nineveh_uk | Random DLS ponderings

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Random DLS ponderings

Leafing through some DLS for dialogue help in the course of drafting some fic, a couple of paragraphs struck me.

The first is from the short stories. I don't read them much - they're not particularly good short stories - but I ought to read them more, as they have some interesting little passages in them. Like this one from The Unprincipled Affair of the Practical Joker.

[Peter is staying in a grand hotel somewhere-or-other that liners dock from Africa (Southampton?), and Mrs Ruyslaender has spotted his name on the register and, desperate, come to his suite at 11 pm to try to get his help on a case. Bunter admits her to the sitting room.]

The man stepped noiselessly to the bedroom door and passed, shutting it behind him. The lock, however, failed to catch, and Mrs Ruyslaender caught the conversation.

"Pardon me, my lord, a lady has called. She mentioned no appointment, so I considered it better to acquaint your lordship."

"Excellent discretion," said a voice. It had a slow, sarcastic intonation, which brought a painful flush to Mrs Ruyslaender's cheek. "I never make appointments. Do I know the lady?"

"No, my lord. But - hem - I know her by sight, my lord. It is Mrs Ruyslaender."

"Oh, the diamond merchant's wife. Well, find out tactfully what it's all about, and, unless it's urgent, ask her to call tomorrow."

The valet's remark was inaudible, but the reply was:

"Don't be coarse, Bunter."

*

I assume that Peter is still being sarcastic here, and not actually ticking Bunter off in the final sentence - it would be a bit much if he were, given that he started it. There are other passages of what Peter and Bunter and Peter and Parker talking about women/sex within the books, but I think that this is the most obviously blokish one.

*

Second, Busman's Honeymoon.

[Chapter 4, Bunter and Peter the morning after, not quite a page after Bunter's "I trust your lordship found everything satisfactory?"]

"Then buzz off and get breakfast before I get like the Duke of Wellington, nearly reduced to a skellington.... I say, Bunter."

"My lord?"

"I'm damned sorry you're having all this trouble."

"Don't mention it, my lord. So long as your lordship is satisfied - "

"Yes. All right, Bunter. Thanks."

He dropped his hand lightly on the servant's shoulder in what might have been a gesture of affection or dismissal as you chose to take it, and stood looking thoughtfully into the fireplace till his wife rejoined him.

*

All things considered, perhaps it's a good thing that the body turned up in a cellar and gave them all something to talk about...

Just spell it out for a moment. There's Bunter coming in, asking in code if Peter had a good night's not-sleep, and Peter giving a "you cannot seriously think I'm going to answer that" response and changing the subject. Then they waffle on about business (a bit awkwardly? A little excessively normal?) before Peter appears to feel guilty, calls Bunter back, apologises, ostensibly for the trouble (this the man who in the past has booked a holiday cottage with no indoor plumbing at all without remorse), Bunter brings up - something - again, gets an answer, and the final ambiguous gesture of reassurance/don't need you anymore, and Peter stares at the fireplace Bunter has just relaid mulling over - something - the options being presumably (1) yes, that was a highly satisfactory night, or (2) Oh God, is this about to be a bit difficult?

All of which I've thought before, and tended to assume that Peter is intending to be sympathetic if abstracted. What I haven't thought about before is the implication of Bunter potentially taking it seriously as a dismissal. It certainly makes Peter's laughing about the morning's Humorous Soot/Sink Incident an awful lot harsher from Bunter's POV, and adds greater force to his being off-kilter over the next few days and the absolute triumph when he beats Harriet to be the one wanted once again. No wonder the Duchess wonders how things are going after talking to him.

***

And yet people still think that Bunter fantasises about racehorses. Well, I suppose they have big noses and are famously well-endowed. (Do you think I'd get away on the Yahoo list with "Bunter has a dirty night out in the Denver stables" on the grounds that it if you don't accept anything at all is going on re. Peter then something must be going on re. Equus caballus?)

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Wait, what? Bunter fantasizing about racehorses? Who got that from what? *boggles*

The scene in Busman's Honeymoon where Bunter is triumphant over Peter needing him rather than Harriet amuses me for another reason. Remember pre-wedding, the discussion between Harriet and Peter about "obey" and Peter saying he would never give his wife orders unless the house was on fire?

"Bunter--no, I shall want you." He saw Harriet and spoke to her as though she had been his footman. "Here, you, go and fasten the door at the top of the back stair. Don't let her hear you if you can help it. Here are the house-keys. Lock the doors, front and back. Make sure that Ruddle and Puffett and Crutchley are all inside. If anyone says anything, those are my orders. Then bring the keys back--do you understand? ... Bunter, take the steps and see if you can find anything in the way of a hook or nail in the wall or ceiling on that side of the chimney-place."

Bunter is twice addressed by name, Harriet only as "you." Harriet gets very explicit, step-by-step directions, Bunter gets a general instruction. Bunter definitely has every reason to feel that he's won here.

Remember pre-wedding, the discussion between Harriet and Peter about "obey" and Peter saying he would never give his wife orders unless the house was on fire?

LOL! I think we can definitely say that Harriet has made her bed. On the other hand, by this stage of the game she seems to rather like lying on it, so perhaps it's not quite as ironic as it seems.

Bunter definitely wins here, 'tis true.

I think Harriet and Peter are going to have some conflicts in the future about this particular bed.

My mother informs me that goosefeather beds are lovely and soft at the start of the night, but become hot and uncomfortable later...

Mm, yes. I'm always a bit annoyed at the contrast between Peter/Harriet and Charles/Mary, with each of the women giving up her own social class in favor of her husband's. Perhaps Peter would have been happier with an arrangement of someone else controlling his money, doling out to him an amount equal to Harriet's royalties. Or not.

I only hope that Peter's three pages of sensible comment to Harriet included the lines "I can't honestly recommend the sort of set-up my sister has, putting her in an entirely false position and tenable only because she hates opening school fetes, and enjoys playing at housekeeping and cooking fish. I do not wish to cook fish." I can cope with Harriet's moving into Peter's circles, because she actually benefits. I accept that at the time, _socially_ Parker can't move into Mary's class. But Parker and Mary's financial arrangement is bloody stupid (though I think DLS implies it is - it is SO convoluted). If she really wants to be a middle-class housewife, why don't they at least use her money to buy themselves a nice house? But no, it's all about limiting Mary to salve Parker's pride, and it's irreversible. At least Harriet continues to earn her own income and could choose not to spend Peter's money - and according to a DLS letter, it's her income, postwar when the Estate/other income is way down, that keeps them paying super-tax, which is a nice consolation.

The worst thing about Mary's financial arrangements is that it's all so phony. Peter and Gerald have control of her money, but if Mary came to them and said "Look, something's happened, I need my money," do you honestly think either of them would say no? So the only thing keeping her from the money is her own scruples, and if her scruples are enough why bother with the legal rigamarole?

I like the idea of Harriet's money keeping them in the style to which Peter is accustomed after the war.

it's all so phony

Absolutely - it feels to me as if she's somehow "playing at being middle class". Even if the stuff is in "trust" for the children, with P and G as the trustees the scope must be pretty broad.

Also, you have just given me a fic idea, thank you!

Oh, yay!

Who got that from what? *boggles*

It's an entertainingly desperate take on the passage tinx_r quotes below, in which Bunter is described as thinking about a racehorse in order not to think about Peter (let us ignore the logic fail of why he needs to stop thinking about Peter if it's not on his mind in the first place, but there you go).

I'd not connected the giving orders and obey bit, but that's a good point. Harriet's reduced to a footsoldier, whilst Bunter is the comrade-in-arms. I do like that his victory is marked by the fact that he is able to hide it even more than usual even whilst mentally punching the air and shouting "Me! Me! Me!". Equilibrium restored.

*joins the boggling party*

If he's thinking about a literal racehorse then I'm literally a Dutchman. WTF?

*boggles a bit more*

I'd say that Harriet is reduced to a private, while Bunter is (and always shall be) Peter's sergeant. Bunter isn't an equal but he is an intelligent agent--he gets told what, but not how. (Old military joke: you're a captain and have a sergeant and ten privates. What is the correct way to guard the perimeter of your camp? Answer: Say "Sergeant, guard the perimeter.")

I never even thought of reading the racehorse passage as anything other than Bunter trying desperately not to imagine Peter and Harriet having sex.

If I wrote more DLS fan fiction I would be inclined, I think, to write the working out of the Harriet-Peter-Bunter triangle, eventually resulting in Peter keeping Bunter as the lover he can order around and Harriet as the wife he can't.

The private/sergeant analogy works well, I think.

to write the working out of the Harriet-Peter-Bunter triangle, eventually resulting in Peter keeping Bunter as the lover he can order around and Harriet as the wife he can't

Write that fic and I will give you my hypothetical first born. Maybe even my real first born if I can arrange it.

I wouldn't hold my breath on the story, though I wouldn't mind getting your first born either. *grin*

That was an interesting exegesis of some interesting lines (I especially like, "Oh God, is this about to be a bit difficult?")

if you don't accept anything at all is going on re. Peter

It's the naked-dousing-under-the-scullery-pump that makes me think that DLS intended us to see something "re. Peter". Well, that and the "savage libido" line. When you consider that Sir Impey Biggs's sub-text is established on the basis of a lot less, one wonders why she felt impelled to include those particular scenes, if not to make the young fangirl's fancy idly turn to thoughts of slash.

I find myself really not knowing what Peter's thinking at this point.

the naked-dousing-under-the-scullery-pump

Thinking of which draws me back to Peter's line about revenge. What, precisely, is he being revenged for? The obvious conclusion, if we're assuming that all is tolerably right in the world, is the water being very cold and the scrubbing vigorous, in which case Crutchley and Ruddle are fair play and Bunter's stifled response is a humorous furious "You bastard". But if either P or B is not quite easy in mind here, then it's more complicated. Bunter has not, we trust, been scrubbed naked, but he has potentially been humilated - is that in play? Mrs Ruddle will be sexualised in a Bunterian context later (when Peter declines her for a double-date, but says Harriet have Bunter if she wants, with a hark back to her original "I wish I could have married him"). What does Bunter think Peter is thinking?

I'm sure there is more that could be dragged out about the pump, too. It's a putting-the-groom-to-bed thing, and a horseplay male-bonding thing, and, well, it's a pump. Why not just a decent sink and a scrubbing brush and leave him to it?

DLS is far too good an author - and no-where near naive enough a woman - for this not to be intentional.

well, it's a pump.

Exactly. Couldn't have put it better myself.

I suppose I shall have to go back and re-read the relevant bits if I'm to say anything intelligent about what either Peter or Bunter is thinking. The trouble is, I really don't like BH. However, combing through it looking for examples of "these attached people" being "rather difficult" shoud be an antidote to all that saccharine, at least.

There's a short Bunter's POV version of the pump scene, full of double-entrendre, just begging to be written.

As you may have guessed, I do like BH, possibly because I am quite soppy at heart, and because I enjoy unpicking it. And the end. And though I know what you mean about "these attached people can be rather difficult", how, what else is the DD supposed to put it ;-)

how, what else is the DD supposed to put it

It's one of those moments of Class Divide because, of course, from her point of view it's entirely reasonable. But it always makes me think of that poor old man who had looked after General Fentiman for years and cried when he died, but still didn't count in any way that mattered.

but still didn't count in any way that mattered

And though a "very attached and superior fellow" only gets £50 in the Will.

Isn't that all Bunter gets in Ali Baba as well? Admittedly it was only a fake will, and therefore presumably reflected other people's expectations rather than what Peter was actually planning to leave Bunter, but it's noticeable that it's about what he spends on one set of chessmen for Harriet.

Au contraire, Bunter does rather well in Ali Baba - an annuity of £500 a year, and the lease of the flat (which either must mean the leasehold OR the rent must cost an awful lot less, given that his continuing to live there not being really weird is a requirement of the plot).

Question: had the chessmen not been smashed, and Harriet turned Peter down, would she have felt obliged to return them? Or is asking for them essentially saying that she's not, ultimately, going to turn him down?

Harriet's accepting his advice on Wilfred is her saying she's not ultimately going to turn him down and that's what makes him risk proposing, when at the start of that conversation he was only asking leave to go back to the beginning and start again properly. So the chessmen have to be earlier in the thawing process and not as decisive IMO.

As asking for them at all was a gift from her to him, maybe the rules of etiquette have to go into reverse and she gets to keep them, as throwing them back at him would be even more insulting than turning him down.

Or is asking for them essentially saying that she's not, ultimately, going to turn him down?

I don't know that it's a definite commitment, as such, but I don't think Harriet would have felt able to ask for them if she hadn't been willing to accept that this was raising his hopes, so in that sense, yes, it's a sign that she will ultimately accept him.

I'm not sure about returning them - what a complex question of etiquette, fraught with dangers! I don't suppose she would have wanted to keep them if she'd turned Peter down. And it would certainly feel - at least to me - like having accepted a gift under false pretences. Perhaps she could give them to a charity shop :-)

there is most emphatically *something* re Peter... I give you:

He [Bunter] had (with what exertions!) brought his favourite up to the tape and must leave him now to make the running, but no respect for the proprieties could prevent his sympathetic imagination from following the cherished creature every step of the way. With a slight sigh he drew the candle towards him, took out a fountain-pen and a writing-pad, and began a letter to his mother. The performance of this filial duty might, he thought, serve to calm his mind.

I rest my case.

:D

The case is indeed very well rested.

Though I think your comclusions are emininently reasonable, I think you also have to look at the 'dismissal' factor from the job POV. I mean, I know that's obvious and that DLS deals with it explicitly in the text, but it's a complicating factor, if Bunter is worried about losing *everything* - not just LP, but also home, hearth, and salary, all at once. Obviously he'd have gotten a glowing reference but having to start all over in a new job while emotionally bereaved would be that much worse.

Mind if I PM you? There's a fic I want to write and I don't have my books here - if you've been going through yours, maybe you can offer a suggestion or two.

Good point about bringing the job into it. Bunter presumably knows that Peter is never going to sack him (and financially, given Bunter's canonically high salary I would except him to have sufficient savings not to have to find another job in service if he preferred to set up as something else), but he doesn't know that Harriet won't want to if she decides she doesn't want someone who knows Peter rather better than she does hanging around. And though he says pre-wedding that he's sure it'll be fine, he doesn't actually know how he's going to find what is undoubtedly an upheaval. Really, he copes pretty impressively with what's got to be a tough few months.

PM away! I am always delighted to consult on LPW fic.

I'm not entirely sure he does know that - apparently it was very common for a bachelor to change his staff upon marriage (I think Jeeves discusses it too) and while you'd think LPW would be above that, I've seen at lesat a few men apparently change personality upon marriage. (Or more likely, show a side none of their friends had seen before.)

Bunter offers to resign in Strong Poison the instant he realises Peter has fallen splat for Harriet because (I think, my copy has vanished) the lady may wish to have a say in the staff of the establishment. Peter tells him not to be daft, although this could be seen as Peter not wanting to count his chickens re. Harriet when she is still in prison with no hope of reprieve rather than Peter reassuring Bunter that this won't ever happen.

Do we assume this was enough for Bunter never to offer to resign again on Harriet grounds? Or did it come up in that pre-wedding Peter-Bunter conversation we don't get to see? It's a pity Bunter didn't get to see the Dowager Duchess and Harriet crying over him. It might have helped.

It might have helped

Or it might have made things worse. To be pitied by one's rival would be truly dreadfu.

*splutter*

Really they are not crying over Bunter at all but over "not wanting Peter to lose anything". Anything rather than anyone, that is. This isn't that helpful to Bunter either, but he might be reassured by evidence that Harriet is not going to see to it that he's sacked the minute she crosses the threshold.

he might be reassured by evidence that Harriet is not going to see to it that he's sacked the minute she crosses the threshold.

Well, since she hasn't said she wants a completely new set of staff, he's probably fairly confident she isn't going to do that. On the other hand, who knows what will happen if Peter fails to satisfy her and she gets all bitter and frustrated...

who knows what will happen if Peter fails to satisfy her and she gets all bitter and frustrated...

Obviously she will turn to his virile manservant for consolation.

That's assuming Bunter hasn't already walked out because she left the cap off the toothpaste one time too many. Not to mention continuing to pack Wrong (what's the significance of the repacking, by the way? Byond the harmless sense of having to get used to servants seeing intimate bits of your life in a way that can be quite discomfiting at first?)

So she doesn't show Peter up when her luggage is unpacked by servants at Duke's Denver? Can't have gossip in the servants' hall about her new ladyship clearly having packed her own suitcase.

I am also re-reading BH for more insight into what on earth Bunter is thinking for nefarious purposes of my own (but haven't got very far). It's a pity the longest sustained bit of Bunter POV is to his mother and therefore unreliable evidence. I'd never noticed the end of that morning after scene until you pointed it out.

It makes Peter telling Harriet to ask Bunter about lunch and then congratulate him when it turns out he's already organised it all seem even more of an attempt at smoothing the way for all three of them. Though it is Harriet who brings up the question of Bunter in the first place. She's been worried about what Bunter would feel about it all since two days after the engagement. Has Peter only just thought about it?

As to "following the cherished creature every step of the way", apart from writing to his mother to take his mind off it, Bunter has also found and booked a chimney sweep, sourced the makings of breakfast (or did they bring their own eggs) and arranged for the delivery of the papers by a convoluted process all by eight o'clock in the morning. Did he go out for a long walk the instant he woke up and meet half the village? He's either trying desperately to prove he's indispensable or he's sublimating something. Or just trying to keep occupied until they bloody get out of bed.

Has Peter only just thought about it?

Harriet - at this point, as opposed to with the DD - is asking about procedures a bit here, I think. She's never lived with personal servants in the same way as Peter, even assuming that her childhood home involved a maid and a cook, Bunter is still different, being Peter's manservant-acting-as-general-factotum. So she's not wanting to tread on his toes here professionally as much as personally, in a rather odd situation. We know that Peter's thought about it in general, in that the DD recruits the London servants, but there doesn't really seem to be much of suggestion that he has thought about how Harriet and Peter will cope with each other personally until the Moment Arrives. Which is the benefit of his position, in that he hasn't had to whilst B and H both separately have.

Or just trying to keep occupied until they bloody get out of bed.

Re. the early morning, you forget finding the fire-dogs in the coal house, pumping up the cistern, and putting the oil stove in order. Given the ill-soundproofed ceiling, perhaps he was looking for outdoor jobs to do. He sources eggs and bacon from the visiting baker. (My God! Eight o'clock. Allowing for Peter arriving upstairs at c. 12:30am, and hoping that the "night's proceedings" - at each end of the night - involve a bit of foreplay, how much sleep have they not got?)

I look forward to the outcome of the nefarious purposes of your own. I think there's quite a bit of Bunter POV tucked away in the text, but it lurks in the middle of things and is easily missable. And it still often doesn't say exactly what he's thinking.

Edited 2010-04-20 14:36 (UTC)

Harriet is asking about procedures a bit here

But Peter could have said "Oh, Bunter just gets on with things, don't worry about it" rather than specifically telling her to compliment him on his organisational skills (I was going to say 'butter him up a bit' but there are too many filthy minds about). It does look as though he is trying to um... ease things along for the Harriet-Bunter side of the triangle that he's only just thought of.

And yes, now I look, conversations with the baker and the milkman account for most of the logistics so Bunter didn't have to go outside the house. But if the bacon isn't being fried until 8, how early is he talking to the baker or the earlier milkman? And how much earlier than that does Harriet wake up/is woken up by Bunter moving furniture about? You are quite right, it's not love or vicarage sherry, it's sleep deprivation.

And I am going to have to read the whole canon again, I can see.

Edited 2010-04-20 16:37 (UTC)

Filthy mind yourself! But true, the triangle having struck him at last, Peter does seem to be trying to grease the wheels.

And I am going to have to read the whole canon again, I can see.
There are worse fates.

He's either trying desperately to prove he's indispensable or he's sublimating something.

