Victorians! discussion

Well, if you have read this week’s chapters, you see that we have finally added some estrogen to our testosterone-driven cast! Let’s look at how the introduction of some females into the lives of our gentlemen thickens the plot (no pun intended)!

Book the Third - “Lurking Mischief”

This chapter is entirely in epistolary style, and it is through the exchange of letters that we meet one of our leading ladies.

Midwinter writes to Mr. Brock, informing him that they have arrived at Thorpe-Ambrose unexpectedly to avoid a formal reception being planned in Allan’s honor. Midwinter also asks Mr. Brock for his opinion on his suitability for the position of steward of the estate. He mentions a mysterious man lurking about the grounds in connection with the dismissal of a singularly unattractive maid, all of which he finds troubling.

The names on the next letter are unfamiliar to us, but we quickly learn that Miss Gwilt is the former child-maid who helped bring about the ill-fated marriage of the current Allan’s parents. The letters between her and the “old wretch,” Mrs. Oldershaw, reveal a conspiratorial focus on Lydia insinuating herself in some fashion into Allan’s life. There is mention of the debt owed to Lydia by his mother. We also learn that the lurking man and the maid were acting as spies for Mrs. Oldershaw. The exchange ends with Mrs. Oldershaw advising Miss Gwilt that she will need to ensnare Allan by proving more alluring than Miss Milroy, and Miss Gwilt agrees to the plan.

Ch. II - “Allan as a Landed Gentleman”

This chapter takes place on the morning after Allan and Midwinter’s arrival at their new home. Allan awakens before his friend and goes exploring. When Allan meets his staff, I confess that all I could think of was the reactions of the Downton Abbey staff to his impetuous informality–particularly Carson! 🙂 In the garden, Allan meets Miss Milroy and immediately falls in love (big surprise there, right?), even though the description of the young lady is somewhat contradictory: “She was pretty; she was not pretty–she charmed, she disappointed, she charmed again” (173). As I read it, I thought, he giveth, and he taketh away. One moment she is described as “too short, and too well-developed for her age” (whatever THAT means!), but then that “few men’s eyes would have wished her figure other than it was.” Then her hands are “so prettily plump and dimpled” that it is “hard to see how red they were.” Like, what the heck? And on it goes. What did you think about this summary of Miss Milroy’s charms/faults? Why would Collins have necessarily presented her in this way? What do you take away from this description?

They walk to the Milroy’s cottage and Allan introduces himself to Mr. Milroy. Trying to raise his daughter and care for his bedridden wife has taken a toll on him–he has a “stooping figure, and . . . wan, deeply-wrinkled cheeks” (179). His demeanor is even more concerning as “the changeless influence of one monotonous pursuit and one monotonous habit of thought was next expressed in the dull, dreamy self-absorption of his manner and his look . . . a man only roused at intervals to know himself again for what he once had been” (180). Miss Milroy discovers that her father is writing an advertisement for a governess, and she pleads to be a part of the application process. Mr. Milroy agrees, and three days later, the newspaper with the ad is placed on Mrs. Oldershaw’s doorstep.

Ch. III - “The Claims of Society”

Midwinter, like his friend, decides to explore his new surroundings. He finds a room with books that is eerily similar to the room Allan described from his dream. It appears to be the room that Allan’s mother sought refuge in as a widow, waiting for the birth of her child. He marks the irony of his finding this place instead of Allan but when Allan enters, he doesn’t even recognize the room.

Over breakfast, Allan receives a solicitation for business from a lawyer other than the entrenched estate lawyer. A footman is sent to the estate lawyer with a request for his service and returns with an evasive reply. Midwinter questions him and discovers that the entire town is offended by Allan’s clearly deliberate avoidance of their planned welcome. Midwinter coaxes Allan into an apology tour of the most influential citizens. Allan is less than enthused about this (he wishes he could change places with one of his own cows) but is preparing to go out when he receives the lawyer’s reply. Mr. Darch turns down Allan’s offer of service, citing his offense at Allan’s having given the cottage to strangers “ over a man who had faithfully served [his] relatives for two generations” and you have to admit, he has a point! Allan, with his usual good judgement, sends a reply to Mr. Darch that compares the lawyer to a bull and other infelicitous expressions. He dismisses Midwinter’s concerns and leaves to start calling on offended people.

