UBC: The Old Lie
Apr. 10th, 2012 01:47 pmParker, Peter. The Old Lie: The Great War and the Public School Ethos. 1987. London: Hambledon Continuum, n.d.
Home sick with a nasty hacking cough (and good LORD the prescription cough syrup is nasty--it's like drinking a teaspoon's worth of cough-syrup flavored honey), and finished reading Peter Parker's The Old Lie.
The Old Lie is about World War I and British public schools, more specifically about the way in which the public schools created an officer caste that believed the greatest achievement possible for them was to die young in battle. (Apply the words "glory" and "heroism" and "chivalry" to taste.) Parker goes into great detail, with seemingly endless primary sources, to show that not only were the young men of Britain being told that that was what they should want, but for many of them, it was true. They internalized this ethos, interpolated themselves into its systm, and participated enthusiastically in the indoctrination of their younger brothers (both literal and metaphorical).
And they died. Horribly. Unheroically. Unromantically. For reasons that had nothing at all to do with the reasons they were willing to die. "Poppies for young men," as Sting says, "death's bitter trade."
This is a fascinating book, and an appalling one. The alien lunacy of the primary sources belies the fact of their historical proximity. Although it trivializes Parker's project to reduce it to merely a useful secondary source, it is true that The Old Lie helped me understand the undercurrents of The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club.
Parker is so steeped in his subject, that I suspect some of his argument was actually lost to me because I'm not familiar enough with either the British public school system or the poetry of WWI. Or World War I itself. (I could seriously have used an apparatus of annotations.) But despite that, this was an illuminating read on a subject I find difficult to get my head around.
Home sick with a nasty hacking cough (and good LORD the prescription cough syrup is nasty--it's like drinking a teaspoon's worth of cough-syrup flavored honey), and finished reading Peter Parker's The Old Lie.
The Old Lie is about World War I and British public schools, more specifically about the way in which the public schools created an officer caste that believed the greatest achievement possible for them was to die young in battle. (Apply the words "glory" and "heroism" and "chivalry" to taste.) Parker goes into great detail, with seemingly endless primary sources, to show that not only were the young men of Britain being told that that was what they should want, but for many of them, it was true. They internalized this ethos, interpolated themselves into its systm, and participated enthusiastically in the indoctrination of their younger brothers (both literal and metaphorical).
And they died. Horribly. Unheroically. Unromantically. For reasons that had nothing at all to do with the reasons they were willing to die. "Poppies for young men," as Sting says, "death's bitter trade."
This is a fascinating book, and an appalling one. The alien lunacy of the primary sources belies the fact of their historical proximity. Although it trivializes Parker's project to reduce it to merely a useful secondary source, it is true that The Old Lie helped me understand the undercurrents of The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club.
Parker is so steeped in his subject, that I suspect some of his argument was actually lost to me because I'm not familiar enough with either the British public school system or the poetry of WWI. Or World War I itself. (I could seriously have used an apparatus of annotations.) But despite that, this was an illuminating read on a subject I find difficult to get my head around.
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Date: 2012-04-10 06:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-10 07:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-10 07:17 pm (UTC)The Library of Congress has a series of pictures taken by the Bain News Service archived online in the Flickr archive known as "The Commons". These photographs range from the naive, almost romantic, early years of the war, to photos of mass graves for horses killed in battle, to photos of POWs and wounded soldiers in hospitals.
Those photos dispel any idea of war being full of glory or heroism, or that dying is a noble aspiration.
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Date: 2012-04-10 08:29 pm (UTC)(The attitude also shows up refracted interestingly in Angela Brazil's boarding-school novels of the War, via the girls' brothers. And, to an extent, the girl characters themselves.)
edit to fix syntax!fail
---L.
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Date: 2012-04-10 08:50 pm (UTC). . . but now I want to read it, just so I can then go back and re-read The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club and see what it's getting at.
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Date: 2012-04-10 11:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-11 01:08 am (UTC)On one hand, it might be interesting. Then, I read The Return to Camelot: Chivalry and the English Gentleman, by Mark Girouard, and even its chapter on the topic of World War I was rather ugly. . . .
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Date: 2012-04-11 06:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-11 11:57 am (UTC)I'm not sure from what you say how far the book explains its title, which is from Wilfred Owen's powerful/ghastly Dulce et Decorum Est http://www.warpoetry.co.uk/owen1.html although I'd translate decorum as 'proper' which is a peculiarly british word - correct, expected, fitting, good behaviour, to be aspired to, undemonstrative, demonstrating service and loyalty and belonging and dignity and being approved of (and all the concomittent repression and rigidity that goes with those ideas)
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Date: 2012-04-11 06:14 pm (UTC)I suspect I shall have to read this - the glorification of death in the cause is a topos so often associated with the Japanese military in the Asia-Pacific Wars, and from what you say the level of internalization has to be comparable.
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Date: 2012-04-11 06:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-12 02:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-18 04:33 pm (UTC)Inbreeding: not just for Kallikaks!