barker, " (p.28) whose preferred mode of communication w i t h other people adds yet another unreal q u a l i t y to his l i f e :  -  134  :  -  D i r e c t conversation w a s , to R e d s h i e l d s , a secondary form of communication. When he moved from the orbit of his h o u s e . . . , his telephone-answering s e r v i c e tracked his progress, keeping him a l w a y s in t o u c h . . . C a l l s , l o c a l , l o n g d i s t a n c e , i n t e r c i t y , intercontinental, endless t a l k i n g s to New York and L o n d o n , telephone receiver jammed between ear and hunched shoulder, greeting, c a j o l i n g , a d v i s i n g , shouting, l a u g h i n g , k i b i t z i n g , . . .a nonstop performance, .'. .for almost a l l of his c a l l s produced no tangible r e s u l t s , they were lottery t i c k e t s , part of a gamble w h i c h one in a hundred ploys might show some return. The telephone w a s , quite s i m p l y , more r e a l to Redshields than anything that happened outside its c i r c u i t s , (p.30) 1  G i v e n the unreality of the l i f e i n C a l i f o r n i a Fergus d e s c r i b e s , it is not s u r p r i s i n g that the ghosts from his familiar and b e l i e v a b l e past strike him as r e a l i n c o m p a r i s o n . The a c t u a l setting for Fergus' day of encounters w i t h the past i s a house on the P a c i f i c c o a s t , supposedly i s o l a t e d from the unreality of H o l l y w o o d , O x n a r d , and Los A n g e l e s . But even this house and the mountainous background behind it have an ambivalent r e a l i t y for Fergus: Behind the house were mountain s l o p e s , . . . a landscape e x i s ting continguously in his mind as a r e a l range of mountains and a l s o as a fantasy backdrop from w h i c h , rearing out of the film screens of his c h i l d h o o d , H o l l y w o o d cowboys might clatter through a mountain g u l c h . The house, l i k e this l a n d s c a p e , e x i s t e d both i n the present and in his past, as this r e a l house by the sea in C a l i f o r n i a and as the house he now imagined it w a s , that house o v e r l o o k i n g Belfast L o u g h , . . . . the house he was born i n . (p. 37) In front of Fergus' house l i e s the P a c i f i c . it seems:  the eternal s e a .  To F e r g u s , i t , at l e a s t , is what  H i s d e s c r i p t i o n s of the s e a , l i k e the f o l l o w i n g ,  always stress its timeless quality: . . .he turned toward the glass doors, and there, as a l w a y s , was the s e a , the l o n g P a c i f i c breakers beginning their run two hundred yards from shore. T h a l a s s a , T h a l a s s a , the loud resounding s e a , our great mother, T h a l a s s a . (p.4)  135 At the end of the n o v e l , after Fergus has apparently suffered a heart a t t a c k , Moore contrasts his mortal protagonist to the eternal sea: In the e a s t , dawn came u p . Breakers slammed on the morning shore, monotonous as a heartbeat. He w a l k e d toward the h o u s e . (p.228) M o o r e ' s symbolic p l a c i n g of Fergus between these two aspects of the setting — the unreality of the shore, the timeless r e a l i t y of the sea — e x a c t l y images Fergus p h i l o s o p h i c a l p o s i t i o n i n the n o v e l . 1  Fergus is  caught between the demands of the " r e a l " w o r l d , w h i c h he r e c o g n i z e s as often unreal and a m b i v a l e n t , and his desire to give his life a more s i g n i ficant m e a n i n g . H i s g h o s t - s i s t e r , M a e v e , who is a c t u a l l y v o i c i n g his own o p i n i o n , says that Fergus thinks his w r i t i n g provides h i s chance to cheat the g r a v e .  But the other g h o s t s , v i s i t o r s from a t i m e l e s s w o r l d ,  w i l l not even assure Fergus that his w r i t i n g w i l l be read in fifty years . And s o , l i k e the bird w h i c h beats h e l p l e s s l y against the g l a s s window of his house trying to f l y through it towards the s e a , (p. 36) Fergus struggles against an i n v i s i b l e barrier, an i l l u s i o n that no barriers e x i s t for h i m , to reach a higher e x i s t e n c e . Again it is M a e v e who outlines Fergus' problem to him: "Your trouble i s , you can't be sure of a n y t h i n g . You have no l a w s , no r u l e s , no s p i r i t u a l life at a l l . You have to make up your own rules of c o n d u c t . You have to become your own r u l e r , and found your own wee r e l i g i o n . You are your own g o d . " (p.55) The imagery of the novel provides an e x p l i c i t p a r a l l e l for Fergus' d i l e m m a . On the one hand is the unreality of C a l i f o r n i a w h i c h Fergus o b v i o u s l y r e c o g n i z e s as a d e n i a l of human nature, and on the other hand is the sea w h i c h is the perfect image for that greater r e a l i t y to w h i c h Fergus a s p i r e s .  Fergus  136 is set between the t w o , d i s s a t i s f i e d w i t h the first alternative but unable to r e a c h the second because of his i l l u s i o n that he can be his own g o d . At the end of the novel Fergus father c h a s t i s e s him for not a c h i e v i n g a 1  higher purpose (and i n d e e d , Fergus does not enter the sea during the n o v e l ) , for l i v i n g a meaningless l i f e . (p.227) From gloomy Belfast to the great P a c i f i c O c e a n , Brian Moore has t r a v e l l e d a considerable distance w i t h his c h a r a c t e r s , v i s i t i n g an e x c i t i n g but threatening New York and a. c o l d j M o n t r e a l en r o u t e .  Yet no matter what  the s e t t i n g , M o o r e ' s p i c t o r i a l powers are a l w a y s equal to creating v i v i d backgrounds against w h i c h his e q u a l l y v i v i d protagonists enact s p e c i a l r o l e s , the r e s u l t being an i n t e n s e l y v i s u a l i z e d r e a l i t y i n each n o v e l .  The  centre for a l l this v i s u a l r i c h n e s s is the protagonist whose unique character is the source of the s p e c i a l aura of each n o v e l .  -  137  -  Footnotes for Chapter IV ^Richard B . S a l e , "An Interview i n London w i t h Brian M o o r e , " Studies in the N o v e l , I (Spring, 1969(, p . 7 9 . 2 See Chapter II, p . ^ s . 3 See this chapter, p . 90. 4  H a l l v a r d D a h l i e , Brian Moore (Toronto: Copp C l a r k , 1969), p . 5 3 .  ^Dahlie, p. 54. 6 Dahlie, p.54. 7 See Chapter III, p . 63. 8 See a l s o p p . 15 , 64 . 9 The sight of her own naked,body a l s o f i l l s M a r y Dunne w i t h panic s i n c e it too seems to be a mask w h i c h hides her true i d e n t i t y . See the quotation, supra, p . 93. ^ G e o r g e W o o d c o c k , "A C l o s e S h a v e , " C a n a d i a n Literature, 16 (Spring, 1963), p . 7 2 . 11 S e e , for example, W i l l i a m C l a n c y , "Pathetic Grandeur of a Belfast S p i n s t e r , " The Commonweal (August 3, 1956), p . 4 4 8 , and M a r t i n L e v i n , " F u t i l i t y and a Furnished Room, " Saturday Review (July 7,1956), p . 9 12 H a l l v a r d D a h l i e , Brian M o o r e , p . 2 0 . 13 Judith Hearne's photographs are not the only images of people w h i c h are invested w i t h life in M o o r e ' s f i c t i o n . D e v i n e ' s photograph of his parents, (p.12) Paulie C o f f e y ' s photographs of popular figures, (p.29) Frank F i n n e r t y ' s photo of his father, (p.267) and Terence L a v e r y ' s gallery of great men (p. 154) a l l take on l i v i n g q u a l i t i e s when v i e w e d by M o o r e ' s protagonists. S i m i l a r l y , G a v i n Burke finds that his statue of the D i v i n e Infant of Prague is "a desperate l i t t l e preacher," (p.3) a n d , of c o u r s e , Fergus Fadden's mental photographs of the absent l i v i n g and dead have l i t e r a l l y come to life for h i m . 14 Tohn Stedmond, "Introduction," Judith Hearne (Toronto: New C a n a d i a n L i b r a r y , 1964), p . v i . ^Stedmond,  p.viii.  See p p . 34, 6 3 , 5 3 , 88, 89, 125, 129, 172, 190.  -  138  17 See Chapter III, pp. 85-gfo. 18  p.382.  Richard B . Sale, "Total R e c a l l , " The Nation, 206 (June 24, 1968),  19 Philip French, "Mary's D a y , "  New Statesman, 76 (Oct.25 ,1968),  p.552. 20 Richard B . Sale, "Total R e c a l l , " p . 8 3 2 . 21 Julian Moynahan makes such a comparison. See "On trial at a ghostly family picnic: Fergus , " New York Times Book Review (Sept. 27 ,1970), p.4. 22 See supra, p./05.  139 ' CHAPTER V  THEMATIC DEVELOPMENT  A l l of Brian M o o r e ' s central characters, each one magnificently r e a l i z e d by means of plot development, focus of narration, and patterns of language and imagery, are involved i n j a search for personal i d e n t i t y . At the end of each n o v e l , the protagonist has a c h i e v e d a new and more r e a l i s t i c s e l f - i m a g e as the result o f l o s i n g his i l l u s i o n s either through painful experience or by r e c a l l i n g and reordering h i s p a s t .  Moore remarks  on this constant theme w h i l e d i s c u s s i n g I Am M a r y Dunne in an interview with Hallvard Dahlie: She has reached a point in her life at w h i c h she begins to wonder who she r e a l l y w a s , who she r e a l l y i s , and who she is going to b e . . . .And if you know my w o r k , y o u ' l l know that's been the theme in my books — Brendan wonders if the o l d writer he w i l l be w i l l ever know the young boy he was . I f e e l that gap between the different s e l v e s w e are at different times of our l i f e very strongly because I have been such a wanderer m y s e l f . 1 4  By f o c u s i n g on his characters at a c r i t i c a l moment i n their l i v e s , Moore is able to dramatize the insights w h i c h a l l o w them to see themselves as changed, as having acquired a new i d e n t i t y . Moore says of his first two novels that he w i s h e d to depict the two or three c r i s i s weeks i n the l i v e s of Judith Hearne and Diarmuid D e v i n e , "when a l l the things they were 2 and have become r i s e up to confront t h e m — . . . . "  Both M i s s Hearne and  M r . D e v i n e forfeit the i l l u s i o n s on w h i c h they had based their hopes for the future:  Judith Hearne sees that she i s , i n f a c t , an unloved o l d woman  who does not even have faith as a comfort; Diarmuid D e v i n e d i s c o v e r s that he has become an " o l d woman" of a different sort, one whose i n a b i l i t y  140 to love is a subject for lavatory g o s s i p . T h e . c r u c i a l weeks i n G i n g e r : C o f f e y ' s life bring him a r e v e l a t i o n about himself w h i c h is not so completely dejecting as the revelations in the first two n o v e l s .  Ginger s a d l y r e a l i z e s that he w i l l die " i n humble  c i r c s , " that he is not a D u b l i n Squire or even "Coffey of the T r i b u n e . " But on the p o s i t i v e s i d e , he f i n a l l y achieves a more mature notion of himself:  he is able to accept r e s p o n s i b i l i t y , to say mea c u l p a .  S i m i l a r l y , G a v i n Burke's new sense of himself as "a compleat g r o w n - u p , " a c h i e v e d through his independent and mature behaviour during the bombing of B e l f a s t , provides a hopeful c o n c l u s i o n to M o o r e ' s fifty n o v e l , The Emperor of Ice-Cream, w h i c h , as Christopher R i c k s points out, "is the first of  [Moore's]  novels to be about the creation of a self."'*  The c r i s i s in the l i v e s of Jane and Brendan Tierney-is precipitated by the introduction into their home of Brendan's mother, M r s . E i l e e n Tierney.  During the weeks she is w i t h them, the beliefs of a l l three  characters are put to the t e s t , the tragic results of w h i c h r e v e a l the utter vanity of Brendan's conception of himself as a true writer (he sees in the end that he has a c t u a l l y r e s i g n e d from the human race to become an insentient recorder of events), and of Jane's v i e w of herself as the modern woman whose style is a r a i s o n d'etre (Jane loses a l l her  self-assurance  when she r e a l i z e s that neither her family nor her career has given her l i f e meaning).  M r s . Tierney's faith protects her from such s e l f - a n n i h i l a t i n g  experiences;  she is the one character whose sense of s e l f does not change.  141 But the price she pays for her beliefs;;is high: she dies because her baptism of Brendan and Jane's children prompts them to abandon her. In.I Am M a r y Dunne and Fergus, Moore focuses on a s i n g l e day i n w h i c h his protagonists are troubled by questions about their i d e n t i t i e s : M a r y Dunne wants to d i s c o v e r who she r e a l l y i s , w h i l e Fergus w i s h e s to a s c e r t a i n why he e x i s t s . Both characters achieve at l e a s t p a r t i a l answers to their problems.  In the act of remembering her p a s t , M a r y D u n n e , as  H a l l v a r d D a h l i e points out, attains "the identity s p e l l e d out by the book's title:  the identities she had temporarily assumed . . . cannot obscure the  only unchangeable fact about her, that she i s , and a l w a y s w i l l b e , M a r y 4 Dunne."  S i m i l a r l y , by encountering and evaluating his past ("A man is  what he does , not what he says he does . " p . 89), Fergus makes the n e c e s s a r y a d m i s s i o n of the meaninglessness of his present l i f e , an a d m i s s i o n upon w h i c h he can subsequently b u i l d a set of b e l i e f s to justify his sense of h i m s e l f .  