Ch. VI - “The March of Events”

Midwinter starts looking over the steward’s books but is overwhelmed and closes them in despair. He starts walking in the direction of the Milroys’ cottage. Drawing close to it, he overhears the harsh, complaining voice of a woman and the soothing response of a man. He sees Miss Milroy at the window, looking sad and weary, a sharp contrast to the playful, pretty girl described by Allan. A maid’s remark to a delivery boy seals his comprehension of the situation–”If it would only please God to take the missus, it would be a blessing to everybody in the house” (196). Midwinter once again wonders why he must be the one to discover this sad state of affairs.

He walks for over an hour and finds himself uncertain of the way back. A poorly-dressed old man passes and gives him directions, seeming grateful for Midwinter’s civility. Allan arrives soon after, and (big surprise!) he was not successful in smoothing the ruffled feathers of his neighbors. Clearly, they were taken aback to find that the new squire not only lacks a college education but also despises hunting, that prerequisite for any pretension to gentility. Poor Allan tried, in his own blundering way, but only succeeded in making it worse. He doesn’t really care–he has the people he cares for in his life, he has met a pretty girl who likes him, and the rest is immaterial to him. He has also met and engaged the Pedgifts as his lawyers despite Midwinter’s plea to wait.

Allan sends a basket of strawberries to Mrs. Milroy, which are immediately returned with a curt note that they upset her stomach. He calls at the cottage every day but only sees her father, who appears kind but distracted. Both Allan and Midwinter are cheered by a letter from Mr. Brock, promising to visit and endorsing Midwinter in the position of steward.

Allan heads, as usual, for the cottage and is rewarded by the sight of Miss Milroy. She apologizes for her mother’s reception of the fruit, which she just discovered. They flirt some more and Miss Milroy informs Allan that her new governess is all but engaged–and it is Miss Gwilt! Allan leaves the cottage thinking that maybe if he gets married his neighbors will like him better and decides to talk to Midwinter about it. Midwinter, though, has received a letter from Mr. Brock telling him that he has found the mysterious lady with the paisley shawl and has heard her, along with her elderly female companion, discussing Allan. He promises to keep her under observation. Midwinter believes that nothing will stop the woman from coming to Thorpe-Ambrose (fate again).

Ch. V - “Mother Oldershaw On Her Guard”

The chapter begins with a letter from Mrs. Oldershaw to Miss Gwilt and covers the event Mr. Brock writes to Midwinter about. After spying Miss Gwilt in Kensington Gardens, he follows her and Mrs. Oldershaw back to the older woman’s home. Mrs. Oldershaw follows him and accosts him, forcing him to admit that he recognizes Lydia Gwilt. Mrs. Oldershaw tries to convince him that Lydia has changed but he doesn’t believe it. They part with neither giving an inch to the other.

Lydia responds with a letter informing her co-conspirator that they are now being watched night and day by the reverend and outlining a plan that will allow both women to slip out and relocate to an apartment they rented in the fashionable part of town to pass Major Milroy’s reference check. Mrs. Oldershaw’s response scolds Lydia for her tone and improves on the younger woman’s plan of using the housemaid to escape. Mrs. Oldershaw proposes leading Mr. Brock to believe that the maid is Lydia; this would give Mr. Brock the wrong face to identify her in the future.

Ch. VI - “Midwinter in Disguise”
Mr. Brock’s letter has hit Midwinter like a thunderbolt. He is convinced that the unknown woman represents the doom that he has tried so assiduously to avoid and that there is no way to prevent her arriving to destroy the lives of Allan and himself. In an effort to hide his worry from Allan, he suddenly becomes loud and boisterous. You would think this would be a dead giveaway to Allan that there is something seriously wrong, but oh no! He is confused for a minute, but then is totally on board with this maniacal version of his friend. He even takes him to meet Miss Milroy. Unsurprisingly, this is a train wreck which ends in Midwinter being dragged outside by Allan, who finally sees that his friend is acting like a lunatic. Midwinter says he can’t explain it but begs forgiveness from Allan, and asks him to offer apologies to the Milroys. Mr. Milroy accepts this good-naturedly, but Miss Milroy is still too annoyed and is cool to Allan, who decides to put his marriage plans on hold for now.

