Reading the Chunksters discussion

And so Philip leaves Heidelberg, where "he never knew that he had been happy" [31] and returns back to what I guess we have to call home, the Vicarage, where his aunt, at least, is glad to see him.

And he meets Miss Wilkinson, she of the indeterminate age, seemingly somewhere north of 35 and south of 50.

Initially "Philip made up his mind to dislike her thoroughly." [32] But that changes. How and why isn't entirely clear to me, and I'm not sure it's clear to Philip either, but it does change. Or sort of changes. Does he ever really come to like her? Or is he just flattered by her and intrigued a bit by her until finally he succumbs to what I'm sure his uncle would call the wicked temptations of the flesh?

Am I alone in finding this a very sad and even sordid set of chapters? But, also, they are an important aspect of Philip's gradual -- well, let's say development as person; it that a better word than maturity?

Was she kidding, or only partly kidding, or not kidding at all when she says on their first meeting that "It's the dream of my life to be taken for an abandoned hussy"? We remember that remark; I wonder, does Philip?

But it also she who, it seems, first puts the idea in Philip's head of going to Paris to study art.

At the start of Chapter 33 we read:
Philip could not get Miss Wilkinson's story out of his head. It was clear enough what she meant even though she cut it short, and he was a little shocked. That sort of thing was all very well for married women, he had read enough French novels to know that in France it was indeed the rule, but Miss Wilkinson was English and unmarried; her father was a clergyman. Then it struck him that the art-student probably was neither the first nor the last of her lovers, and he gasped: he had never looked upon Miss Wilkinson like that; it seemed incredible that anyone should make love to her. In his ingenuousness he doubted her story as little as he doubted what he read in books, and he was angry that such wonderful things never happened to him. Talk about foreshadowing -- this is foreshadowing with a vengeance, isn't it?

A question I am pondering: at what point did Miss W decide to seduce Philip? (I should note that the precursor to that is the assumption that at some point she did decide to seduce him. Is there disagreement about that? Do some readers think he was the one successfully seducing her? Or was it mutual?) At any rate, if we accept the assumption that she was seducing him, at what point did she decide to to it? Was her remark about being taken for a hussy the start of the seduction process? Or was it just conversation and the thought came to her later?

In the end, it happens, but I must say that I find it one of the least appealing seduction scenes of literature. Why does Philip go through with it? I mean, consider the end of Chapter 34:

He felt sick with apprehension. He wished with all his heart that he had not suggested the plan; but it was too late now; he must take the opportunity which he had made. What would Miss Wilkinson think of him if he did not! ... he put his hand on the knob of the door-handle. He waited. It seemed to him that he waited for at least five minutes, trying to make up his mind; and his hand trembled. He would willingly have bolted, but he was afraid of the remorse which he knew would seize him. It was like getting on the highest diving-board in a swimming-bath; it looked nothing from below, but when you got up there and stared down at the water your heart sank; and the only thing that forced you to dive was the shame of coming down meekly by the steps you had climbed up. Philip screwed up his courage. He turned the handle softly and walked in. He seemed to himself to be trembling like a leaf.

Miss Wilkinson was standing at the dressing-table with her back to the door, and she turned round quickly when she heard it open.

"Oh, it's you. What d'you want?"

She had taken off her skirt and blouse,... She looked grotesque. Philip's heart sank as he stared at her; she had never seemed so unattractive; but it was too late now. He closed the door behind him and locked it.

Has any less appealing seduction scene ever been written?

Then we get another major change in his life, but this post is already way too long, so I'll address it in another soon.

Everyman wrote: "Has any less appealing seduction scene ever been written?...."

No, it is not how we want to read about initial sexual encounters. But, in real life, just how lyrical and poetic are first time encounters? I suspect many people suffer anxiety and discomfort and heart-sinking clarity rather than breathless and romantic engagements, especially if the motivation is something less than love.

Janice George (JG) wrote: "Everyman wrote: "Has any less appealing seduction scene ever been written?...."

No, it is not how we want to read about initial sexual encounters. But, in real life, just how lyrical and poetic a..."

Good point.

It does seem, doesn't it, that Maugham is more interested in presenting a candid portrayal of a not all that appealing young man with a somewhat confused approach to life, rather than the more romanticized portrayals of young men more common to Victorian literature?