C l e a r l y , the re cognition, of one's true identity and of the b e l i e f s  w h i c h s u s t a i n i t , is a major theme of these seven novels i n w h i c h the protagonist is depicted at a moment of c r i s i s w h i c h is a l s o a moment of truth. H a v i n g s a i d as much, s e v e r a l of M o o r e ' s c r i t i c s go on to imply a broader theme in the t o t a l i t y of M o o r e ' s w o r k . view held by c r i t i c s such as H a l l v a r d D a h l i e  5  There i s , for example, the  that the i n c r e a s i n g l y e m a n c i -  pated l i v e s of M o o r e ' s protagonists and the movement of his settings from the O l d W o r l d to the New W o r l d implies a more hopeful outlook on M o o r e ' s part. W h i l e r e v i e w i n g M o o r e ' s first s i x n o v e l s , H a l l v a r d D a h l i e m a i n t a i n s ,  142 There is in M o o r e , as i n Joyce, a movement from despair to affirmation, s p e l l e d out most strongly perhaps i n the p a s s a ges w h i c h conclude M a r y Dunne but implied i n the t o t a l i t y of his w o r k . The d i r e c t i o n i n M o o r e ' s f i c t i o n has c l e a r l y been towards a progressive emancipation of his characters: from Judith- Hearne and L u p e r c a l w i t h their characters l o c k e d in the s t i f l i n g environment of B e l f a s t , to Ginger Coffey and Limbo w i t h their immigrant characters ^caught up i n the flux and u n c e r t a i n t i e s , but a l s o the p o s s i b i l i t i e s , of the New W o r l d , and f i n a l l y to Emperor and M a r y Dunne whose protagonists are triumphant and emancipated. 6 In contrast, other c r i t i c s point to the p e s s i m i s m inherent i n M o o r e ' s w o r k . After d i s c u s s i n g the "horror v o i d " w h i c h underlies the a c t i v i t i e s of s u c c e s s ful Americans s u c h as M a r y D u n n e , Richard B . Sale s t a t e s , "The irony of 7 the search for identity i s that it may end s u c c e s s f u l l y . " A convergent v i e w is e x p r e s s e d by the c r i t i c of The Times Literary Supplement when he 8 compares M o o r e ' s recent book, The Revolution Script  to his earlier n o v e l s .  In this c r i t i c ' s o p i n i o n , Brian Moore has been "writing h i m s e l f into a c o r n e r . " M r . M o o r e ' s later novels show the v i s t i g i a l r e l i g i o u s c o n s c i e n c e straining to give; depth to North American! l i f e . F a i t h i t s e l f is u n a c c e p t a b l e , making unreasonable demands on the behaviour of anyone who is s p o r a d i c a l l y forced to be honest w i t h h i m s e l f . Y e t , bourbon, bedrooms and s u c c e s s do not content the s o u l : in t h i s , at l e a s t , the priests were always r i g h t . This p o t e n t i a l l y s u i c i d a l s i t u a t i o n has c l e a r l y caused M r . Moore much a n g u i s h , and his restatements of its miseries have been becoming i n c r e a s i n g l y b l e a k . At the end of F e r g u s , i n fact, he finds himself on the brink of n o n - s t a t e ment. "If you have not found a m e a n i n g , " says F e r g u s ' s {sic] ghostfather, "then your life is meaningless . " But to expect Brian Moore to produce a r e v e l a t i o n about the meaning of e x i s t e n c e i n the course of his novels is to require him to be more than a novelist.  M o o r e , h i m s e l f , argues that if he were working towards some 10  k i n d of s o l u t i o n , he would be w r i t i n g t r e a t i s e s , not n o v e l s .  His concern,  143 as he maintains on several o c c a s i o n s , is to depict the l i v e s of ordinary people:  their strengths and w e a k n e s s e s , their c r i s e s and r e s u l t i n g i n s i g h t s .  At times the v i s i o n i n s p i r e d by the life of a particular character is tragic (as in Judith Hearne), arvijat other t i m e s , this v i s i o n i s comic (as in The Emperor of I c e - C r e a m ) .  But in either situation", the thematic impulse of  M o o r e ' s novels derives d i r e c t l y from his protagonists and their e x p e r i e n c e s . An examination of just one of the recurring themes in M o o r e ' s f i c t i o n — the theme of the father, w h i c h is p a r t i c u l a r l y appropriate forlthis d i s c u s s i o n because it is related to the search for s e l f and because it subsumes many of M o o r e ' s minor themes, — illustrates. M o o r e ' s awareness of the paradoxes of ordinary human life w h i c h is his subject and not his m e s s a g e . Judith Hearne's tragedy has its origins in her father: A p i t y , her aunt s a i d , that C l o d a g h , Judy's mother, married a bit u n w i s e l y in that r e s p e c t . F a m i l y , she meant, but of course i t ' s not your poor dead father's fault that he was born a Hearne . And t h e n , speaking of great beauties , y o u ' l l never have a quarter the looks of your poor mother. N o , you take after the fjearnes , more's the p i t y . And they were nothing to write home about. P l a i n , (p. 108) A n d , of c o u r s e , i t ' s not poor Judith's fault that she is born a p l a i n Hearne, that she has no dot, and that when she is orphaned, she is taken in by her harsh Aunt D ' A r c y who is as e x a c t i n g as any stern father.  The second and  d e c i d i n g act in Judith Hearne's tragedy takes place during the years she s a c r i f i c e s for the care of her s e l f i s h aunt w h o , l i k e a jealous father, drives away M i s s Hearne's only s u i t o r , (p.96) As Christopher Ricks a s s e r t s , Judith Hearne chooses "not only her l o n e l y p a s s i o n , but a l s o her l o n e l y P a s s i o n , . . in that f o o l i s h , honourable moment when she lets herself be persuaded not  to commit her desperate aunt to an a s y l u m . "  The third act of her tragedy,  w h i c h the novel d r a m a t i z e s , finds her too o l d , too poor (her Aunt D ' A r c y has l i v e d off her c a p i t a l ) , and too p l a i n to lure even James M a d d e n , a rejected father returned from A m e r i c a , into marriage. This act i n v o l v e s two more fathers, who f a i l her just as her own father and her surrogate father, Aunt D ' A r c y , did in the p a s t .  Judith Hearne has faith i n G o d , her  heavenly Father, w h o , she b e l i e v e s w i l l answer her prayers for a husband, and in G o d ' s intermediary, Father Q u i g l e y .  Her f a i t h , however, is shaken  by God's apparent l a c k of concern for her and by Bernard R i c e ' s r a t i o n a l 13 arguments  against her r e l i g i o n :  "I t h i n k , M i s s H e a r n e . . . . I ask myself a few simple q u e s t i o n s . Perhaps you can answer them for me. Your god is o m n i s c i e n t and omnipotent. That's what the Church says . . .Then how can we hurt H i m ? W h y does He a l l o w a l l this suffering in H i s w o r l d ? W h y doesn't he answer your p r a y e r s . . . ? Has He ever repaid your faith i n H i m ? Has He some secret reason for behaving the way He d o e s , some reason He c a n ' t t e l l u s ? A l l right! Then why should I be expected to know his secret r e a s o n s ? W h y should I be expected to understand H i m when an o m n i s c i e n t , omnipotent G o d c a n ' t give me the a n s w e r s ? . . . W h y are you alone tonight, if it i s n ' t for your s i l l y r e l i g i o u s s c r u p l e s ? Answer me that, M i s s H e a r n e . " (p.159) M i s s Hearne can only make stock C a t h o l i c r e p l i e s to Bernard, just a s , l a t e r , Father Q u i g l e y can only offer c l i c h e s i n answer to her earnest questions about r e l i g i o n , but the c l i c h e s no longer satisfy her.  