Peter Pan (2 page)

Viewed from a biographical and psychoanalytical perspective, the Peter Pan writings may indeed be loaded with controversial issues. Barrie was filled with all sorts of complexes and was clearly concerned about winning and holding his mother’s love, developing his sexual prowess, and proving himself as a brilliant man and writer. But it would be a great mistake to read and interpret his works solely from the viewpoint of his personal struggles. Most readers of the novel and viewers of
the play are probably attracted to Peter Pan, the boy, who never grows up and who refuses to integrate himself into normal English society, for many reasons other than those related to the struggles of Barrie’s life. There is something appealing on a broad cultural level about the rebellious character of Peter Pan that demands greater attention than Barrie’s problems, for Peter Pan is a cultural icon, a lonely rebel who refuses to be civilized. Moreover, he vigorously defends his lifestyle despite his loneliness. In this regard he resembles other major figures of children’s literature produced at about the same time—specifically, Huckleberry Finn of
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
(1884) and Dorothy of
The Wizard of Oz
(1900). Huck declares at the end of Mark Twain’s novel that he would rather go to hell than be civilized; in L. Frank Baum’s
The Emerald City of Oz
(1910), the sixth novel of the series, Dorothy refuses to return to Kansas, and she remains in Oz for the rest of her life. More than Huck and Dorothy, Peter Pan keeps returning to insist that he can’t stay. He is always in our presence, and yet he denies us his presence even when we are seduced by him during performances of the play to cry out that we believe in fairies. What are we to make of these protagonists, who reject their societies to live in other realms? Was there something in the air in America and England at the turn of the century that produced these great works of children’s literature? Were these works of defiance? Why have they continued to play such a powerful role in American and British culture, up through the beginning of the twenty-first century?

Admittedly, we can never discover the “essential” meaning of the Peter Pan icon. The story behind the writer of the Peter Pan works and the story about the signification of the Peter Pan works have merged just as the stories, play, and novel about Peter Pan have become interwoven. However, it is important to try to distinguish between Barrie’s life and his works to grasp how they are connected and how they need to be unraveled and read in different ways, for Peter Pan is not J. M. Barrie, and Barrie was never certain what Peter meant or what he intended to do with Peter, Wendy, and the boys.

James Matthew Barrie was born in the Scottish village of Kirriemuir on May 9, 1860. He was the third son—and ninth child—of David Barrie, a handloom weaver, and his wife, Margaret Ogilvy. (In the Scottish tradition, his wife retained her family name.) One more daughter, Maggie, was born three years later. Though the family was large and money was scarce, the Barries were fiercely independent and believed strongly in the power of religion and education to improve their lot on earth. David Barrie and Margaret Ogilvy were also very ambitious for their children. Whatever money was made through weaving was to be used to further the education of the boys and to provide good Christian training for the girls. Moreover, everyone was expected to demonstrate loyalty to the family, and they did indeed support each other throughout their lives. For instance, Alexander (Alec), the eldest brother, born in 1842, was already at Aberdeen University when James Barrie was born. Soon after he became a master at Glasgow Academy, he helped finance his two brothers’ educations and could always be called upon to provide counsel.

There were, however, a few problems in the Barrie household, a typical family from this region of Scotland. The father was barely visible because he worked so much, and Margaret Ogilvy kept tight control over the children to make sure they were clean and industrious, went to church every Sunday, read the Bible, and did well at school. Though each child was looked after with great care, it was clear that the second son, David, born in 1853, was Margaret’s favorite and that she had high hopes he would become a famous Protestant minister in Scotland. In 1866, David was sent to Bothwell in Lanarkshire, where Alexander was principal of a small school, to be prepared for entrance examinations at either Glasgow or Aberdeen University. However, right before David’s fourteenth birthday in 1867, he had an accident while ice skating and died from a badly fractured skull. His death was particularly traumatic for his mother. According to Barrie’s later account,
Margaret Ogilvy
, published in 1896, she went into a deep depression and remained melancholy for the rest of her life. Though he was only six at the time and barely remembered David, Barrie did recall
how he himself made up his mind to restore her to good health and happiness by becoming successful in life. Though not as studious as his older brothers, Barrie was an avid reader, often reading books with his mother, and he took a great interest in theater, using toy theaters to dramatize scenes from the Old Testament. He was also a prankster and developed a great love for cricket. His parents’ expectations for him were never great, but his mother did take comfort in sharing stories with him, and, as he wrote, “I sat a great deal on her bed trying to make her forget him, which was my crafty way of playing physician.”

To a certain degree, the young Barrie, who did not totally abandon his carefree ways, assumed the role of doctor in the family from that point on—a role that he would play throughout the rest of his life. Barrie came to love doctoring, and not just his mother. As he grew older, he doctored people in all his relations, prescribing how they should feel, what they should do, and what medicine they should take in certain instances—basically, ordering their lives for them. But first he had to doctor himself—to learn and decide what he wanted to do.