Lots to talk about here and I was actually making notes last night because I was so struck by how this portrait of Philip is coming together and by some interesting threads uniting many of Philip's intense relationships. But, my daughter just got home from Florida and I've been distracted. Back tomorrow to really dig in and discuss!

Philip seems to make quite a few important steps based on nothing more than just not wanting to contradict himself. I would imagine a lot of people approach their "first time" with uncertainty and trepidation, but I would not think that most are actually repulsed by their partners, as he seems to be at that moment! I think Miss Wilkinson seduced Philip, and probably agonized over how slowly he moved! I'm just not sure what her motivation for beginning the relationship is. I thought it might just be a romantic fling with a younger man, but she seems pretty clingy and determined to continue the relationship for that. Surely, though, she knows that Philip has no money? And if she's hoping for marriage, it seems he would discover her age and see the ridiculousness of the relationship!

I felt quite a bit of sympathy for Philip at first--orphaned, forced to live with an uncle who was not always understanding, self-conscious of his disability and bullied at school--but my sympathy is wearing thin. He seems so unlikeable, so self-centered at this point in the book. When I stopped to think about it, though, I realized that a lot of his more repulsive qualities are those that are shared by most adolescents. He's moody, selfish, easily beguiled by other foolish people, and can't be bothered to consider anything beyond the next five minutes in his life--he's a teenager! I'm interested to see which of these qualities outlive his adolescence. I cannot even venture to guess, at this point, whether he will become more likable as an adult or not.

I've got my own ideas about Miss Wilkinson :)

Paula wrote: "I've got my own ideas about Miss Wilkinson :)"

I see a desperate spinster who just wants some guy to attach herself to, but that desperation will grow old very quickly.

Everyman wrote: "It does seem, doesn't it, that Maugham is more interested in presenting a candid portrayal of a not all that appealing young man with a somewhat confused approach to life, rather than the more romanticized portrayals of young men more common to Victorian literature?..."

Yes, it does. Keeping in mind that this is semi-quasi-kinda-autobiographical, the scene reads very realistically... and he doesn't give his teenage self/Philip any slack. I know that Maugham has no problem revealing the flaws of his characters, but I also know that Philip is confused, and alone, and forgiveable.

Oh, Philip. No sooner does he extract himself from the superficial, romantically flashy Hayward, he comes home only to encounter yet another flashy object to flit around. Has he learned nothing from his experiences with Rose and Hayward? Has he grown in discernment? Apparently not.

This section of the reading was fascinating to me. It poses, and answers, the following question:

What happens when two "Rehearsal/Fantasy Identities" meet?

In these chapters, Maugham gives us an incredibly layered and complex answer.

In one corner, we have Philip. To this point Philip hasn’t actually done much lying about his background or situation. That's not how his fantasy has worked. What he does is he has this idealized vision of the kind of person he would like to be (or what he thinks others would like him to be) and he works very hard to work toward becoming that person. The effort is almost palpable. He has this playbook in his head about what a normal, self-confident, "regular guy" would do, or say, or experience at this time of his life and he tries to emulate that. Because…Philip doesn't think of himself as normal. He has little to no self-worth. Since boyhood, he has been constantly seeking a way into that normal, regular life.

He always feels like he is on the outside looking in. So he runs his playbook, step by step, thinking that this will somehow gain him entry into the real world he so desperately seeks. Because he doesn’t think he can ever be a part of that world just by being himself. For, how can an abnormal person ever be a part of the normal world without being ridiculed or dismissed? Philp is horrified by the very idea.

So, he has to somehow build a normal Philip. To Philip, a regular (popular) guy his age would have already had some intrigues, flirtations, sexual encounters. I found it striking that nowhere was there any indication of any kind of romantic feeling, authentic passion, or desire on Philip's part. His approach was very clinical, very goal oriented, almost robotic. Miss Wilkinson is simply the means to achieving his goal.

Because really, what do we see here? Philip isn't attracted to Miss Wilkinson at all! Maugham subtly weaves in all the cues that tell us this. Philip is in a constant state of denial – he deliberately avoids looking at her in a certain light. He tries to blind himself to the cheapness and flashiness of her dress and mannerisms. He doesn't look at her ankles. He works to stitch and quilt together a better version of her, and he is constantly dropping those little pieces of fantasy and seeing into the reality. He constantly tries to talk himself into being in love with her and fails over and over. But he keeps diligently stitching away. He is in love with the "idea" of being in love or experiencing true passion, but he never attains it with Miss Wilkinson.

Maugham builds upon this, applying layer after layer, all very subtle and delicate, touching upon it here and there. We see into Philip's thoughts - how he encounters the multiple reminders of the reality (that he doesn't find her at all attractive). We see his mind and his eyes bump up against the reality time and time again - and then immediately flit away. Again, all very fleeting and subtle until the final, sordid culmination, when he enters her room, is disgusted by what he sees, but says to himself it is too late to back out. The result? He has sex with a woman who disgusts and revolts him. That is the degree to which his desire to be a normal young man has taken him. That he would rather do these things than to just be himself. The truly horrifying thing is: if Philip continues to behave in this way, will he lose who he really is and become this fake, unfeeling, empty person who cannot exist without the desired opinions of others?

To me, the following extract really hones in on the calculating nature Philip is beginning to develop.

“He led her to the kitchen garden where no one was likely to come…He kissed her passionately. It was one of the things that puzzled him that he did not like her at all in the morning, and only moderately in the afternoon, but at night the touch of her hand thrilled him. He said things that he would never have thought himself capable of saying; he could certainly never have said them in the broad light of day; and he listened to himself with wonder and satisfaction. ‘How beautifully you make love’, she said. That is what he thought himself. ..It was splendid. It was the most thrilling game he had ever played; and the wonderful thing was that he felt almost all he said. It was only that he exaggerated a little. He was tremendously interested and excited in the effect he could see it had on her.”

“He listened to himself with satisfaction.” “It was the most thrilling game he had ever played.” “He was tremendously interested and excited in the effect he could see it had on her.”

So clinical, unfeeling and disturbing! Is there any sign of emotional involvement? Does Philip perceive and experience Miss Wilkinson as a person? No. She has become an object. Like some guinea pig in a science experiment.

Now, in the other corner, we have Miss Wilkinson. North of 30 and south of 50 (love that!). She dons her rehearsal/fantasy identity even before she meets Philip. She has her flashy clothes and has assumed a girlish, coquettish demeanor. She even has a flower ready to give to him (she probably spent time peeking at him while he was reunited with his aunt and uncle and liked what she saw). She knows she is going to meet a young man and she has dressed and assumed the role of a young, merry girl with exciting travels and experiences to share. She has decided that she is going to have a romance with this young man and she is primed and ready. And talk about embroidering the truth! There is very little truth peeking through with Miss Wilkinson. She hides the reality of her life and history as desperately as she tries to hide her age.
We get the idea she has been embroidering her personal truth for many years because, here, so deeply immersed in her fantasy identity, she continues to do so even though Aunt Louisa, who has known her since girlhood, can burst those frothy little lies at any time.

She is just as calculating as Philip. Their fantasy identities posture and dance around each other and they both have the same ultimate goal – almost.

The difference being that Philip is really only interested in a one-time experience - because he isn’t attracted to Miss Wilkinson either emotionally or physically. He flirts with two other girls and enjoys it immensely. He even avoids being alone with Miss Wilkinson. He’s done with her. She has almost fulfilled her purpose. She has one more: she will be the subject of a highly romanticized letter (containing many falsities) to Hayward.

On the other hand, I think Miss Wilkinson is thinking more long term. Her fantasy involves a lot of romance…lovely letters full of longing. Future trysts to look forward to. And who knows…maybe a commitment of more? Anything to relieve her dissatisfaction with what she perceives as the humdrum existence of her life. She probably has dreamt of this kind of romance for many years. She has watched herself age and still that dream has eluded her. So, her dream evolves into an obsession with Philip, complete with tears and tantrums. Which makes her even more unattractive in Philip’s eyes.

I’ve rattled on about these two long enough and there’s more to come in this section. Sorry for the length of this post, but I’m deeply struck by this novel.

Very well said, Paula, I think you nailed the clash of the rehearsal identities!

Philip did not impress me (to put it mildly) in these chapters. His cold hunt for his first time made for unpleasant reading, but in a way it's a comfort that he pursued a woman who wanted to be pursued, though I suspect that if miss Wilkinson could have read his true feelings about her she would have locked her door.

I understand that it can be difficult to find out what career path you want to go down, but Philip's indifference exasperates me. He didn't want to study law or go into the church, he can't go into the navy, he doesn't want to be a doctor, and then he does a half-arsed job at the accountancy and refuses to go back. He is such a short-sighted, moody teenager. I understand why his uncle was against his going to Paris to study art. That's a very risky thing to do with nothing to fall back on, no plan B.

Mrs Carey is the most likable person in the novel so far, I think. I felt so sorry for her after her speech in chapter 39. She loves her husband but knows he is indifferent to her. She is full of goodness and kindness, and is the only one so far who is capable of self-sacrifice. "Here, take my money. I shall probably die before your uncle, so I will not need it." That woman deserves more love than she has ever received, I think. But she is only just out of sight before Philip forgets about her. Poor woman.

Also, I got a Mansfield Park flashback. There's a Fanny Price!

I'm not sure that I have much to add. I didn't feel that Miss Wilkinson set out to deliberately seduce Philip. It seemed more like she had this affected personality that tossed all of these lures out, hoping that someone would bite. Philip was young enough to be foolish and gullible. I don't really feel like either one of them played a greater part in the seduction. I think where she flinched and he took over was a brief overlap of who was most certain. Philip was very calculated, Miss Wilkinson was very provocative in her behavior. As Everyman said, it was terribly sordid. I was a bit nauseated when he locked the door.

One of the things I marked was when Philip came back from Heidelberg and he first meets the Careys again. And then: Philip realized that they had done with life, these two quiet little people: they belonged to a past generation, and they were waiting patiently, rather stupidly, for death; and he, in his vigour and his youth, thirsting for excitement and adventure was appalled at the waste. They had done nothing, and when they went it would be just as if they had never been.

I thought this was interesting because it shows a lack of foresight that's common among teens. Why do we never think we're going to be old? I agree that Philip is acting like a normal teenager but this only makes me remember why I'm SO glad I'm not a teenager!

Paula wrote: "I've got my own ideas about Miss Wilkinson :)"

And they are???

Paula wrote: "Oh, Philip. ..."

A very nice analysis which more than answers my message 12 (I should have read on!).

I especially liked " I found it striking that nowhere was there any indication of any kind of romantic feeling, authentic passion, or desire on Philip's part. His approach was very clinical, very goal oriented, almost robotic. Miss Wilkinson is simply the means to achieving his goal." Doesn't this seem to be one basic philosophy of maleness, from the Sabine Women (and earlier, I'm sure) through Don Juan et. al, up to today's frat boy? The object is the event, not any concern for the individual per se.

I especially like your term "clinical." It really is very much that, isn't it?

Paula wrote: "On the other hand, I think Miss Wilkinson is thinking more long term. Her fantasy involves a lot of romance…lovely letters full of longing. Future trysts to look forward to. And who knows…maybe a commitment of more?"

Her behavior really confuses me. Why would she pick on Philip, who is a cripple with no particularly marketable skills, very little money, no established home to take her to, really nothing that a reasonable woman would look for in a long term relationship. Yet clearly (to me, at least) she leads him on, she plays him, she is just as clinical as he is in getting him to bed her. Why? It doesn't make sense to me either logically or emotionally. So something else is going on here. But what?

I'm being she's been doing this for a long time and Philip is the only one who took the bait.

Sarah wrote: "I'm being she's been doing this for a long time and Philip is the only one who took the bait."

I was thinking along those lines. She would need someone gullible enough to swallow all that baloney she was dishing out. And she would want someone to whom she could feel more worldly and superior. Because, well, she has a fragile sense of self too.

Isn't it sad that Philip is too young to fully appreciate the fact that he is dearly loved by his aunt, who really opens her heart (and purse) to him. Of course, to someone his age, his aunt and uncle are old fossils who, he feels, Life is ready to toss into the dustbin.

It is sad. She really seems to love him. Occasionally he realizes this and cares for her for about 30 seconds.

I am falling in with what seems to be the prevailing thoughts on this group of chapters - that Philip is certainly growing up, and I'm not sure it's in a good way. He seems to want desperately to have a romantic encounter with someone, anyone, and Ms. W walks right in to that. And Ms. Wilkinson, well, she's just a work isn't she? Knows exactly how to push Philip's buttons, what to say and how he's likely to react. I do not like her, she's manipulating a young, highly impressionable boy and the guilt trips, wowza!

That all being said, I'm not sure that I like Philip much right now either. The searching around for a place, for friends, for a vocation, that all seems very much of the age, and I don't fault him for any of that, but he's so closed off from being able to engage with the world, or really anyone. He needs to get his head out of the books (didn't we all say this might end up being a bit of a problem for him?) and start engaging. And for those people, his aunt, who seem to truly care for him, he feels the pang of love and affection and then really can't act on it. I do think this is also going to cause him some problems in the coming pages.

Jen wrote: "That all being said, I'm not sure that I like Philip much right now either..."

I don't think we're meant to like him much right now.

Nina wrote: "Mrs Carey is the most likable person in the novel so far, I think. "

Certainly one of the most likeable. Actually, when you think about it, there aren't very many characters who could be considered likeable, are there? Mr. Perkins, Prof. Erlin, maybe Anna, but after those, who?

We haven't said much about the accounting apprenticeship, perhaps because there isn't really that much to say about it. I see it primarily as serving several roles. One is to emphasize that his uncle doesn't understand him and what direction his life should take. But a second is to point out that Philip doesn't know either, and doesn't really have the mindset to take control of his life. And a third is to emphasize his loneliness, his inability to make friends easily, his shyness, and his insecurity.

All of which, I suddenly realize, all play into the relationship with Miss W who, I suspect, reads him well and realizes that he desperately wants someone to relate to and have a relationship, any sort of relationship, with.

In Week 2 right now there's a discussion going on about Philip taking an instant dislike to Hayward because he had a pale blue tie. I wanted to bring it over here because he did the exact same thing with Miss W and became just as fatuously involved with both of them. Did something like this happen with Rose? I'm wondering if it's going to be a pattern, and if so, what does it mean?

I don't have a ton to add that has not already been addressed.

Regarding Miss Wilkinson, she seems much like Rose and Hayward to me. I think she is an aging spinster desparate not to be alone. She sees Philip as a potential suitor to escape her own loneliness. I'm not so sure that Philip is poor exactly. It seems he has about 1800 pounds. I don't know how this translates exactly but Hayward gets 300 pounds per year so that's 5 years of frivolity if he desired. Certainly he has enough money to start a life should Miss Wilkinson become with child for example.

Moving on to London..... what strikes me here is how very depressed Philip is. He is alone and isolated with no real way of escaping it. It's like a spiral. The longer he feels this despair the worse it gets and the harder it is to escape it. I am concerned that the way he deals with his sadness and dissatisfaction with his life is to runaway from it. We have moved from school to Germany to London and now off to Paris. For Philip, happiness always seems just out of reach.

Finally, to add to the list of people he doesn't like.... Warren. "Philip hated Watson, and yet he would have given anything to change places with him". I can't help but think that Philip has the same jealous streak that his Uncle does.

I can't help but imagine Philip as a present day teenager with too many tattoos and gauges in his ears. Good thing those were not readily available at the end of the 19th century.

Up until now I have ascribed a lot of Phillip's behavior to that of a typical teenager, including his liaison with Miss W, but his inability to appreciate his Aunt's love for him upset me. You would think that when finally someone expresses pure love and caring for him, it would make a deep impact and go a long way towards healing his sense of being alone in the world and uncared for. But no, he barely notices and the only thing that makes an impact on him is the money. Maybe people who grew up without love can't recognize or express it. Nevertheless, his lack of appreciation for his Aunt and her gesture towards him is an aspect of him that is truly ugly.

Paula wrote: "Isn't it sad that Philip is too young to fully appreciate the fact that he is dearly loved by his aunt, who really opens her heart (and purse) to him. Of course, to someone his age, his aunt and un..."

Sarah wrote: "In Week 2 right now there's a discussion going on about Philip taking an instant dislike to Hayward because he had a pale blue tie. I wanted to bring it over here because he did the exact same thi..."

Nice connection. There is apparently more to this tie than meets the eye, but I'm not finding it.

Stephanie wrote: "Finally, to add to the list of people he doesn't like.... [Watson]. "Philip hated Watson, and yet he would have given anything to change places with him". I can't help but think that Philip has the same jealous streak that his Uncle does."

Interesting. Something he absorbed living with his uncle, perhaps?