Judith H e a r n e , then, is a 14  novel about "an ordinary person who l o s e s the faith"  through the failure  . 15 of a l l her fathers . The fathers i n The Feast of L u p e r c a l are representatives of the same r e l i g i o n w h i c h f a i l s Judith Hearne, but i n this novel it is their role as s c h o o l authorities w h i c h is d e p l o r e d . Diarmuid D e v i n e ' s own father, who is dead  145 when the novel b e g i n s , was a l s o an educational authority, p r i n c i p a l of a large p u b l i c elementary s c h o o l , (p.14)  But neither he nor the teachers and  directors of S t . M i c h a n ' s where D e v i n e was a student taught D e v i n e the n e c e s s a r y s o c i a l graces by w h i c h to relate to women: It was the education in Ireland, dammit, he had s a i d it many a t i m e . He had been a boarder at this very s c h o o l , shut off from girls u n t i l he was almost a grown man. . . . It was a matter of ignorance, pure and s i m p l e , (p.9) The n o v e l c l e a r l y demonstrates that the same s c h o o l authorities who now control D e v i n e i n his role as a master are l a r g e l y r e s p o n s i b l e for D e v i n e ' s inhibitions w h i c h render him a "ninny, incapable of getting a g i r l . " (p.8) In p a r t i c u l a r , Father M c S w i n e y and Father Keogh represent two powerful methods of paternal control: the former i s a v i c i o u s , punitive man who uses the cane to terrorize;  the latter, a milder but M a c h i a v e l l i a n man, i s ,  as Moore s a y s , "the very s p i r i t of authoritarianism and C a t h o l i c i s m at its 16 worst.  He is R e a l p o l i t i k a l l the w a y . "  A third father i n the n o v e l , Tim  H e r o n , who canes D e v i n e , is yet another example of the brutal authoritarianism of C a t h o l i c e d u c a t o r s .  As U n a ' s guardian, he b e l i e v e s that he is protecting  her from s i n by forbidding her to l i v e her own l i f e , but she constantly defies his strictures and e v e n t u a l l y escapes his authority c o m p l e t e l y . U n a , whose own father i s dead and who is a Protestant, stands i n obvious and t e l l i n g contrast to D e v i n e . . Hers is a l i b e r a t i o n w h i c h D e v i n e , a puppet of the fathers of C a t h o l i c e d u c a t i o n , w i l l never k n o w . In the first two n o v e l s , the c h i l d r e n are more sinned against by their various fathers than s i n n i n g . Yet it is a measure of M o o r e ' s breadth of v i s i o n  146 that he i s capable of w r i t i n g a novel from a father's point of v i e w as w e l l . In The Luck of Ginger Coffey, M o o r e dramatizes the struggle of Ginger Coffey to keep the l o y a l t y and respect of his wife and daughter who are gradually being alienated by his immaturity. S i n c e his c h i l d h o o d , G i n g e r has ignored the warning of his confessor, Father C o g l e y , that he must r e c o g nize h i s l i m i t a t i o n s and curb his b o y i i k e schemes of romantic adventure. Therefore, in his middle age, Ginger is forced to go "hat i n hand to younger men" (p.39) to find employment, for he knows that he cannot keep his family 17 together unless he can support them.  F i n a l l y , he is employed by two men  who epitomize an authoritarian paternalism ( M r . M a c G r e g o r is d i c t a t o r i a l and Stanley M o u n t a i n is m i l i t a r i s t i c ) , and his l o w l y jobs reflect both his humiliation as an inadequate father and the s a c r i f i c e s he is prepared to make to regain his f a m i l y . his family:  L a t e r , Ginger makes two more imporant steps to preserve  he refuses to go through w i t h the charade adultery scene w h i c h  would enable his wife to divorce him and he l i e s about his true identity in court to spare his family from his d i s g r a c e .  The judge's d e c i s i o n to give  Ginger a suspended sentence again points to G i n g e r ' s role as a father: I am d e a l i n g w i t h you l e n i e n t l y , C o f f e y , because I am sorry for your f a m i l y . To be alone i n a new country, w i t h their breadwinner in j a i l , seems to me a fate w h i c h your wife and c h i l d do not. d e s e r v e , (p.233) 18 G i n g e r ' s s e l f l e s s act in court restores his family to him  and is e x p r e s s i v e  of his regeneration as a father. An Answer from Limbo depicts a.father w h o , i n contrast to Ginger C o f f e y , w i l l i n g l y gives up his domestic persona to become a w r i t e r .  Brendan  147 recognizes his own transformation when he remarks, We change. Scout Tierney is dead in me, as Brendan Tierney, the wage-earning paterfamilias is d e a d . The man I am become in these past weeks is kin only to that old writer who, someday, sitting on a balcony in Nice or San F r a n c i s c o , w i l l try to think back to this year and this p l a c e , to the moment when he was truly born. (p. 130) Moore treats every aspect of Brendan's birth as a writer and e s p e c i a l l y his motivation.  His ambition, Moore shows, is clearly linked to his need to  prove to his own father, D r . Charles Grattan T i e r n e y , a successful  Belfast  surgeon, that he should not have written off Brendan as a failure: I know only that if I were granted the wish to bring back to this world for one hour any human being I have known or read . of, I would put in the c a l l tonight for my father. We would not be friends. I might be shocked at his bigotry, his vanity, his platitudes. But there, standing in the k i t c h e n , holding his signet r i n g , I suddenly, desperately, wished that he were with me. I wanted to prove to him that he was wrong, that I, of a l l his children, w i l l do him honour. O Father, forgive me as I forgive y o u , Father, I am your s o n . (p.67) 19 M r s . Tierney confirms that Brendan is his father's s o n .  Like his father's,  Brendan's determination nourishes his ambition and makes him "ruthless and d e d i c a t e d , " entirely capable of sacrificing his loved ones "ad majorem Brendan gloriam." (p.50) After Brendan learns that his novel w i l l be published, he reflects that his own son, who is too young to understand this news, is "innocent of his future, of the father he must s u r p a s s . "  Brendan is obviously  alluding to the inevitable rivalry which occurs between a son and his s u c c e s s ful father, the same rivalry which has sparked his own ambition.  Moore shows  that this r i v a l r y , however productive outside the family, is destructive to a  148 f i l i a l relationship, not only because it sets son against father, but also because it leads a father to sacrifice his children by elevating his work above their needs . A second related theme of An Answer from Limbo is the contrast which Moore has said he wished to illustrate between Irish C a t h o l i c i s m  20 and "the rootless wasteland of North A m e r i c a . "  Hallvard Dahlie d i s c u s s e s  the wasteland imagery of An Answer from Limbo which obviously complements  21 the images of limbo since both conditions imply an absence of G o d .  