From the ages of eight to eighteen, his education was supervised by his brother Alec at Glasgow Academy and at Dumfries Academy. He was a better-than-average student and an avid reader of English and American literature, and he founded an Amateur Dramatic Club. But his overall grades were not strong enough for him to obtain a scholarship to the university, and anyway he hoped that his family would support his decision to become a freelance writer upon graduation from Dumfries. Despite his desires, however, and despite the fact that he had not won a scholarship, his parents insisted that he study for a degree at the university. Once again, Alec intervened, telling James that he would pay for his education at Edinburgh University, where David Masson, a great scholar of literature, might take him under his wing. Because Barrie could never bear to hurt his family, he agreed to study for four years to obtain a Master of Arts, with a specialization in literature.

At eighteen Barrie had not grown much taller than five-feet-one or -two, and he felt awkward and shy in public. He had
never had a romantic relationship with a girl. Socially, his adaptation to university life was difficult. Moreover, he dreaded the required courses in the sciences and had to lead an ascetic life in Edinburgh due to meager finances. But Barrie was always enterprising and determined to make his mark as a writer. Within the first year of his studies, he managed to become a freelance drama critic for the Edinburgh
Courant
and reviewed plays in Edinburgh, Glasgow, and other cities. In addition, he joined a debating society and gradually learned to overcome his shyness. During his four years at the university he studied hard, attended the theater as much as possible, formed friendships with other male students, and finally earned his M.A. in April of 1882.

Despite the degree, Barrie found himself in the same position in which he had been when he had graduated from Dumfries Academy four years earlier—with a great desire to become a writer, but with no job and no prospects for work. Thus it remained until the winter of 1882, when one of his sisters, Jane Ann, happened to see an advertisement for a journalist who could write lead articles for the
Nottingham Journal
, an English newspaper. Barrie applied on a lark, and to his great surprise, he received the post and an opportunity to write not only feature articles for the newspaper but also reviews, stories, and skits. Some of these writings were also published in London magazines. Unfortunately, by October of 1884, he was dismissed because the owners of the newspaper were losing money and decided to print syndicated articles rather than paying their own journalists.

No sooner did Barrie return to Kirriemuir than he began making plans to move to London, where he had some success in selling articles to various magazines and newspapers. In March of 1885 he finally took up residence in London near the British Museum, and threw himself into his work. Within five years he was regarded as one of the most promising young writers in England. He published numerous articles and stories in the
St. James’s Gazette, Spectator, Chambers Journal
, and other newspapers and magazines, as well as writing skits and small plays. His first major book publication,
Auld Licht Idylls
(1888), a collection of sketches of rural Scotland during the early nineteenth century and based in part on his mother’s reminiscences, was a relative success. It was followed by a similar book,
A Window in Thrums
(1889), which did not do well. But his first novel,
The Little Minister
(1891), was hugely popular. Set in Scotland in 1840 during the Weavers’ Riots, it concerns a “little” minister who falls in love with a Gypsy and must contend with the people of his town, who object to his nonconformist behavior. The novel was adapted for the stage in 1897 and made a name for Barrie in England and America, not only as a novelist but also as a dramatist. However, before turning mainly to the theater, he honed his skills as a prose fiction writer.

In 1896, after publishing collections of his stories and sketches, he produced two important works:
Margaret Ogilvy
, the biography of his mother, which in part created the legend of young Jamie, who could never replace his dead brother in his mother’s eyes; and
Sentimental Tommy
, which dealt with a young dreamer and had strong autobiographical elements that were also incorporated into the sequel,
Tommy and Grizel
(1900). The second novel was a harbinger of Peter Pan, with such notable passages by the fictitious narrator as:

Such passages are significant because they reveal how early in his writings Barrie tried to objectivize himself as the boy who wouldn’t grow up. He consciously—and, one might add, successfully—developed a manipulative narrative style through the use of a fictional author who plays on the sympathies of his readers with charm and wit. All the time Barrie was doctoring his life story, almost as if he were writing the “fairy tale of my life,” as Hans Christian Andersen had done in his autobiography. Like Andersen, Barrie did not reveal truths about himself; rather, he doctored his writings to conceal terrifying insights into his own psyche and behavior. Many writers compose autobiographical works to construct legends about themselves and prevent the public from forming their own opinions about them. Barrie was no different—he always tried to censor and govern his relations with the outer world.

And relate he did—on a grand scale. The more famous he became in the 1890s, the more he began taking an interest in grand society and in young women. Barrie’s financial situation improved immensely, allowing him to move to grander living quarters and to dine and mix with people of the upper classes. With more fame and confidence he began dating young actresses, whom he had always admired but felt too shy to meet. By the time his play
Walker, London
(1892) was produced in London, he had fallen in love with Mary Ansell, a talented, beautiful actress. During a long courtship with her, he knew that she wanted to marry him, but he hesitated for months to ask her. In one of the more telling accounts of his life,
J. M. Barrie: The Man Behind the Image
, Janet Dunbar comments: