Jean Rhys, Isaac Asimov, and some nightmare scenarios

Carole Angier's biography Jean Rhys: Life and Work mentions two incidents in one of Jean Rhys's novels that could be classed as small-scale nightmare scenarios.

I was reminded of this recently by something I read about tunnels in Isaac Asimov's memoirs; I decided to follow up Carole Angier's leads and look at the novel; the material I found has inspired a few comments.

Sasha's first nightmare 
Carole Angier refers to a horrible dream that Sasha, the main character in Jean Rhys's very depressing autobiographical novel Good Morning Midnight (1939), has on her return to Paris. This is the relevant extract from the novel:

“I am in the passage of a tube station in London. Many people are in front of me; many people are behind me. Everywhere there are placards printed in red letters: This Way to the Exhibition, This Way to the Exhibition. But I don't want the way to the exhibition -I want the way out. There are passages to the right and passages to the left, but no exit sign. Everywhere the fingers point and the placards read: This Way to the Exhibition...The steel finger points along a long stone passage. This Way - This Way - This Way to the Exhibition....”

This is uncannily similar to my own experiences in one or two huge tube stations in London. I still remember the crowds of people in the underground passages walking along like zombies, the long tunnel-like corridors, the flights of stairs, the inadequate and misleading signage and how it all became more and more stressful.

I followed the signs up some steps, along some corridors, round some corners and ended up where I started! I remember thinking to myself, “I don't want the Northern Line, I want the way out”! 

Being unable to find the exit can easily turn into a nightmare. It can feel like being trapped in Hell with no way out. I think that Jean Rhys was remembering her own experience of the London tube system when she described Sasha's bad dream.

Sasha's second nightmare 
The second nightmare incident that Carole Angier mentions happens when Sasha's boss asks her to take a letter to a certain place in the building where she works. She doesn't understand where she has to go but accepts the errand anyway. 

Sasha immediately does the wrong thing:

“I turn and walk blindly through a door. It is a lavatory. They look sarcastic as they watch me going out by the right door.“

Stella Gibbons’s Amy Lee and the nightmare journey

Stella Gibbons lived her entire life in the Hampstead and Highgate area of London; she displays her great knowledge of and love for ‘Ham & High’ and other areas of north London in many of her books. 

Stella Gibbons was surely also familiar from personal experience with the sort of nightmare journeys that are mentioned in several other articles on here; there is a similar but much smaller-scale nightmare episode in her novel My American. 

My American opens with a description of 12-year-old Amy Lee’s visit to Kenwood House in Hampstead on a beautiful autumn day in 1928. Exploring the house and grounds is a wonderful way to spend her birthday, but Amy's journey home is something of an endurance test. 

The nightmare is very short-lived; Amy gets just a tiny taste of what people in other articles got in huge doses, and she soon recovers.

There are some very familiar elements in the account of the return journey: bad decisions, wasted effort, unexpected setbacks, 'difficult' people and being cold, tired, hungry, alone and penniless with darkness coming on. It is these familiar features make her ordeal worth commenting on.

The end of the visit to Kenwood
Amy enjoys her visit to Kenwood very much. However, the day is very cold and when dusk is imminent she decides it is time to go home. 

She now has to face a reality that is full of problems.

She is sick with hunger as she has had nothing to eat since early morning.  

She spent her birthday shilling on a packet of postcards as a souvenir of her visit; now she has almost no money left. Buying something for her collection of mementos rather than saving her money for the practicalities reminds me of Antonia White, whose purchase of an expensive handbag in Vienna left her very short of money for her return journey. 

Stella Benson, two men, and great disillusionment

Strindberg’s ignoring of his initial feelings of mistrust when he met the mystery man who became his ‘former American friend’ has reminded me of what I read about the negative feelings on both sides when the novelist Stella Benson first met the man who was to become her husband.

Reading about various people who fell for a false image and let wishful thinking and other factors distort their perceptions has reminded me of the man who at first made a very positive impression on Stella Benson, only for her to be devastated when she learned that he was not only greatly inferior to but in some ways the exact opposite of what she thought he was.

It is the points, issues and patterns rather than the people that are of interest here; the underlying scenarios, unseen influences and connections are more important than the details.

The information comes from Joy Grant’s biography, which is based on Stella Benson’s letters and diaries.

The first meeting

Stella and her future husband reacted much the same way when they first saw each other. They had premonitions, and not good ones. She didn’t want to go anywhere he was going, and the feeling was mutual: he couldn’t get away fast enough!

They came to revise their opinions of each other, but it might have been better for both of them if they had not ignored their initial misgivings.

Stella Benson’s marriage

Stella Benson, like Stella Gibbons, married a man who was younger than she was. The age gap was five years in Stella Gibbon’s case, but Stella Benson’s husband was only 18 months her junior.