Mrs.  Tierney alone in this novel has faith in G o d , her heavenly Father, who marvelously resembles her own father in her dream of Judgment D a y . Her faith in G o d , Moore suggests, enables her to act disinterestedly and for the g ood of others, while Brendan and Jane, who lack a spiritual father, s a c r i fice even those they presumably love best in the selfish pursuit of their own desires.  Faith in one's heavenly Father is evidently preferable to faith in  oneself.  Moore's treatment of this theme is further evidence of his compre-  hensive point of view, for he is able to point out the positive values of the same C a t h o l i c i s m which he c r i t i c i z e s in his first two n o v e l s . While An Answer from Limbo treats the destructive rivalry between father and s o n , The Emperor of Ice-Cream examines G a v i n Burke's alienation from his authoritarian father.  M r . James Burke, like most of the influential  22 fathers in Moore's novels, is a s u c c e s s f u l professional man,  whose very  success tends to daunt his impressionable son at the same time as it creates a desperate need in G a v i n to s u c c e e d .  Moore reveals the pompous bigotry of  149 Gavin's father for whom Hitler is preferable to the British, his  establishment  orientation which makes him insist that Gavin attain a profession, and his self-righteousness which prompts him to tell G a v i n that in view of Gavin's failure in exams ( M r . Burke was a scholarship winner), he w i l l not waste more money on h i m . A l l of these qualities as w e l l as M r . Burke's religiosity (Gavin has renounced his faith) illustrate why G a v i n is in revolt against grown-ups,"  "the  his father in particular. The novel also illustrates, however, that  Gavin's alienation which leads him to take his A . R . P . job to enjoy "independence from his father's do's and don'ts," (p.8) is the necessary preparation for Gavin's eventual growth to manhood.  At the end of the n o v e l , the new  adult Gavin is able to view his penitent father with compassion. Gavin's father's admission of error in his p o l i t i c a l views is related to a minor theme of the n o v e l , that of the undying hatred for the British on the part of Irish C a t h o l i c s .  Moore shows that nationalistic C a t h o l i c s such as  M r . Burke and that other unfortunate father, M i c k G a l l a g h e r , actually made a 23  dramatic volte face when the Germans bombed Belfast.  But before this  event, the p o l i t i c a l attitudes of the older generation are anathema to G a v i n , a less prejudiced member of the younger generation who did not experience "The T r o u b l e s . " Consequently, G a v i n sees politics along with religion and education as an important area of contention with his father. While Gavin is freeing himself of the authority of the older generat i o n , he comes under the influence of several other men.  W h i l e Freddy Hargreaves,  who is slightly older than G a v i n , and Captain Lambert are not quite father figures, they certainly initiate Gavin into aspects of the adult world, "undreamed  150 of in the S t . M i c h a n ' s school philosophy." (p.97)  But as G a v i n grows in  maturity, Freddy becomes l e s s an esteemed adult than a friend who admittedly has w e a k n e s s e s .  Gavin sees that Freddy and Captain Lambert both suffer  from a lack of w i l l power w h i c h , G a v i n r e c o g n i z e s , problem.  i s his own besetting  Gavin also shares Freddy's intellectual persuasions, and together  they defy a priest's injunction to pray during an air r a i d .  The image of G a v i n  and Freddy standing among the other kneeling figures symbolizes their adult independence from the fathers of r e l i g i o n . At the end of the n o v e l , Gavin's father (depicted with his head on Gavin's shoulder), Freddy Hargreaves, priests, and even Post Officer C r a i g who nominally held sway over G a v i n , have a l l been deposed, leaving Gavin lord of the moment, an "emperor of ice-cream." In I Am Mary Dunne, the theme of the father is broadened to express an indictment of the influence of a l l men on women.  Moore illustrates this  theme in his portrait of Mary Dunne whose psychological complexities directly to her various "fathers."  relate  W h i l e Mary Dunne has c o n s c i o u s l y  rejected her faith in G o d , The Father, the religious training she has not wholly forgotten explains her need for a dominant male figure to give meaning to her l i f e .  Consequently, she defies her third husband who, she c l a i m s ,  is her resurrection and her l i f e , (p.160) so that, in a s e n s e , Terence becomes both her husband and her god.  But her love for Terence is troubled by her  fear that she has inherited the promiscuous character of her own father whom she execrates in the mock-prayer, "Our father who art in h e l l , cursed be thy name." (p.16) Again it is Terence who takes her father's place in her life  151 e s p e c i a l l y insofar as he plays the role of her protector, the one who rescues her from an unhappy marriage to yet another father figure, Hat B e l l . The sexual and religious complications of Mary Dunne's character with their Freudian links to a father figure also relate to her fear of having no identity in a world dominated by men.  S p e c i f i c a l l y , she blames this  fear on her three husbands: And in real l i f e . . . , I play an ingenue r o l e , with s p e c i a l shadings demanded by each suitor. For Jimmy I had to be a tomboy; for Hat I must look like a model: he admired e l e g a n c e . Terence wants to see me as Irish: s u l k y , laughing, w i l d . And me, how do I see me, who is that me I create in mirrors, the dressing-table me, the self I cannot put a name to in the Golden Door Beauty Salon? When I think of that I hate being a woman, I hate this sickening female r o l e - p l a y i n g , I mean the s i l l y degradation of playing pander and whore in the presentation of my face and figure in a man's w o r l d , (p.31) Mary Dunne's general condemnation of the way men treat women which she  24 frequently articulates in the n o v e l ,  is also illustrated by the deleterious  effect of r o l e - p l a y i n g on her own character.  She begins to fear that the  numerous roles she has played are destroying her essential b e i n g , that the "me" she creates in response to various men is not herself.  But her eventual  recognition that she s t i l l is Mary Dunne is evidence that she cannot separate herself from her past actions any more than one can "know the dancer from the d a n c e . "  Moore's epigraph to this novel from W . B . Yeats's "Among School  C h i l d r e n , " is w e l l - c h o s e n . Moore's epigraph to Fergus from W a l l a c e Stevens' "The Auroras of Autumn" exactly describes Fergus' former harmonious life: We were as Danes in Denmark a l l day long And £ w e j knew each other w e l l , hale-hearted landsmen For whom the outlandish was another day  152  -  Of the w e e k , queerer than S u n d a y . . . . P r e s i d i n g over this unified and happy culture was Fergus' father, a 25 w e l l - k n o w n and respected surgeon.  