I'm not so sure about that. I think working miracles comes naturally to Bunter, and no further explanation is needed than that miracles needed to be worked, so he did. After all, In Clouds of Witness he not only held Peter's weight in the mud for half the night, he also managed to get up early in the morning to clean and press his clothes afterwards, and to make sure there was breakfast.

*Considers packing entire Sayers collection in suitcase*

If I keep talking about it, I will have to write it. I do have about 12 hours thinking time on trains this weekend.

I do have about 12 hours thinking time on trains this weekend

*rubs hands in anticipation*

In Clouds of Witness he not only held Peter's weight in the mud for half the night

Yes, but this is magic fandom angst mud, in which the weight is only the weight of their Manly Pain.

I must get mud into the Angsty Fic of Doom. Maybe Peter can stare at the vegetable patch in fear and loathing.

I must get mud into the Angsty Fic of Doom. Maybe Peter can stare at the vegetable patch in fear and loathing.

I did start a prequel to Fear and Loathing in the Vegetable Patch, aka Mud, Mud, Glorious Mud, but I've got stuck :-(

I did start a prequel...but I've got stuck

Can you not gird yourself and leap free in one mighty bound, leaving your wellies behind you?

And tell more!

It's another attempt at Peter and Bunter sitting in a shell-hole - I'm convinced there's a story to be told with that setting, if only I can find it - but the backstory is that they're on their way back from that mission where Peter is disguised as a German officer, and I'm damned if I can find convincing way of fitting that in, without it being all "As you know, Bob..." (or, indeed all, "As I absolutely shouldn't tell you, Sergeant, seeing as you don't have security clearance...").

I have done the angsty mud bit, and that works quite well (insofar as one can ever tell these things) but the plot is proving a real bugger.

I'm damned if I can find convincing way of fitting that in

Very frustrating. To coin a phrase, What Would Dorothy Do? If Bunter - as opposed to the reader - has to know, could he just guess? A leak from a superior officer and he puts two and two together?

I seem to be jotting down notes for Bunter/Gherkins (not, I stress, the vegetable, oh God am I now going to have to write a spoof along those lines) instead of getting on with writing a lengthy report that is a lot less fun. It must be the floppy-haired public school types playing croquet in the garden distracting me.

What Would Dorothy Do?

Dorothy very sensibly limited herself to dropping a few hints! It's an amazingly effective technique and I have Taken Note.

Bunter doesn't actually have to know, just the reader - I did try writing earlier scenes but it all got a bit saggy and out of hand, so I think it has to be a vignette and adhere to the Unities. And I suppose I could leave the plot as Hints myself, but it seems like cheating, somehow.

I am greatly looking forward to Bunter Enjoys Pickled Gherkins (though I should have thought floppy-haired public school types playing croquet would be inspirational rather than otherwise).

Thanks for the remark about what the reader has to know - I've realised I can reduce the whole mission-explanation to a single sentence, and it now looks finishable.

Hurrah for finding an elegant solution. I shall now await the finished result with bated breath.

The floppy-haired ones are inspirational as far as Sayers goes, but not, alas, the financial situation of the Theology Faculty.

Bunter Enjoys Pickled Gherkins

His mouth closed around the glistening length, savouring its taste...

The floppy-haired ones are inspirational as far as Sayers goes, but not, alas, the financial situation of the Theology Faculty.

ROTFL! But really, with the Theology faculty, surely one has a right to Divine Inspiration?

His mouth closed around the glistening length, savouring its taste...

Oh, YUCK!!!

surely one has a right to Divine Inspiration

I'd sign a deal with the devil to have the thing finished in the next half hour.

Be grateful I couldn't be bothered to write a whole scene of gherkin badfic ;-)

I am also re-reading BH for more insight into what on earth Bunter is thinking for nefarious purposes of my own

Hooray!

(deleted comment)

Oh yes, there's definitely a lot going on in the background in BH. What's interesting is the extent to which it isn't always obvious. The novel's origins as a play, it seems to me, are evident not just in the rather visual and enclosed murder plot, but the way that the background functions more as background than in some of the previous novels.

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Random DLS ponderings

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Busman's menage a trois

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