In both cases, the husband’s family was not impressed; the Stellas failed to pass muster in their eyes.

More about Stella Benson’s travel nightmares

The novelist Stella Benson travelled the world. She saw some beautiful buildings and scenery, she gained a variety of new experiences and she met some interesting people. Travelling provided her with plenty of good material for her writing, but she paid a high price in suffering, discomfort and danger.

She turned some of her bad travel experiences into good stories and treated them lightly, presenting them in her articles as amusing and interesting adventures, evidence that she was doing something exciting with her life, rather than as the ordeals and nightmares that many of the incidents undoubtedly were.

This article contains a few more examples of her experiences and some thoughts about the issues that the accounts of her journeys raise. I wonder why she would put herself through so much; I also wonder how much of it she did in the right spirit, as opposed to just going through the motions. I wonder whether she thought that it was all worth it. 

In Stella Benson’s own words

“Nobody but a true fool tries to cross the United States in a Ford car in the middle of winter."

“Also we had another loss. Money in an inner coat pocket is safe enough in circumstances that permit a man to stand dry and upright as his Maker intended him to stand. But tip that man in and out of a Ford foundering in floods, load him with wet kit-bags, bend him like a hairpin, bereave him of hope and dignity—and where is that money at the end of the day? Where indeed is it? We had nothing now but a few dollars, which I found, sodden, in my breeches pocket.“

“Arriving that evening at a small cheerless hamlet, cold, soaked and exhausted, we were given a room full of holes, through which the draughts whistled... We were soaked, shivering, and sad.“

Stella Benson and some travel nightmares

In addition to being a novelist, Stella Benson was a travel writer.

Despite her poor health, she took on many challenging journeys. She wrote articles about her travels and later compiled them into books. She also logged everything in her diaries. These records give many examples of the dangers and difficulties that she met and the risks that she took while on the road.

There is one particular episode that looks like a nightmare scenario to me. It has some familiar elements.

The walking tour nightmare

While Stella Benson was exploring the US in 1918, a new female friend in New England proposed a walking tour.

The final leg involved walking 18 miles through the night to catch a train at 05:30.

They left very little margin for error, which was a big mistake. They got lost and went several miles out of their way; it took a while to find someone to put them back on the right road. At 4:00 am they still had six miles or so to go. The backwoods people were infuriatingly unhelpful: no one would give them a lift.

They had only 15 minutes left when they met a man in a milk cart. They offered him money to turn round and take them to the station; after pondering for a while, he refused. Then they met a man in an empty car and waved and shouted. He slowed down a little then laughed, told them to get off the road and drove on.

When they were one mile from the station, they heard the puffing of the train and saw smoke; they gave up, assuming that they were too late. They walked slowly towards the station, feeling awful because after all their efforts they had missed their train.

When they were within 100 yards of the station, they noticed that the train had backed in again. They made one last, desperate, torturing effort, running as never before, and reached the platform only to see the back of the train disappear round the bend.

“Defeated and robbed of pride we threw ourselves on our backs in mid-platform.”

Stella Benson and the nightmare scenario

Joy Grant’s biography of Stella Benson makes her life seem like one long nightmare scenario!

Stella’s deafness, depression, chronic poor health and frequent medical emergencies made much of her life a misery. 

Many of even her worst experiences would not seem so bad to strong, healthy, ‘real’ people with plenty of resources; other ordeals - the Zeppelin bombing raids on London during World War I for example - are not very relevant because she did not experience them as an individual: they were simultaneously endured by many other people. However, one or two very painful episodes in her life stand out; they are of particular interest because of some familiar elements.  

This article features a minor incident that affected her very badly.

The release of Sylvia Pankhurst

By the spring of 1914, Stella Benson had started a new life of independence. She came to live in London. She found work and became involved with the cause of women’s suffrage.

This led to an assignment that turned into a nightmare for her. Acting on instructions previously given, she went to Holloway Prison early one morning to witness the release of leading suffragette Sylvia Pankhurst.

From her diary:

“The policemen laughed at me, and pointed me out to their friends, the wardresses came out to shriek with laughter too. I got fainter and fainter...at last I began actually collapsing on the doorstep of a sort of church. The police, thinking it was a ruse, were more and more amused. I felt I should never see a friendly face again.”

Stella Benson cried and cried when she got back to her boarding house, fearing that she might not be strong enough for the life she hoped to lead.

On top of all the horrors she had endured, she was distressed to learn that Miss Pankhurst had been released the night before and her suffragette society had not bothered to let her know.

Marianne and the nightmare scenario

Stella Benson and Charlotte Brontë are not the only people whose descriptions of nightmare scenarios have inspired some articles.

The Marianne Trilogy by Sheri S. Tepper gives an example of someone who, just like Lucy Snowe in Villette, gets into the exact nightmare situation that she dreads the most.