Stephanie wrote: "Moving on to London..... what strikes me here is how very depressed Philip is. "

At this point in the book, he seems depressed almost constantly after his mother's death (we don't know about before). Maybe if he had stayed for the last year of school he could have found success and at least some happiness. But it seems that he's one of those who think the grass is always greener (Germany, London, Paris) but find that wherever you go, you are still yourself.

Not long to go now until I've caught up with the rest of you. I don't have a lot to add to what have been really interesting and insightful comments from you all. I'm really enjoying the book and whenever I am left pondering something, these comments pick up exactly on my train of thought. I too wondered what was miss wilkinson's motive for seducing Phillip, since I think that's certainly what she set out to do? She must've seen how little he had to offer her and I can't believe she was unaware of his decidedly luke warm feelings towards her. I found the whole

Not long to go now until I've caught up with the rest of you. I don't have a lot to add to what have been really interesting and insightful comments from you all. I'm really enjoying the book and whenever I am left pondering something, these comments pick up exactly on my train of thought. I too wondered what was miss wilkinson's motive for seducing Phillip, since I think that's certainly what she set out to do? She must've seen how little he had to offer her and I can't believe she was unaware of his decidedly luke warm feelings towards her. I found the whole

Sorry, got over excited and posts too quickly. I found the whole episode very disturbing, especially when he describes her as 'grotesque'. I think this scene will stay with me long after the book is finished.
Also finding Phillip's aimless drifting and lack of direction quite frustrating and quite disliked him for his attitude and approach to the accountancy job. I don't feel as sorry for him as I did at first although I think I understand his reasons for acting as he does.
Better keep reading, 10 more chapters to catch up...

I think Philip seduced himself. Miss W certainly may have put the idea into his head but he was the one who psyched himself up to 'do the deed'.

Argh. Yes it was sordid, unattractive and about as unromantic as it's possible to get. I also think it's very true to life. I certainly remember the discussions and fears at school and university as girls (and boys but I wasn't privy to as many conversations as I was with girls) worried about 'going all the way' and the shame of being a virgin when you were sure everyone had 'done it' and surely you really just wanted to get it over with and not be the odd one out. How many of those first times were romantic and tender? WSM has few illusions but he knows life.

To me Philip wants to 'feel a man' and Miss W wants to feel like an attractive woman who can still entice devotion from a lover. She's a woman who wants romance but must make her living as a governess. She's a pitiful character to me, more so than Philip who at least is young and has more chances still at finding happiness in life. Miss Wilkinson is washed up and she knows it.

As for Philip, he's young and he dreams of love, he wants to experience passion just as if he wasn't a 'cripple'. That fantasy he creates in his head and sends to Hayward and then sneers at the letter he gets in return which extols the delights of first love. Would he have been so contemptuous of Hayward's response if his beautiful young lady had really existed? His anger is pushed outwards to Hayward and to Miss Wilkinson for not being the fresh faced beauty who could validate himself.

Philip always evaluates Miss Wilkinson in terms of looks. How she dresses and how young she looks. He grows angry when he thinks she doesn't measure up and relaxes and congratulates himself whenever he thinks she looks well. It's a constant argument as he tried to convince himself into believing he has romantic feelings. And, as with the school decision, once he has made up his mind he considers it shameful to change it.

Regarding his job in London I don't blame him for chucking it as life's too short to be chained to doing something you dislike especially if you don't actually have any gift for it. I can certainly sympathise with his isolation in a strange city and being unable to dance and so socialise and meet people of his own age.

To be imprisoned in that life for another 4 years at least would have been a living death.

That said I can appreciate his uncle's dislike of the idea of throwing it up and becoming an artist in Paris. For a careful man such a scheme would have being the height of foolhardiness. He was reasonable enough to agree to Philip changing profession but wanted it to be to a 'respectable' career. Art just wasn't going to be acceptable.

Once again his aunt rescues him and we see another example of Philip's seeming incapacity to love anybody else. Well, that's what I see anyway. He can give admiration and a sort of doglike devotion (as per Rose and Hayward) but that isn't 'love' to me. It doesn't last as it's not based on true emotion from the heart. Philip's aunt has loved him from when he was a child, I don't consider it normal that a child coming from his position didn't bond with her. Perhaps when she's dead and he can no longer lean on her he'll remember her like I think he does his mother. Through romantic spectacles rather than with an intense loving connection.

