Delphi Works of Ford Madox Ford (Illustrated) (390 page)

BOOK: Delphi Works of Ford Madox Ford (Illustrated)

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Mr Bransdon had not moved during the whole of this conversation. His ebony cane remained planted in the same hole in the turf that it had made a quarter of an hour before.

“Look here!” he exclaimed, “I’m not taking half the share in this conversation that is due to my dignity and years.”

“Of course, you aren’t,” Hamnet said cheerfully. “You’re listening to me. You’re going to put me into a book. When you’ve got into another romantic phase you’ll write about me as the young faun, as something that has faded into, has identified itself with, Nature. You’ll describe how I stand in a black wood at night. Oh, I know you, you unscrupulous old artist. You’re standing there pursuing your avocation. You’ll describe how I shall stand there, invisible to myself, in the liquid darkness, and overhead, in a pale sky, there will be the great white stars seen through the branches. And I shall see nothing of myself and I shall feel my body in no way at all. I shall know only that the great earth is swinging through the darkness. I shall be conscious only of the motion and I shall feel my heart beat with the heart beat of Nature. That’s the sort of thing, isn’t it, old boy?” He continued cheerfully, “Only you’d turn me into a nigger in primordial South Africa.”

“At present,” Mr Bransdon said, “I am writing a play about the London Stock Exchange.”

“Of course you are,” Hamnet answered. “But you’ll get through that phase, too, if you live to be old enough. And people always return just before they die to the sort of stuff they started out with. What I’ve just been saying is very like a passage from
Clotted Vapours,
your first book. You go through your phases just as I go through mine. Of course every now and then I feel at one with Nature, but it wouldn’t be fair to render me as only that, because I’ve got a sense of humour. One of these days, in God’s good time, you’ll find me up in London dashing about in motor-cars and indulging in the sort of sordid dissipation that my father has put into my blood. It’s all right, don’t you worry. You give me time.”

Mr Bransdon raised the handle of his stick to his lips.

“You knew all the time,” he said, “that Ophelia Everard was your half sister.”

“Of course, I knew it,” Hamnet answered. “How could I escape it, with my mother grizzling about it half the time and Miss Egmont tearing my father’s hair out for the rest of it!”

“And yet you married her?” Mr Bransdon said.

“Of course I did,” Hamnet answered. “I just wanted to get her away from those sickening, slack conditions. It seemed about the best way to do it, and so it would have been if she hadn’t been such a disgusting little prig at that time.”

“Well, she’s got out of that,” Mr Bransdon said.

“Oh, yes, old boy,” Hamnet answered. “She’s got, and you’ve got, and we’ve all got, thank God! out of that.”

THE END

LADIES WHOSE BRIGHT EYES

This historical novel was one of Ford’s most popular works during his lifetime, winning him fame and critical praise in 1911, causing the author to reissue it several times.

In his dedication Ford admits that the novel was the hardest work he had accomplished till that time.

Serving as a reply to Mark Twain’s
A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court
, the novel offers a social commentary on the differences between fourteenth and twentieth century England, featuring action from both time periods.

The narrative concerns the practical Edwardian businessman Mr Sorrell, who has gained control of the publishing house Sorrell and Sons, transforming it into a money-making success.

As the novel opens, Sorrell is aboard a boat train from Southampton to London.

He studies an ancient relic that has come into his keeping, said to have been brought to England from Palestine after the Battle of Bannockburn by a Greek slave. Suddenly the train overturns and Sorrel is left unconscious, only to awaken dressed as a Greek slave in England in 1326.

At first Sorrell relishes the opportunity of being in the past, believing he could invent anything he might wish.

However, he is sadly disillusioned when he realises his own ignorance to achieve any of his plans.

Instead, Sorrell develops a humbling respect for the people of the Middle Ages and the hardships they faced, lauding their long-dead rules of chivalry and feeling deep satisfaction when he eventually becomes a Knight. The modern change of viewpoint of the medieval period clearly differs from Twain’s own interpretation of the time, encouraging the modern reader to consider history from a modern standpoint.

Ladies Whose Bright Eyes
is a delightful read, with vivacious depictions of medieval life, complemented with researched depth and humorous insight.