Writers: three views from L. M. Montgomery

Previous articles have covered some of L.M. Montgomery’s thoughts about reading and writing.

Her short story The Waking of Helen (1901) is a depressing account of a doomed girl. It is of interest because it contains a good summary of three possible ways of looking at well-known writers.

We can view them as elite, fortunate and noble people who are far above the masses; we can respect, admire, even worship them for their achievements and envy them for their position, popularity and the immortality of their names.

We can view them with disappointment, disillusionment, disapproval and disgust when we become aware of their real characters and read about some of the appalling things that they believed, said and did.

We can feel sadness and pity for their unhappy lives when we learn what they had to endure and realise that for them, fame and fortune were no compensation for what they lost or never had.

These ways of looking at writers are not mutually exclusive.

Here are some relevant extracts from the story:

100 years of John Buchan’s Mr Standfast

This day, August 26th, is John Buchan’s birthday. This article marks the 144th anniversary of his birth.

This year, 2019, is the 100th anniversary of the first publication of John Buchan’s spy thriller Mr Standfast.  

Mr Standfast is the third book in the series of five Richard Hannay adventures; it follows Greenmantle and precedes The Three Hostages.

I think of Greenmantle and The Three Hostages as being the best of the Richard Hannay books; I find Mr Standfast and The Island of Sheep the least enjoyable to read; I put The Thirty-Nine Steps in the middle of the two groups.

The main problem with Mr Standfast is the effect that it doesn’t have. I find it less enthralling than other books in the series. To me, Mr Standfast is more of the same; it is The Thirty-Nine Steps with World War I scenes added.

Although most of the small amount of inspirational material that Mr Standfast contains has already appeared in two previous articles, there is still a little more to say about the book. I want to highlight a few quotations and scenes that I particularly like.

Lost in Fairyland: Kenneth Grahame and J. M. Barrie

This article is a short addition to the recent one about Fairyland, in which mention is made in general terms of people who remain stuck in Fairyland and never grow up.

This topic was inspired by Terry Pratchett’s amusing fantasy novel The Wee Free Men. The chapter in which the young witch Tiffany Aching meets two boys who are trapped in Fairyland is called Lost Boys.

This reminds me of J. M. Barrie, Peter Pan and the Llewelyn Davies boys. J. M. Barrie and the Lost Boys: The Real Story Behind Peter Pan is the title of a book by Andrew Birkin.

Kenneth Grahame is the second specific example of an eternal boy that comes immediately to mind.

Barrie and Grahame immortalised their names, created magical worlds and enhanced the lives of millions with their works, but all was not well behind the scenes and below the surface.

A final warning from Strindberg’s Inferno

This is the final article in the series that was originally inspired by Colin Wilson’s references in The Occult to Swedish playwright August Strindberg, his string of misfortunes and his autobiographical novel Inferno.

If there is one message to be taken from Inferno, it is a warning against habitually dealing with people and getting through life by using occult as opposed to natural methods. This article has something to say about the two ways of operating.

It is not just a matter of ethics; the backfiring feature and the long-term detrimental effects on the occult practitioners and their lives are also very relevant.

As has been mentioned previously, Strindberg regretted frivolously playing with hidden forces and warned people against doing the same. He said:

“Above all things, beware of occultism, that caricature of science.”

This article summarises some of the consequences to Strindberg of playing with fire in this way.

Inner torment and outer disaster

Strindberg endured much inner distress during his life. He also experienced many misfortunes and some major disasters. Not all of this was inevitable; he brought some of it on himself by attracting malign influences into his life.

While only a few of Strindberg’s long string of misfortunes can be directly attributed to his attempt to make his little girl ill by the use of black magic, many of the unpleasant things that happened to, through and around him are likely to be directly or ultimately connected to the abuse of occult powers on various occasions by him and some of the people in his life. As for his inner state, while some of his suffering was innate his occult practices made it much worse.

More occult-related damage to August Strindberg’s family

This is yet another article in the series inspired by the Swedish playwright August Strindberg’s autobiographical novel Inferno.

As described here, Strindberg made two of his older children very ill when his attempt to influence his little girl by the use of psychological black magic missed its mark.  

This article highlights two more examples from Inferno of the harmful effects that occult activities had on his family.

The two dabblers in the occult

Inferno has many references to the occult and its practitioners.

It is not always clear what aspect of the occult Strindberg is talking about. He could mean mediums and spiritualism or even just metaphysical books rather than ill-wishing, cursing and other forms of black magic in the case of two women connected to him who ‘studied occultism’.

Strindberg says this about his mother-in-law and aunt:

“Both starting from a neutral point of view as regards religion had begun to study occultism. From that moment onwards they suffered from sleepless nights, mysterious accidents accompanied by terrible fears, and at last, attacks of madness. The invisible furies pursue their prey up to the very gates of the city of refuge—religion.”

Attacks of madness? This sounds remarkably like what happened to the friend of Strindberg’s youth and his family, not to mention Strindberg himself.

Sleepless nights, terrible fears and mysterious accidents? These come with the territory.

Being hounded by invisible furies is a very good description of what happens to people who attract the attention of malevolent forces.

Some people contaminate everything and everyone they touch. 

Were the two women’s unwise activities and the devastating results caused or influenced by bad energy and malign forces that surrounded Strindberg?

We can’t be sure, but it seems likely.

Terry Pratchett, L. M Montgomery and Fairyland

Terry Pratchett’s description of Fairyland in The Wee Free Men has reminded me of a passage I came across recently in one of L. M. Montgomery’s books. She too has something to say about the place.

Their views and descriptions are very different. Terry Pratchett is all negative while L. M. Montgomery is all positive.

Terry Pratchett describes a kind of hell universe that people are relieved to escape from while L. M. Montgomery describes a heavenly paradise that produces an unbearable sense of loss in people who have been banished from it forever.

Terry Pratchett’s Fairyland is an actual world than can be visited by a few select people while L. M. Montgomery’s, although not open to most people, is an inner world.

Terry Pratchett’s Fairyland drains real worlds and has nothing to give while L. M. Montgomery’s world is a wellspring of wonders that can be brought out into our world and shared.

L. M. Montgomery’s description of Fairyland leaves out something important that Terry Pratchett highlights.