Everyman wrote: "Nina wrote: "Mrs Carey is the most likable person in the novel so far, I think. "

Certainly one of the most likeable. Actually, when you think about it, there aren't very many characters who coul..."

I didn't consider Mr Perkin's likeable... So far of the fully formed characters we've meet I would say that I only 'like' Mrs Carey and probably Weeks.

Everyman wrote: "All of which, I suddenly realize, all play into the relationship with Miss W who, I suspect, reads him well and realizes that he desperately wants someone to relate to and have a relationship, any sort of relationship, with.

Perhaps as a woman I have more sympathy for her. Why do we need to blame someone? Philip may be young but he's not a child and Philip only has the idea put in his head he does all of the manoeuvring not her.

Miss W doesn't seem to be the omniscient type to me. Her dream of being a 'bad woman' just seems another sad indictment of the stifling prosaicness of her real life. She wanted adventure and romance but she's the daughter of a vicar and has to work as a governess to survive. What a fate for a romantic soul.

She may cling to Philip with a passion too strong to be truly believable but at least it's an actual emotion rather than a cold blooded evaluation. She's selfish as well but relationships are if you really analyse them, people interact with others for their own reasons.

For these two neither motivation is particularly edifying but I'm not going to put all of the blame on the wicked Delilah.

Sarah wrote: "In Week 2 right now there's a discussion going on about Philip taking an instant dislike to Hayward because he had a pale blue tie. I wanted to bring it over here because he did the exact same thi..."

I noticed that as well (I was actually the person who commented on that pale tie). Philip does seem to make very shallow and superficial judgements about people based on how they look and dress. And that might very well be all that is meant by it. Philip is after all clubfooted and so in his loathing of his own disability he might very well have developed an intense dislike of anything 'ugly'. He is ashamed of his deformity and this expresses itself as an intolerance of anything aesthetically displeasing.

Nicola wrote: "As for Philip, he's young and he dreams of love, he wants to experience passion just as if he wasn't a 'cripple'. "

That's a good point. I agree with you that Philip was wanting to lose his virginity somehow, and Miss W was the only one there, but there's also, I think, the element of getting something he thought he wanted but then realized he didn't really want. We saw this trait first in his getting approval to go to Germany -- he thought he wanted to go, and fought for the right, but once he won it, part of him regretted that he had -- the reality of what he had "won" began to sink it, but his ego made him go through with it. I think it's the same trait with Miss W -- he thought he wanted to be in love, to experience sex, but when it actually came to the point, suddenly he realized that he really didn't want it -- but again, his ego kicked in and wouldn't let him not go through with it. (Ego is a bad term here but I don't have the energy to search for a better.)

Everyman wrote: " suddenly he realized that he really didn't want it -- but again, his ego kicked in and wouldn't let him not go through with it. (Ego is a bad term here but I don't have the energy to search for a better.)..."

Ego works... for whatever self-protective reason, he was not honest with himself or Miss W, and let his ego drive him on.

Nina wrote: "Also, I got a Mansfield Park flashback. There's a Fanny Price!"

There it is - Mansfield Park! Thank you Nina, I've been wracking my brain to figure out why that name sounded so familiar!

Mrs Carey is the most likable person in the novel so far, I think. I felt so sorry for her after her speech in chapter 39....That woman deserves more love than she has ever received, I think. But she is only just out of sight before Philip forgets about her. Poor woman.

I agree, Nina. That scene gave me a pit in my stomach for poor Mrs. Carey.

I've just now caught up to the group in the reading and am enjoying reading through everyone's comments right now.

Sarah wrote: " there's a discussion going on about Philip taking an instant dislike to Hayward because he had a pale blue tie. I wanted to bring it over here because he did the exact same thing with Miss W and became just as fatuously involved with both of them."

I actually laughed out loud when Philip decided he was not going to like Miss W, and remembering he did the same thing with Hayward.