Fergus is the son who questions  his father's supreme and contented trust i n God; Fergus dares to think "the o u t l a n d i s h , " — that there may be another day of the week a s i d e from the seven w h i c h terminate on the Sabbath D a y , that there may be other reasons for l i v i n g than are c o n c e i v e d of in his father's f a i t h .  Consequently,  Fergus l e a v e s his home and his homeland and c e a s e s to enjoy the s t a b i l i t y of a c o d e , of being a "Dane in D e n m a r k . " L i k e the m y t h i c a l Irish k i n g of the same name who renounced his throne to become a wanderer and a dreamer, Fergus travels to North America where he l i v e s as a w r i t e r . But when a p o s i t i o n as a s c r i p t - w r i t e r takes him to C a l i f o r n i a where the way of life is a n t i t h e t i c a l to the life he knew at home, Fergus' b e l i e f i n himself as arbiter of his own life is s t r a i n e d . At this moment of c r i s i s , the w i s h that Brendan Tierney had formulated for the return of his dead father is m y s t e r i o u s l y granted Fergus F a d d e n . D r . James Fadden appears from some undefined world to c o u n s e l F e r g u s .  He admits that  he is p l e a s e d w i t h Fergus' w r i t i n g , but not about his present l i f e . (p.25) Fergus naturally takes advantage of his father's s p e c i a l knowledge of life and death to ask if there is an a f t e r l i f e .  H i s father r e p l i e s that any world  he could describe w o u l d n e c e s s a r i l y 'jfe, i n c o n c e i v a b l e to F e r g u s . .The ambivalence of his reply gives Fergus grounds to argue that if there is no afterlife, then his father's faith was "a farce:"  -  15 3  -  " A l l the things you taught u s , the things you b e l i e v e d i n , your prayers, going to M a s s and C o n f e s s i o n and H o l y Communion, your devotion to Our L a d y , the whole t h i n g ! Your obedience to the rules of the c h u r c h , the ten commandments, mortal s i n s , ,plenary i n d u l g e n c e s , the l o t ! Just think of i t ! A sham, a fraud, a complete waste of time! " (p.226) But D r . Fadden counters Fergus' argument w i t h the s i g n i f i c a n t comparison that whereas faith gave his life a meaning w h i l e he l i v e d i t , Fergus' l i f e has none. (p.227)  The notion that D r . Fadden can return from the dead i s ,  i t s e l f , o u t l a n d i s h , but as the representative of a happier time when men were "as Danes in D e n m a r k , " he is an appropriate s p o k e s m a n .  M o r e o v e r , as  Fergus' most revered ghost who is both the first and l a s t to appear, and as Fergus' r e a l and s p i r i t u a l father, D r . . Fadden and his v i e w s are g i v e n great prominence. In this n o v e l w h i c h contains many echoes from the earlier 26 novels,  it is altogether fitting that the father who has been both r e v i l e d  and p i t i e d in the preceding n o v e l s , should here be restored to a more sympathetic and even admirable p o s i t i o n . The theme of the father, then, as it is developed in conjunction w i t h the theme of the search for personal identity in these seven n o v e l s , encompasses most of the ideas w h i c h Brian M o o r e ' s novels communicate about r e l i g i o n , e d u c a t i o n , the Irish character, the s p e c i a l problems of Northern I r e l a n d , life in North A m e r i c a , the problems of the w r i t e r , the values of faith and the d i f f i c u l t i e s i n v o l v e d in l i v i n g without a f a i t h , the c o n f l i c t of the generations, and the oppression of w o m e n . In M o o r e ' s f i c t i o n , a l l these ideas are presented through the experiences of the protagonists who are a l w a y s c h i l d r e n and o c c a s i o n a l l y fathers as w e l l , and who must a l l encounter  -  154  -  an e s s e n t i a l paradox of human life — that it is i m p o s s i b l e to l i v e without a father, but often impossible to l i v e w i t h him as w e l l .  The fact that this  paradox is experienced by a l l men supports Brian M o o r e ' s c l a i m that his w r i t i n g l i k e the work of James Joyce is a "celebration of the commonplace.  155 Footnotes for Chapter V •'•Hallvard D a h l i e , "Interviews Brian M o o r e , " The Tamarack R e v i e w , 50 (Winter, 1968), p . 2 1 . 2 I b i d . , p .18 . 3 Christopher R i c k s , "The Simple E x c e l l e n c e of Brian M o o r e , " New Statesman, 71 (Feb. 18, 1966), p . 2 2 7 . 4 H a l l v a r d D a h l i e , Brian Moore (Toronto: C o p p C l a r k , 1969), p . 1 0 6 . S e e a l s o , Jack L u d w i g , " E x i l e from the Emerald I s l e , " The N a t i o n , 200 ( M a r c h l 5 , 1965), p p . 2 8 7 - 8 8 . 5  g  H a l l v a r d D a h l i e , Brian M o o r e , p . 119. 7  R i c h a r d B . S a l e , "Total R e c a l l , " The N a t i o n , 206  (June 24, 1968),  p.832. g  Brian M o o r e , The Revolution S c r i p t (Toronto: M c C l e l l a n d and Stewart, 1971). For a d i s c u s s i o n of this w o r k , see Appendix A . 9 "A C a n a d i a n e p i s o d e , " Times Literary Supplement, N o . 3, 647 (January 21, 1972), p . 5 7 . ^ H a l l v a r d D a h l i e , "Interviews Brian M o o r e , " p . 2 1 . ^ S e e H a l l v a r d D a h l i e , "Interviews Brian M o o r e , " p . 18, and Richard B . S a l e , "An Interview i n London w i t h Brian M o o r e , " Studies in the N o v e l , I (Spring, 1969), p p . 7 5 - 7 7 . C h r i s t o p h e r R i c k s , "The Simple E x c e l l e n c e of Brian M o o r e , " p . 2 2 7 . Ricks is referring to the t i t l e of the North American e d i t i o n of Tudith Hearne: The Lonely P a s s i o n of Judith Hearne (Boston and Toronto: L i t t l e , Brown and Company, 1956). 12  13 Moore has s a i d that he gave Bernard Rice his own opinions about G o d ' s o m n i s c i e n c e and omnipotence. See H a l l v a r d D a h l i e , "Interviews Brian M o o r e , " p . 15 . 14 See Chapter I , p . 1. * A minor character, Professor O ' N e i l l , who i s a l s o a father figure, s i m i l a r l y disappoints Judith H e a r n e . .He avoids her company and a l s o answers her questions w i t h c l i c h e s s u c h a s , "Being an artist does not absolve a man from his r e l i g i o u s d u t i e s , Judy.^" (p.i45) But Professor O ' N e i l l at l e a s t gives Judith Hearne f i n a n c i a l support after her b r e a k d o w n . 5  156 16  H a l l v a r d D a h l i e , "Interviews Brian Moore , " p . 18.  -•.17 -• "The p u b l i c aspects of Ginger s private struggle comprise a ^related minor theme of the n o v e l . Moore s t r e s s e s the d i f f i c u l t i e s faced by immigrants in a new country, e s p e c i a l l y a country l i k e Canada where a; man's s u c c e s s is gauged by his a b i l i t y to make money. 18 Moore often illustrates the p o s i t i v e value of behaviour w h i c h is not s e l f i s h . M r s . T i e r n e y ' s u n s e l f i s h motivation is applauded and M a r y Dunne d e c l a r e s , "If there is a h e l l , it should be for s e l f i s h n e s s . " (p. 140) 19 ?  