After the energy of Officers and Gentlemen , I am afraid Unconditional Surrender was something of a disappointment. It rather feels as though its primary focus was on closing the story’s various strands. It does this quite well, although I found myself still rather mystified by Ludovic’s odd behaviour.
There is a continuation of the British bumbling incompetence and of the injustices of Guy’s fate. When Ludovic starts behaving very oddly, and it is, indeed, oddly, one of his underlings wonders about the protocol for reporting the suspected derangement of a senior officer. Ludovic talks of wanting a dog to love, and then sings: “Father won’t buy me a bow-wow”. The underling receives the reply, “In my experience the more responsible posts in the army are largely filled by certifiable lunatics. They don’t cause any more trouble than the sane ones.’”
I mentioned in my review of Officers and Gentlemen that there were similarities between it and Joseph Heller’s later Catch 22 . There are several instances in Unconditional Surrender that could be considered classic catch 22 situations. Guy is taken to the Emergency Ward of the aerodrome when he injures his knee on a training parachute jump. He asks for his clothes but the orderly is a conscientious objector and can’t help or can’t be bothered; only a mysterious “Admin” can authorize that; Guy wants to phone the parachute school but only Admin can use the phone. So he asks to see Admin but Admin only comes in once a week.
The characters in Unconditional Surrender exemplify a variety of attitudes to war, few of them likely to expedite victory.
• “‘Shocking news from the eastern front. The Bolshevists are advancing again. Germans don’t seem able to stop them. I’d sooner see the Japanese in Europe – at least they have a king and some sort of religion. If one can believe the papers we are actually helping the Bolshevists.’”
• “Sir Ralph Brompton had been schooled in the old diplomatic service to evade irksome duties and to achieve power by insinuating himself into places where, strictly, he had no business. In the looser organisation of total war he was able to trip from office to office and committee to committee.”
• “The Brigadier was in ruminative mood. He had eaten largely; other pleasures lay ahead. ‘War,’ he said. ‘When I was at Sandhurst no one talked about war. We learned about it, of course – a school subject like Latin or geography; something to write exam papers about. No bearing on life. I went into the army because I liked horses, and I’ve got a couple of gongs and a game leg and all I want is quiet. Not peace , mind. There’s nothing wrong with war except the fighting. I don’t mind betting that after five years of peace we shall all look back on Bari as the best days of our life.’”
One of Evelyn Waugh’s great talents is creating outrageous satirical characters. He insisted that no character he created had a real-life parallel. This is likely true but, allowing for a little mixing and a little folding and a little interfusing, I suspect that a lot of the characterisation comes out of direct observation.
“When the Lieutenant spoke of Peregrine Crouchback as ‘interesting’ he was making a unique judgement. A man of many interests certainly, well read, widely travelled, minutely informed in many recondite subjects, a discerning collector of bibelots; a man handsomely apparelled and adorned when he did duty at the papal court; a man nevertheless assiduously avoided even by those who shared his interests. He exemplified the indefinable numbness which Guy recognised intermittently in himself; the saturnine strain which in Ivo had swollen to madness, terror of which haunted Box-Bender when he studied his son’s letters from prison-camp.”
Once again, Guy Crouchback is the protagonist, and he is a lot subtler creation than virtually anyone else in the book, with no striking flaws or eccentricities or weirdness.
Mind you, some of his actions are…unusual. He eventually re-establishes his partnership with Virginia – having never believed, as a Catholic, in the possibility of divorce. But his reasons for resumption of the marriage are unusual: “‘Knights errant,’ he said, ‘used to go out looking for noble deeds. I don’t think I’ve ever in my life done a single, positively unselfish action. I certainly haven’t gone out of my way to find opportunities. Here was something most unwelcome, put into my hands; something which I believe the Americans describe as “beyond the call of duty”; not the normal behaviour of an officer and a gentleman; something they’ll laugh about in Bellamy’s.’” He is doing it for the soul of the baby. Then, when Virginia dies, he re-marries, as he is now free to do according to Catholicism: “‘First sensible thing he’s ever done. Domenica Plessington, Eloise’s girl. Eloise looked after the baby when Guy was abroad. Domenica got very fond of it. A marriage was the obvious thing. I think Eloise deserves some credit in arranging it. Now they’ve two boys of their own. When Domenica isn’t having babies she manages the home farm at Broome. They’ve settled in the agent’s house. They aren’t at all badly off. Angela’s uncle Peregrine left his little bit to the child.’”
Not only “the first sensible thing”, but presumably just about the first conventional action of his romantic life.
Especially towards the end of the book, the satire changes from the lampooning humour of Officers and Gentlemen to a more bleak, derisory tone. A lot of this relates to the “crowd of mixed race Jews” he encounters in Croatia. The episodes with these people highlight the inability of some entities to assist refugees, and the hostility of other entities towards them. The net result is that there is ultimately no change to their pitiful circumstances regardless of how much they are bundled from place to place. There is no levity to the satire here; it is just a highlighting of error, folly, official uninterest, and prejudice, and the impact of these on the real world occupied by certain unfortunate people. “‘ I can’t see the point of their being here,’ said the Commandant. ‘We feed them and doctor them and house them. That’s all we can do. No one wants them. The Zionists are only interested in the young. I suppose they’ll just sit here till they die.’”
Unconditional Surrender is certainly very readable, as all Evelyn Waugh’s books are, and there are moments of effectively savage satire, some of the species that evokes laughter, some of the species that does not, but both types serve satire’s purpose of making us see how ridiculous mankind’s behaviour often is.