Ch. VII - “The Plot Thickens”

The next day, Midwinter is pale and subdued and keeps his distance. Allan, in an effort to win Miss Milroy’s favor again, decides to host a picnic. Upon Miss Milroy’s receipt of the invitation, we learn that she repented of her coldness immediately. Later, Mr. Bashwood, the gentleman from the law firm who is to help Midwinter settle into the steward position, shows up, and it is the old man who gave Midwinter directions when he was lost. Midwinter both pities and distrusts him, this “pitiable creature” in his worn clothes, with his ill-fitting wig and false teeth; a “poor broken down nervous wretch” with the timidity of a child.

Allan leaves the two men alone to talk business, but Midwinter can tell that he is unimpressed with Mr. Bashwood. He, on the other hand, finds himself increasingly drawn to him once they are alone. Mr. Bashwood shares his sad life story with Midwinter, who sympathizes with the pitiful old man and engages him to instruct him. The next day, Midwinter receives another letter from Mr. Brock, telling him of his encounter with Mrs. Oldershaw and confirming that their diabolical scheme to mislead him about Lydia’s identity is working. He promises to keep watch on Lydia, and Midwinter wonders how much longer before she (doom) arrives for them. The narrator assures us that the time is close at hand.

Monday arrives, and Midwinter starts his lessons with Mr. Bashwood while Allan immerses himself in picnic plans. The only fly in the ointment is Midwinter’s adamant refusal to interrupt his lessons for the picnic. He finally agrees to join them in the evening. On the day of the picnic, Allan learns that Miss Gwilt may arrive that day and he arranges for a chaise to be waiting to bring her to the party. With all problems dispatched, they set off for the cottage.

So what are your thoughts on these chapters? What do you think about the new characters that have been added? We have also learned more about the Milroys–does that alter your opinion of them? What is your opinion of Collins’ strategy of introducing Lydia Gwilt and Mrs. Oldershaw via letters? Were you shocked by Midwinter’s meltdown?

Please share your impressions, questions, or predictions!

I've been reading along and reading comments but not commenting. This is my 5th Collins novel and I am enjoying it very much, even though it may be the most melodramatic and implausible. By implausible, I really mean just the lack of a full portrayal of the why of various actions, such as why Allan got so enamored with Midwinter. Certain things just happen because its convenient. to the plot, saving Collins the task of building an explanation through scene and dialogue-writing.

But I guess I let some of these 'conveniences' slide if they make for a more entertaining reading experience. When I read Collins, I expect as entertaining sensation novel reflecting the popular novel of the time. I don't look to it for its full literary merits as I would a George Eliot novel. Of course when these 'shortcuts' for drama get ridiculous, as with the Moonstone's resolution, it does detract from the overall read.

At this point, its too soon to tell where this one will fall as it straddles the fence with being overly melodramatic. As of now, though, I'm enjoying the ride, except that I can see where Allan's naively self-assured antics might soon get too tiresome. It could even achieve do that in the next section.

Brian E wrote: "By implausible, I really mean just the lack of a full portrayal of the why of various actions, such as why Allan got so enamored with Midwinter...."

I agree. I mentioned on the previous thread that Allan is not very reflective and acts impulsively, but there's not a strong reason (other than Midwinter's knowledge of sailing) for him to form such a strong attachment. Midwinter's feelings for Allan are more plausible, based as they are in gratitude. Maybe Allan subconsciously realizes that he needs someone around with some sense since he seems to have precious little. Since Midwinter does have sense, I, like you, don't see how he doesn't get weary of Allan's never-ending stream of bad decisions. It has to be some sort of record, how quickly he made everyone in his new town hate him! LOL

I don't find Allan and Midwinter's bond particularly implausible, except in how quickly it formed. Allan is impulsive but also sheltered; he wants a life of adventure and Midwinter represents that. While Midwinter, of course, is craving affection and Allan gives it to him so easily.

My favourite part of this section was "Midwinter in disguise," where he goes completely off the rails after being dour with Allan at breakfast. Honestly, he seemed practically manic depressive in this episode. He is clearly a very troubled man and I think this sets up how these characters might ultimately have a wedge driven between them.