See a l s o p . 2 4 7 . 20 H a l l v a r d D a h l i e , Brian M o o r e , p . 6 5 . 2 1  I b i d . , p p . 73-76 .  22 Judith Hearne and M a r y Dunne are the only protagonists whose fathers are not only u n s u c c e s s f u l but a l s o deceased during their r e s p e c t i v e childhoods; their l a c k of a strong father i n youth no doubt underlies their subsequent need for a powerful male companion. 23 H a l l v a r d D a h l i e , "Interviews Brian M o o r e , " p . 2 9 . 2 4  S e e p p . 7, 113, 154, 156, 163, 164, 183.  or  °In his d r e s s , his s c h o l a s t i c and professional s u c c e s s , his r e l i g i o u s b e l i e f s , and his dominating.role as a p a t e r f a m i l i a s , Fergus' father is an amlagam of Professor O ' N e i l l , Dr.. T i e r n e y , and M r . . Burke, fathers i n M o o r e ' s earlier n o v e l s . 26 The c r i t i c of The Times Literary Supplement notes of Fergus: "There is some evidence that the book (The Seventh Novel) i s meant to contain a l l the other books — . . . . " "How to get on w i t h your ghosts , " TLS , N o . 3 , 606 (April 9, 1971), p . 4 1 3 . . 27 Richard B . S a l e , "An Interview in London w i t h Brian M o o r e , " p . 7 5 .  157 CONCLUSION In an interview w i t h Richard B . S a l e , Brian Moore describes his method of work as "frighteningly u n p r o f e s s i o n a l : " I start w i t h a character; then I try over a period of a year or more to do something w i t h that character. The story changes a l l the time as the character changes for me.^ H o w e v e r ^ "unprofessional" M o o r e ' s methods of composition may b e , the r e s u l t i n g novels are c e r t a i n l y s u c c e s s f u l and d e c i d e d l y r e v e a l i n g of his primary concern w i t h character. of the central character.  In every r e s p e c t , his novels bear the imprint  The plot describes his growth i n perception, w h i l e  the narrative concentrates on his point of v i e w . The patterns of language are related to his s p e c i a l character and d i c t i o n , just as the imagery is concerned w i t h his v i s i o n of the setting and e v e n t s .  The themes w h i c h inform  these events are always relevant to the protagonist's personal s i t u a t i o n and seen from his unique p e r s p e c t i v e .  Both in structure and in content,  then, the f i c t i o n a l worlds of Brian M o o r e ' s novels belong to the  protagonist.  "I b e l i e v e , " s a i d V i r g i n i a W o o l f , "that a l l novels . . . , deal w i t h character, and that it is to express character — not to preach d o c t r i n e s , s i n g s o n g s , or celebrate the glories of the B r i t i s h Empire, that the form of 2 the n o v e l , . . . has been e v o l v e d . "  But V i r g i n i a W o o l f a l s o r e c o g n i z e d , as 3  Iris M u r d o c h does w i t h s p e c i a l reference to the modern n o v e l , n o v e l i s t s are better at creating characters than others:  that some  Virginia Woolf  c r i t i c i z e d W e l l s , Bennett, and Galsworthy for f a i l i n g to deal d i r e c t l y w i t h their characters and Iris M u r d o c h finds that most modern novels l a c k such  158 characters as one finds in V i c t o r i a n n o v e l s .  These c r i t i c i s m s cannot  be l e v e l e d at Brian Moore whose s p e c i a l talent for fashioning his novels around a central character is u n m i s t a k e a b l e .  Richard B . S a l e , "An Interview in London w i t h Brian M o o r e , " Studies i n the N o v e l , I (Spring, 1969), p . 7 3 . 2 V i r g i n i a W o o l f , " M r . Bennett and M r s .. Brown, " C o l l e c t e d E s s a y s (London: Hogarth P r e s s , 1966), I, p . 3 2 4 . See supra, "Introduction," p . i i .  159 BIBLIOGRAPHY A l l e n , Bruce D . Anon.  "Reviews Fergus . " ;Library Journal, A u g u s t , 1970, p . 2 7 1 8 .  Review of Fergus: "How to get on w i t h your g h o s t s . " Supplement, N o . 3,606 (9 A p r i l , 1971), p . 4 1 3 .  Times Literary  A n o n . "Inside M a c l e a n ' s : How Brian Moore Rewrote The Revolution S c r i p t . " M a c l e a n ' s . 84 (September, 1971), p . 6 8 . A n o n . Review of The Revolution Script: "A C a n a d i a n e p i s o d e . " Supplement, N o . 3,647 (21 January, 1972), p . 6 8 .  Times Literary  Booth, Wayne C . The Rhetoric of F i c t i o n . U n i v e r s i t y of C h i c a g o P r e s s , 1961. C l a n c y , W i l l i a m . "Pathetic Grandeur of a Belfast S p i n s t e r . " 3 A u g u s t , 1956, p . 4 4 8 . Dahlie, Hallvard.  Brian M o o r e .  The C o m m o n w e a l ,  Toronto: Copp C l a r k , 1969.  . "Interviews Brian M o o r e . "  The Tamarack R e v i e w , 50 (Winter,  1968), p p . 7 - 2 9 . French, Philip.  " M a r y ' s D a y . " New Statesman,  F r y e , Northrop. Fables of Identity.  New York:  F u l f o r d , Robert. "Interviews Brian M o o r e , " 1962), p p . 5 - 1 8 .  76 (25 O c t o b e r , 1968), p p . 5 5 0 Harcourt, Brace & W o r l d , 1963.  The Tamarack R e v i e w , 23 (Spring,  Humphrey, Robert. Stream of C o n s c i o u s n e s s in the Modern N o v e l . and Los A n g e l e s : U n i v e r s i t y of C a l i f o r n i a P r e s s , 1968.  Berkeley  L e v i n , M a r t i n . " F u t i l i t y and a Furnished R o o m . " Saturday R e v i e w , 39 (7 July 1956), p . 9 . L u d w i g , J a c k . " E x i l e from the Emerald I s l e . " The N a t i o n , 200 (15 M a r c h , 1965), pp.287-88. Lodge, D a v i d .  Language of F i c t i o n .  London: Routledge and Kegan P a u l , 1966.  M o o r e , B r i a n . "Brian Moore T e l l s About I Am M a r y Dunne . " Literary G u i l d M a g a z i n e , July, 1968, p . 5 1 .  160 M o o r e , B r i a n . Judith Hearne. London: Andre D e u t s c h , 1955. Other e d i t i o n : The L o n e l y P a s s i o n of Judith H e a r n e . Boston and Toronto: L i t t l e Brown and Company, 1956 . . The Feast of L u p e r c a l . Boston and Toronto: Company, 1957. . The Luck of Ginger C o f f e y . and Company, 1960  L i t t l e , Brown and  Boston and Toronto:  . A n Answer from L i m b o . Boston and Toronto:  L i t t l e , Brown  L i t t l e , Brown and  Company, 1962 . .  The Emperor of I c e - C r e a m .  New York: V i k i n g P r e s s , 1965.  .  I Am M a r y D u n n e .  .  Fergus . Toronto:  .  The Revolution S c r i p t . Toronto:  New York: V i k i n g Press , 1968. M c C l e l l a n d and Stewart, 1970. M c C l e l l a n d and Stewart, 1971.  M o y n a h a n , J u l i a n . " O n T r i a l at a ghostly family p i c n i c : Fergus . " New York Times Book R e v i e w , 9 A p r i l ; 1970, p . 4 . Murdoch, Iris.  "Against Dryness . " Encounter ,Sv"^hua?y;,. 1961, p p . 1 6 - 2 0 .  R i c k s , C h r i s t o p h e r . "The Simple E x c e l l e n c e of Brian M o o r e . " New Statesman, 71 (18'February, 1966), p p . 6 7 - 8 0 . S a l e , Richard B . "An Interview in London w i t h Brian M o o r e . " Studies in the i? N o v e l , I (Spring, 1969), p p . 