My lengthy absence has meant that I'm not reading all of the comments. Sorry about that and that my little contribution will almost certainly be a repeat. I am foolishly arrogant enough to give my thoughts anyway.
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I find Miss Wilkinson at one level to be a package of lurid unattractiveness. When I envisage this lady the sense of smell that pervades my being is that sickly sweet 'old lady' perfume which is usually accompanied by rouge (blusher) of a nasty pink hue, usually plastered on up to the eyes and down to the chin, leaving long white parts of the face unadorned by the rouge. (This is a nasty put down on my part as I'm not far away from this makeup technique myself!)
At another level, despite some of Miss Wikinson's abhorrent tendencies, I think she's a very insecure lady who dares to believe that she may have found love at last. I really believe that were there mutual love and attraction there, age ought to be no barrier.

Hilary wrote: "At another level, despite some of Miss Wikinson's abhorrent tendencies, I think she's a very insecure lady who dares to believe that she may have found love at last. I really believe that were there mutual love and attraction there, age ought to be no barrier. "

I agree about the insecurity. Whether she actually found love at last, or was just so desperate that she fooled herself into thinking she had found love, I am in two minds about.

Is her "love" for Philip different from Philip's "love" for Mildred, and if so how (other than the consummation of the one but not the other)?

Oh a very good question. Come to think of it, apart from the perceived attractiveness of both characters, that is the objects of 'love', there really doesn't seem to me to be a lot of difference, but then I've probably forgotten something important.

Frankly, at this point I think Philip's a little prick. He and Miss W were about equally to blame in their tryst and they're both pretty pathetic about it. He won't tell her he's tired of the whole thing and she's so exhaustingly clingy that I don't know how he stands it. Actually, he doesn't; he just runs away and hopes the problem will disappear.

I just felt annoyed with him when he went to London. He fusses all the time to himself about not knowing anyone, yet he makes NO effort to try to meet anyone, even when the opportunity is extended. He may not dance, but he could go and talk to people! He's deliberately aloof from those at the Gallery who try to engage him, he has a high and mighty attitude over the other clerks, cutting off their potential companionship (although granted some of them do the same thing to him in a reverse sense). It just felt like one big pity party and I wanted to smack him and tell him to grow the hell up.

I do agree that if he's doing work that he just can't see himself staying in, he should get out. I've been in situations like that, and I did leave at the right opportunity, HOWEVER, I made sure I already had other employment lined up first. He's completely foolhardy, with his head in the clouds. He's also so darn sensitive!

I have hope for him, as I've known may youths with questionable decision-making skills grow up to learn and be fine individuals, but some people have a longer learning curve than others, and due to the length of this novel, I think Philip's will be quite lengthy. Especially if he keeps up this jumping from place to place, always thinking the next thing is going to make him happy. Until he's happy with himself AS HE IS, nothing else will ever satisfy him, and he will be forever angry and unhappy.

Alana wrote: "It just felt like one big pity party and I wanted to smack him and tell him to grow the hell up."

Well put. And you're not alone!

But read on. It's not impossible that he might actually start to grow the heck up!

Morning After Glow!

"His triumph was short-lived. He remembered the slight roughness of her skin and the sharp, long lines on the side of her neck. He reckoned out her age again, and he did not see how she could be less than forty. It made the affair ridiculous. She was plain and old.
His quick fancy showed her to him, wrinkled, haggard, made-up, in frocks which were too showy for her position and too young for her years. He shuddered; he felt suddenly that he never wanted to see her again; he could not bear the thought of kissing her. He was horrified with himself. Was that love?"

Bonnie wrote: "Morning After Glow!

"His triumph was short-lived. He remembered the slight roughness of her skin and the sharp, long lines on the side of her neck. He reckoned out her age again, and he did not se..."

And yet I wonder how many young men (almost boys) today facing a modern Mrs. Robinson felt the same way? Certainly Dustin Hoffman (forget the name of the character he played) did, didn't he?

I'm commenting only a year later! With reference to Mrs Robinson, Everyman, I think she may be just a tad more attractive than this beauty, though there would have been many parallel experiences.

I wanted to yell "Run!" To Phillip as he was about to enter the room. He really seems not to have any mature guidance to turn to. He has
no parents or siblings, so he is very much isolated. Unfortunately, his choice of friends leaves a lot to be desired. He is, for all intents and purposes, prostituting himself.

Hilary wrote: "I'm commenting only a year later! With reference to Mrs Robinson, Everyman, I think she may be just a tad more attractive than this beauty, though there would have been many parallel experiences...."

One has, or at least I had, to be sympathetic for him even as one, or at least I, was yelling at him not to be such a fool.

Y