I really want Lydia to arrive properly. The letters are not doing it for me (although Mrs Oldshaw is good fun). I've now read 300 pages in my edition and the woman who is the main interest of this book hasn't arrived yet. Miss Milroy is a tedious invention, Allan is a bit grating, and for a "sensational" novel, not a lot is happening. I feel like I can see Collins keeping an eye on his wordcount and thinking he needs another two chapters so why not have Brock see Lydia in London and then a whole contrived back and forth about how we're going to have him "unsee" her... whereas another novelist would just have Lydia arrive in the neighbourhood and get things moving.

Also, I don't trust Mr Bashwood. I suspect he is the alcoholic.

Emmeline wrote: "I don't find Allan and Midwinter's bond particularly implausible, except in how quickly it formed. Allan is impulsive but also sheltered; he wants a life of adventure and Midwinter represents that. While Midwinter, of course, is craving affection and Allan gives it to him so easily....."

I see your point. I still think it is more heavily weighted on Midwinter's side since Midwinter's predilection is based on Allan's true identity; Allan's fascination with him is based on his difference from Allan's neighbors and isn't really based on who Midwinter is. Midwinter has shared almost nothing about himself with Allan except for a few vague details, such as that he has knowledge of sailing. However, it is not unheard of for people to form friendships based almost entirely on one shared interest when they have next to nothing in common outside of that, so I suppose Collins is not really stretching that much into implausibility.

We are waiting Miss Gwilt's arrival with bated breath (at least, I am!) and the suspense is being prolonged. I believe, though, that the introduction of her by letters does serve a purpose. For one thing, getting inside her head like this adds a layer of psychological depth to her character that we wouldn't get from a narrator. We are presented with two versions of Lydia--the circumspect governess that she appears to be to the people of Thorpe-Ambrose, and the manipulative opportunist that she really is, which is revealed in her correspondence, which, to me, might be a more effective juxtaposition of her dual nature than through narration. The letters not only inform the readers of her scheming but also allow us to hear her tone. We learn, through their rough back-and-forth, that her partnership with this Mrs. Oldshaw is of long standing and that there are quite a few peccadillos in their past. I feel that Collins succeeds in giving us so much information about Lydia's personality and past in this indirect way, which is ultimately much more interesting than having it dumped in our laps via narrator.

I do get your point about the Mr. Brock episode--I felt that the explanations of their strategies to rid themselves of him was a bit much!

Emmeline wrote: "I don't find Allan and Midwinter's bond particularly implausible, except in how quickly it formed. .."

That's all I meant by implausible. That such a bond doesn't just happen. As I stated, Collins seems to take certain shortcuts rather than craft scenes and dialogue showing a character development. I decided that its acceptable for him to do this since this is a sensation novel and he doesn't want to 'slow' things down. We really don't need a 1000 page rather than 800 page Armadale. But its writing like that that has me generally rating Collins' fairly enjoyable books at 3 rather than 4 stars.

Having had to put up with the nervous and increasingly depressive Midwinter and the genial yet naive and increasing stupid Armadale, it was almost a breath of fresh air when two supremely confident villains were introduced, armed with intelligence, guile and complete disregard for anyone else but themselves.

Even the astute and well meaning Brock has already been completely outwitted by these prospective partners in crime. Although was it really a crime for Lydia to plot to marry Allan?
Yes, she is only in it for the money but I’m not sure if Armadale really deserves to be the ‘Lord and Master.’

Collins created a very ‘modern’ malefactor in Lydia Gwilt. The darkly, dangerous protagonist with revenge uppermost on her mind. Today’s TV and movie schedules are awash with them. They always have something in their past that can be used to at least partly mitigate their evil deeds.

Armadale’s treatment of his servants was ridiculously pompous and at times vile, as if he was in contention for ‘Upper Class Twit of the Year’ (Only meaningful to Monty Python viewers.) It is a well known fact that many aristocrats treated their servants abominably but Allan was cringeworthy and disgustingly so with the maid he met on the stairs. The problem was that he didn’t seem to realise how bad he was. In fact he thought just the opposite.

Midwinter’s attempt at disguising his concerns was equally ridiculous and the fact that Armadale didn’t realise that Midwinter was pretending just showed what an idiot he really was. Miss Milroy might be somewhat of an enigma herself, but at least she recognised straight away that something was badly amiss with Allan’s friend. I am hoping that there is more to Miss Milroy that we have yet seen and that she gives Lydia Gwilt a run for her money. However it is only a hope that good triumphs over evil. Miss Milroy is barely out of childhood and the experience from the hard life that Miss Gwilt has already experienced must make Lydia a strong favourite.

