"Self Condemned" is a novel written by Wyndham Lewis and published in 1954. Wyndham Lewis was born Percy Wyndham Lewis but he didn't like the name Percy so he dropped it. I happen to like Percy much better than Wyndham. He was not only an author but also a painter. He was a co-founder of the Vorticist movement in art, and edited the literary magazine of the Vorticists, BLAST. I've seen his art and I'm not a big fan of his painting; so far I've only read one of his books so I'm not sure yet if I'm a big fan of his writing.
As to the one book I have read "Self Condemned" I did like it most of the time, I'm not so sure I would have if I were from Canada though. Lewis was born on his father's yacht while it was in Canadian waters off Nova Scotia. He retained his Canadian citizenship throughout his life, which is what enabled him to leave England in 1939 and spend tbe war years in North America. His belief was that he could earn more money in Canada and the United States than he could in England. He arrived in Toronto in September of 1939 and went on to New York, but when his American visa expired he returned to Canada. He called Canada a"sanctimonious ice-box."Lewis and his wife stayed in the Tudor Hotel in Toronto which became the Hotel Blundell in Momaco in "Self Condemned".If I were a resident of Toronto and knew that Momaco was his name for Toronto in the novel, I may have stopped reading when I reached Chapter 11 and read this description of my city:
"Momaco was so ugly, and so devoid of all character as of any trace of charm, that it was disagreeable to walk about in. It was as if the elegance and charm of Montreal had been attributed to the seductions of the Fiend by the puritan founders of Momaco: as if they had said to themselves that at least in Momaco the god-fearing citizen, going about his lawful occasions, should do so without the danger of being seduced by way of his senses.
Had this city not been, with so rare a consistency, ugly and dull, the Hardings might have been less cooped up. Being friendless, there was no temptation to leave their neighbourhood, and be depressed by the squalid monotony.:
Or had I been the owner of the Tudor Hotel and known of it being the Hotel Blundell, Lewis may not have found a room available on his next trip to Canada after I had read this description:
"The Room, in the Hotel Blundell, was twenty-five feet by twelve about. It was no cell. It was lit by six windows: three composed a bay, in which well-lit area they spent most of their time—René sat at one side of the bay, writing upon his knee on a large scribbling pad. Hester sat at the other side, reading or knitting or sleeping.
For the first year she had sat upon a piece of monumental hotel-junk, a bluish sofa. But it secreted bed-bugs, the summer heat disclosed, as it caused one occasionally to walk upon one of its dirty velvet arms."
I wouldn't think Lewis made many Canadian friends once his book was published, but now on to the story. The novel is about Rene Harding, a professor of History who resigns his position because he can no longer teach history the way it has always been taught. While I must say that I didn't quite understand all his reasons here are some of them:
'History cannot be merely an account of all that is interesting, in age after age: the Divine Comedies, the great religious and philosophical systems, the feats of Galileo, Newton or Pythagoras, or the arts, and the ideologies. As an account of what has happened that would be incorrect: for certainly all those things came into being, but that is only half the story, it is not "history". For all these things are products of man, and all have a more or less functional aspect. Once the aeroplane is invented, it is what happens to it afterwards, to what uses it is put, which is as much its history as its original construction. It is the same with the radio, the internal-combustion engine, and the rest: and as to books, their publication is almost meaningless by itself; "history" is there to tell us who read the book and what the book did to him. Now, why Professor Harding's history is, as we have said, pessimistic, is because man in general ignores, misuses or misreads these various products of the creative mind, a mind not possessed by man in general. So this explains why so many uninteresting figures, and even, in the seats of power, such criminals must be still described, why it is impossible for the historian to escape from them. Just as the smell from the sewers must be described in a novel in which it causes the hero's death, so the new historian is obliged to describe what is brutish and only fit for the garbage pail. To conclude, history can only be written as a tragedy, because all that is worth writing about that has come down to us has been denied its full development, has been nipped in the bud, or has been done to death."
As I said Harding resigns his position and plans to move to Canada, doing this without consulting anyone including his wife Hester. This seems extremely selfish to me, but then Rene Harding did seem like an extremely selfish person the entire book. In the first part of our book Harding tells his family and friends of his decision, shocking everyone, and taking his wife leaves for Canada. He has no idea what he will do for employment when he gets there but feels that he has to go. Harding doesn't seem to consider Hester's feelings at all or understand what taking her from her home and family means to her until they are on the ship.
"she sobbed. 'I am sorry, darling, I know what you're thinking, but I just can't help it. All this is too much for me.'
René was much affected. The realization of what this would be for poor Hester struck him now for the first time. He always forgot that Hester was a human being, because she was so terribly much the Woman. And then her world must appear to him such a petty world, that losing it could hardly mean very much. Indeed, it is rather what the grown-up traditionally thinks about the child; it cries its eyes out and it is impossible for the mature to understand that its heart is breaking, if for no other reason because it breaks so many thousands of times.
But René looked grave and was really sorry, as much as it was possible for him to be. It was the beginning of a new way of thinking about Hester, although, at that time, it did not continue for very long."
I also want to mention that while they are on their way to Canada World War II begins:
"The next day the radio announced the Declaration of War. At tea-time they were having tea in the lounge and the King's speech was broadcast. René took all this as a matter of course; and, indeed, the passengers in general appeared to be very little affected. This was natural enough, since most of them were on the ship so as not to be in Europe when this event occurred. With a frown Hester stared a little more than usual: whether this was authentic distress, or a desire to attract attention, it is difficult to say."
The rest of the novel takes place in Canada in the city of Momaco at the Hotel Blundell. The middle section of the book tells us, in depressing details, of the Hardings first struggling years in Momaco up to the turning point of the novel, when the hotel catches fire and burns to the ground. I found myself pitying Rene Harding and Hester so much in this section I often was near tears.
"They never left this Room, these two people, except to shop at the corner of the block. They were as isolated as are the men of the police-posts on Coronation Gulf or Baffin Bay. They were surrounded by a coldness as great as that of the ice-pack; but this was a human pack upon the edge of which they lived. They had practically no social contacts whatever. They were hermits in this horrid place. They were pioneers in this kind of cold, in this new sort of human refrigeration; and no equivalent of a central heat system had, of course, as yet been developed for the human nature in question. They just took it, year after year, and like backwoodsmen (however unwilling) they had become hardened to the icy atmosphere. They had grown used to communicating only with themselves; to being friendless, in an inhuman void."
"There is a wrong sort of hotel; one dedicated to the care of guests who have been deprived of their freedom, and have been kidnapped into solitude and forced inertia.—The Hotel Blundell was the wrong sort of hotel. It was just a hotel, it was not a prison, but for the Hardings, husband and wife, it stank of exile and penury and confinement."
"They must vegetate, violent and morose—sometimes blissfully drunken, sometimes with no money for drink—within these four walls, in this identical daily scene—from breakfast until the time came to tear down the Murphy bed, to pant and sweat in the night temperatures kicked up by the radiators—until the war's-end or the world's-end was it? Until they had died or had become different people and the world that they had left had changed its identity too, or died as they had died. This was the great curse of exile—reinforced by the rigours of the times—as experienced upon such harsh terms as had fallen to their lot."
All Hester wanted was to get back to England, saying things like she would give everything for one half hour in London. There is a scene where they no longer have any money and Hester can't go out because she doesn't have shoes anymore. Than a friend unexpectedly sends them 30 dollars and she can buy a pair of shoes. " She cried a little. It was like a cripple recovering the use of her legs!"It is during these years of hardship that Rene and Hester become the closest:
"But here, all the time, was the person he should have gone to. 'Hardship! I am beginning to love hardship. It sharpens the sight. When I look, I see. I see what a grand woman you are. I used to think that you were scheming and frivolous—I am afraid that you must have seen that I thought that.'
'I sometimes feared you thought that,' she agreed. She saw her chances of an opening slipping away. She had trembled when he spoke so favourably of hardship.
'I, no more than you, would seek hardship,' he said, and she started, for it was as though he had been listening in to her thoughts. 'But honestly, being imprisoned, as we have been, here, has its compensations. This barren life has dried out of me a great deal that should not have been there. And you have become integrated in me. This tête-à-tête of ours over three years has made us as one person. And this has made me understand you—for most people I should hate to be integrated with. It is only when years of misery have caused you to grow into another person in this way that you can really know them.' He waited a moment and then went on, 'In the other world, Hester, I treated you as you did not at all deserve. I cut a poor figure as I look back at myself.'
This section ends with the fire. Hotel Blundell burns to the ground, now Rene and Hester must find a new place to live. Hester sees this as the chance to get back to England, Rene realizes that he will never return to England.
The final section finds the Hardings living in another hotel. Hester is beginning to unravel, before in their years at the Hotel Blundell, she saw their years in exile as a time of suffering that they would escape from someday and return to England. The hotel burning seemed to her to be the opportunity to leave Canada, a place she hates, and finding that her husband doesn't feel the same way she falls into depression. They used to be united over their hatred of Momaco, now he never mentions the horrors of the city. Rene begins to have success in Momaco, he becomes a columnist for the Momaco Gazette-Herald.Hester is horrified, the last thing she wants is for him to begin to succeed in this awful city. At this point I was thinking that this couldn't possibly end well, and it doesn't, but I won't say anymore. I did like the book, there were one or two chapters that seemed too long and too wordy for me, but only one or two. Go ahead and read the book, I give it three stars.