In the article about the Marianne books I mentioned a laundry world. This alien dream world appears in Marianne, the Madame, and the Momentary Gods, the second book in the trilogy. The city that Marianne has been banished to by the evil witch Madame Delubovoska has a very strange attribute: it changes its name and rearranges itself every day around midnight, so the inhabitants need a new map for each day.

The rules are very strict; maps must be bought on the previous day, and it is a both a crime and extremely dangerous not to have one. Being without a map is something to be avoided at all costs.

Marianne runs a public laundry in the city. Her worst fear comes upon her one day when she forgets to buy her map for the next day. Despite increasingly desperate efforts in dangerous surroundings, she fails to get a new map.  This puts her into even more danger, and there is a good chance of permanent homelessness and destitution.

It all ends with a safe return to the laundry, but not before she has gone through a terrible ordeal which she has had to cope with entirely on her own.

Charlotte Brontë and the nightmare scenario

Stella Benson’s fantasy novella Living Alone (1919) ends with the arrival in New York of her autobiographical character Sarah Brown, who is ill, alone and penniless.

This scene in the book is my idea of a nightmare scenario.

Stella Benson put something of her own experience into the New York episode. She travelled by ship to America in July 1917. She had more in the way of resources than Sarah Brown did, but it was still an ordeal. Approaching New York Harbour, she was:

“...sick with excitement and fright at such an unknown day before me.”

She wrote in her diary on the evening of her first day in New York:

“I never wish for a more wretched thirty hours than this last.”

She was so overcome by loneliness, confusion and the great heat that she started to cry. She awoke the next morning from dreams of death and despair.

The Living Alone scenario and others from Stella Benson’s life sound familiar; they remind me of other writers’ accounts of permutations of isolation, desperation, dangerous situations, going into the unknown, lack of resources and dreadful inner states.

The many common elements make me wonder whether these scenarios are engineered, perhaps subconsciously or perhaps by sinister unseen influences.

Some of Charlotte Brontë’s writings are of particular interest here; they say to me that she knew the terrible feelings well and had experienced a few nightmare scenarios of her own.

Help and hindrance: luck and chance or unseen influences?

Stella Gibbons’s novel The Shadow of a Sorcerer has inspired a series of articles. A minor incident mentioned in one of them has reminded me of a similar but complementary incident in the life of a colleague.

Hindrance

As described elsewhere, Esmé Scarron had to travel from Austria to Venice to get his final answer from the young girl Meg. He was in a rather desperate state and uncertain about what awaited him as he drove over the mountains.

He was delayed when he reached Venice; he finally rushed into his palazzo to find that his ex-wife and daughter had got there first and had been speaking against him and revealing his secrets to Meg and her mother.

I can’t remember exactly what happened to delay his arrival - someone may have stolen the last gondola from under him the way some people steal taxis! This anonymous person - Scarron said he would be forever accursed or something like that - greatly inconvenienced Scarron and may even have helped to sabotage his plans.

This was the last in a series of interventions, some of which helped to further Scarron’s evil plans and some of which helped to hinder them.

Perhaps the outcome would have been exactly the same if the delaying man had never existed; perhaps it was just all down to bad luck and chance. However, I suspect that unseen influences were at work.

Which side was behind the intervention? Good forces like to prevent evil from operating; evil forces like to sabotage everything and everyone including their own: being on the dark side is no protection.

Reading about this fictional incident brought something similar but positive from real life to mind.

Robin Jarvis’s witchmaster Nathaniel Crozier: Part II

The end of Nathaniel Crozier’s visit to Whitby

We left Nathaniel Crozier just after he had tortured and killed poor old Mr Roper.

His next evil deed is to send the horrible fish demon he has secured to his service to kill Ben so that he can then destroy the magical artefact that Mr Roper passed on to the little boy.

Luckily, the monster follows the wrong trail; it kills another boy instead. ‘By chance’, this is someone who has bullied Ben in the past.

Miss Boston returns from a harrowing visit to London, and finds that all hell has broken loose because Nathaniel Crozier has destroyed two of Whitby’s guardians. Once again, she decides that she must confront an evil newcomer who is about to destroy Whitby. This at the age of 92: if she isn’t a good role model for older ladies, I don’t know who is.

Miss Boston knows that she has taken on what looks like an impossible task, but she sees it as a good sign, a sign of weakness, that the appalling man wanted her out of the way and used his agents to try to destroy her in London.

She has an advantage in that Nathaniel Crozier underestimates her. He never has a good word to say about anyone - he called his wife Roselyn stupid and greedy and Miss Boston an odious hag - and he thinks of Miss Boston as a senile, dabbling amateur.

Crozier would get on well with Lord Voldemort, who also underestimates the opposition and believes that “there is no good and evil, there is nothing but power and those too weak to seek it”. Crozier boasts of being a master of control and domination; he scorns limits and warnings – they are for the weak.