As for Midwinter and Armadale, I can understand why Ozias is quaking in his boots because, as things stand, they will be no match for Lydia.

John Harrison's Clock at Nostell
Nostell is home to a John Harrison Clock. The mechanism of this rare, early clock is made of wood and there are only three known to have survived from this time. This is the latest, created in 1717.

Midwinter’s humiliation of Milroy and his daughter when the clock goes wrong reminded me of how close I live to the place where John Harrison was born on the Nostell Priory Estate. According to Neil Armstrong, John Harrison’s work with clocks paved the way for his landing on the moon.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Ha...

Although I have not seen the clock at Strasbourg ….

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Strasbo...

…..I have seen the Prague Astronomical Clock in the Old Town Square, which has similar features.

Trev wrote: "Having had to put up with the nervous and increasingly depressive Midwinter and the genial yet naive and increasing stupid Armadale, it was almost a breath of fresh air when two supremely confident villains were introduced, armed with intelligence, guile and complete disregard for anyone else but themselves. ..."

So true, Trev! I am really looking forward to seeing Lydia's effect on the neighborhood and watch her try to overcome the advantage Miss Milroy already has. Lydia is on the cougarish side compared to the dewy-fresh Miss Milroy, not to mention that Allan has already fallen for the younger woman. On the other hand, the only information we have about Lydia's looks indicate that she is attractive and possibly young-looking, while Miss Milroy's description was somewhat ambiguous and might mean that she is not as pretty as Lydia. Is Allan's love true, or will he prove fickle? We shall see!

Thank you so much for sharing the pictures and info about the clocks. That is absolutely fascinating! I had no idea that they had so much complexity. Mr. Milroy's clock sounded complex, but then it also didn't work right, so... but these are beautiful!

Trev wrote: "Allan was cringeworthy and disgustingly so with the maid he met on the stairs. "

Agreed - I wrote "UGH!" in the margin of my book at that point!

Lorna wrote: "Trev wrote: "Allan was cringeworthy and disgustingly so with the maid he met on the stairs. "

Agreed - I wrote "UGH!" in the margin of my book at that point!"

Yes, he is a cringemaster! He seems like a nice fellow, but is that really enough? To me, if I were Midwinter, I would feel like an adult trying to be best friends with a nine-year-old. While Allan's compassion and generosity are sincere, and Midwinter has cause for his gratitude, I just have trouble believing it is enough to overlook the great disparity in their intellectual and maturity levels. To me, it would seem a punishment to be the 24/7 companion of someone so foolish and shallow. Then again, I've never had to live in a ditch with dancing dogs, so maybe that makes a difference!

You put that so well, Cindy! I couldn’t agree with you more that it would seem like a punishment to be with Allan constantly. I completely understand why the family lawyer would be so annoyed that his recommendation for the tenancy of the cottage would be ignored – I wrote “Well said!” in the margin when I read Mr Darch’s letter to Allan. And to decide the question on the toss of a coin is another example of Allan's immaturity. Really, as soon as Allan knew that Mr Milroy had a daughter, he was keen for them to move in. If there had been no daughter, he may well have just gone with Darch’s recommendation. And whilst I don’t think it’s entirely fair of all the locals to write Allan off because he didn’t go to Oxbridge and doesn’t like hunting, I was quite pleased that a lot of people took against him!

The technique of introducing Lydia through letters is interesting, and we probably get some insights into her character that we wouldn’t if the events were just narrated. For example I noticed her passing reference to the fact that she always wears her veil down in public after what happened to her in the past – I can’t remember the exact words but it was something implying that she had become notorious and attracted public attention in some way. I am curious about how she and Mrs Oldershaw know each other – I don’t think we have been told this?