6 7 - 8 0 . .  "Total R e c a l l . " The N a t i o n , 206 (24 June, 1968), p . 8 3 2 .  Stedmond, John. "Introduction. " . Judith Hearne . Toronto: L i b a r y , 1964, p p . v - v i i i . Van Ghent, D o r o t h y . The E n g l i s h N o v e l : Harper & Row, 1953. Woodcock, George. p p . 70-72  "A C l o s e S h a v e . "  New C a n a d i a n  Form and F u n c t i o n .  New York:  C a n a d i a n Literature, 16 (Spring, 1963),  W o o l f , V i r g i n i a . " M r . Bennett and M r s . B r o w n . " London: Hogarth Press , 1966.  Collected Essays.  2 vols.  161  -  APPENDIX A: THE REVOLUTION SCRIPT W h i l e this t h e s i s was in progress, Brian Moore published The Revolution Script* w h i c h concerns the a c t i v i t i e s of the two Front de Liberation c e l l s , the Liberation C e l l w h i c h kidnapped James C r o s s and the C h e n i e r C e l l w h i c h kidnapped and murdered Pierre L a p o r t e . The book focuses on the Liberation C e l l , the members of w h i c h , as Moore points out, "by ^ a p p e a r i n g into C u b a , h a d , in a s e n s e , become f i c t i o n a l 2 characters, moving into history and l e g e n d . "  Moore has d e s c r i b e d his  motivation for w r i t i n g a book around these people: I had a tale w h i c h contained murder, terror, s u s p e n s e , heroes, v i l l i a n s , and the M a c h i a v e l l i a n use of p o l i t i c a l power. By u s i n g n o v e l i s t i c techniques to portray these e v e n t s , I c o u l d try to show these young people, not as f a c e l e s s "terrorists" but as what they are: young b r a v e , dangerous, confused r e v o l u t i o n a r i e s . I d e c i d e d to r i s k : w r i t i n g it i n this form. I knew that I w a s , and a m , t a k i n g l i b e r t i e s . But then, that is what any writer takes when he t r i e s , through f i c t i o n a l t e c h n i q u e s , to t e l l a t r u t h . ^ The e v e n t s , therefore, are seen c h i e f l y through the eyes of James C r o s s ' s kidnappers:  M a r c Carbonneau, Jacques C o s e t t e - T r u d e l and his w i f e , L o u i s e ,  Yves L a n g l o i s , Jacques Lanctot and his w i f e , S u z a n n e / But many other points of v i e w are added including those of the Chenier C e l l , of the p o l i c e , and of various p o l i t i c a l figures . The Revolution S c r i p t differs from the seven novels d i s c u s s e d in this t h e s i s p r i n c i p a l l y because it is not a w h o l l y imagined work of f i c t i o n .  4 It has been v a r i o u s l y d e s c r i b e d as a 1"non-fiction n o v e l , " d i c t i o n i n terms) and as a "documentary n o v e l . "  0  (surely a c o n t r a -  And despite M o o r e ' s  c l a i m that the members of the Liberation C e l l are " i n a s e n s e , " f i c t i o n a l  162 characters, for most people they remain r e a l - l i f e participants in an a c t u a l crime.  M o r e o v e r , because Moore e l e c t s to treat them w i t h equal a t t e n t i o n ,  no one character is sufficiently developed to capture the reader's i m a g i n a t i o n . The sheer number of the characters, aside from the L i b e r a t i o n C e l l i t s e l f , gives the book a diffuse q u a l i t y w h i c h is never the case in M o o r e ' s n o v e l s , centered as they are on a single character who is i n t e n s e l y r e a l i z e d . In a d d i t i o n , the documentary s t y l e of various sections w h i c h are interspersed w i t h the many passages narrated by the people i n v o l v e d , marks a s i g n i f i c a n t departure from M o o r e ' s u s u a l highly personal s t y l e of narration.  Because of  these differences, The Revolution Script cannot be i n c l u d e d in this t h e s i s w h i c h treats M o o r e ' s methods of c h a r a c t e r i z i n g his f i c t i o n a l central c h a r a c t e r s . As the c r i t i c of The Times Literary Supplement points out: It hardly seems l i k e a B r i a n Moore book at a l l ; and though one has no right to disappointment on that s c o r e , for it is not a w r i t e r ' s duty to be p r e d i c t a b l e , it must be s a i d that books of this k i n d have been produced by writers without a fraction of M r . M o o r e ' s t a l e n t . There is almost no opportunity here for M r . Moore to get i n s i d e the minds of his c h a r a c t e r s , to w a t c h them interpret the present in the l i g h t of their own personal h i s t o r i e s , or to put over his narrative i n the particular idiom of the i n d i v i d u a l w i t n e s s i n g e v e n t s . . Thus he casts his greatest gift a s i d e . 6 M o o r e ' s choice of a l e s s imaginative and more documentary style in The Revolution Script is c e r t a i n l y p u z z l i n g , for i n his preceding f i c t i o n , Moore has e f f e c t i v e l y treated s i m i l a r themes and c h a r a c t e r s .  The plight  of B e l f a s t ' s Roman C a t h o l i c minority is d e s c r i b e d in Judith Hearne and The Feast of L u p e r c a l , w h i l e the character of p o l i t i c a l extremists is examined  in The Emperor of I c e - C r e a m .  163  -  It is s i g n i f i c a n t that whereas Moore set  out to develop the characters of people who a c t u a l l y e x i s t in a documentary w o r k , he h a s , in f a c t , been more s u c c e s s f u l in portraying s i m i l a r characters who are purely i n v e n t e d .  The contrast between The Revolution Script and  M o o r e ' s earlier novels illustrates that M o o r e ' s "greatest gift" is undoubtedly his a b i l i t y to create f i c t i o n a l  1  characters.  Brian M o o r e , The Revolution Script (Toronto: M c C l e l l a n d and Stewart, 1971)  2 See "Inside M a c l e a n ' s : How Brian Moore Rewrote The Revolution S c r i p t , " M a c l e a n s , 84 (September, 1971), p . 68. 3 I b i d . , p.68 4  lb i d . , p . 68  5 "A C a n a d i a n e p i s o d e , " (January 21, 1972), p . 5 7 . 6 Ibid., p.57.  The Times Literary Supplement, N o . 3, 647  

Cite

Citation Scheme:

        

Citations by CSL (citeproc-js)

Usage Statistics

Share

Embed

Customize your widget with the following options, then copy and paste the code below into the HTML of your page to embed this item in your website.
                        
                            <div id="ubcOpenCollectionsWidgetDisplay">
                            <script id="ubcOpenCollectionsWidget"
                            src="{[{embed.src}]}"
                            data-item="{[{embed.item}]}"
                            data-collection="{[{embed.collection}]}"
                            data-metadata="{[{embed.showMetadata}]}"
                            data-width="{[{embed.width}]}"
                            async >
                            </script>
                            </div>
                        
                    
IIIF logo Our image viewer uses the IIIF 2.0 standard. To load this item in other compatible viewers, use this url:
http://iiif.library.ubc.ca/presentation/dsp.831.1-0101704/manifest

Comment

Related Items