I continue to enjoy the book very much, even though both Allan and Midwinter are both total messes. In our time, I wonder if Allan would be diagnosed by a doctor as ADD. He is a kind young man, but one who cannot control his impulses and has trouble retaining information. I cringed at his treatment of the servants and at the overfamiliarity which would likely have dismayed them. Midwinter, on the other hand, has little impulsivity, a depressed personality, and a tendency to catastrophize. I still don't understand why he is so convinced that harm will come to Allan. My impression of the letter from his father was that it was a warning to stay away from Allan or tragedy would ensue; if that is the case, then Midwinter merely needs to stay away to ensure Allan's safety. Instead, he stays close in order to protect Allan. Confusing but makes for a good story. I was also uncomfortable during the chapter where Midwinter went into a manic phase. Really, both of these men need therapy and medication which, alas, was not available to them.
The theme of the novel seems to be whether the sons are visited with the sins of the fathers, or whether they have free will to put the past in the past. Obviously, the superstitious Midwinter believes the former.

Lorna wrote: "The technique of introducing Lydia through letters is interesting, and we probably get some insights into her character that we wouldn’t if the events were just narrated. ..."

I agree! I think that the letters allow us to hear their own voices. I think a lot of people will write things that they would hesitate to say out loud, which leads to a better understanding of what is going on in their heads. These casual references, as you mentioned, also provide tantalizing glimpses of their lives and past relationships in a way that would be very awkward framed as narration. The letters are particularly effective since basically, everything Lydia physically says and does is artificial since she is playing a role. The letters provide insight into the real her, even as we also absorb the persona she is playing. The correspondence between Lydia and Mrs. Othershaw is lively and interesting, as well.

Nancy wrote: "I was also uncomfortable during the chapter where Midwinter went into a manic phase. Really, both of these men need therapy and medication which, alas, was not available to them...."

Oh my gosh!! Talk about cringe! I understand that it was like a stress-related, hysterical reaction on Midwinter's part--I'm just not sure that I buy it as a valid response for Midwinter's character. I'm not saying it wasn't--my own feeling about it is definitely rooted in ignorance since I know next to nothing about anxiety disorders, etc. But to me, it just didn't ring completely true. And I know it was meant to be an anomaly, but I'm just not sure I can see him EVER behaving like that, and especially maintaining it for that extended period of time and in front of all those people. That's just my personal reaction. But what do I know? :)

Nancy wrote: "The theme of the novel seems to be whether the sons are visited with the sins of the fathers, or whether they have free will to put the past in the past. Obviously, the superstitious Midwinter believes the former...."

Definitely! Fate or free will comes up frequently--in fact, there is a chapter titled "Fate or Chance?" in the next section. Midwinter does seem to belong to the Fate side with his belief that he is doomed to hurt Allan in some way if they are together, yet he stays . . . Hmmm! I think he vacillates. Or does he? Is he choosing to stay, or is he just fated to be there, and the possibility of his leaving is just an illusion? Lydia seems to be making a conscious choice to return to the sphere of the people whose lives she impacted so long ago, but is it really her choice, or is she also just being inevitably drawn toward a fate that she set in motion years earlier?

Gosh, I totally bought Midwinter having his manic episode! I feel like he is a young man who has spent a lot of time sitting alone in ditches, and just like homeless people are prone to episodes of strangeness, I can see why Midwinter would be.

Emmeline wrote: "Gosh, I totally bought Midwinter having his manic episode! I feel like he is a young man who has spent a lot of time sitting alone in ditches, and just like homeless people are prone to episodes of..."

Other people have said the same, and I feel that your reaction is probably more typical than mine. I guess it is because my husband is a quiet, reticent sort of fellow like Midwinter--very lone-wolfish. I think the chances of him acting like that, even under extreme stress, would be as likely as him sprouting wings and flying to the moon! I suppose, though, that Midwinter could be in the beginning stages of bipolar disorder.

I think that Collins actually wrote the scene very well and offered an explanation for Midwinter's extreme behavior. Even with that, it still felt the same to me as though he had suddenly had Allan start reviewing the estate books and offering thoughtful, constructive advice to improve the finances. I felt like, who ARE you? However, I get that Midwinter became overwhelmed with stress, and Collins felt that this would be the result, so I accept that.

I guess it is a testament to Allan's emotional intelligence that he witnessed ALL of that and still didn't snap that anything was wrong with his friend until Midwinter practically started having convulsions from laughter.

I know what you mean, Cindy. I think Collins made it credible up to a point - Midwinter making such an effort to compensate for his bad mood that he went too far in the other direction and lost control of it - but I was very surprised when reading it. He seemed like a totally different person. The comparison with bipolar disorder seems a good one.

I definitely think he's bipolar! As I think I said above, manic depressive.