The Go-Between is a novel by L. P. Hartley published in His best-known work, it has been adapted several times for stage and screen. The book gives a. "The past is a foreign country: they do things differently there." Hartley's finest novel, encounters a world of unimagined luxury. The go-between by sibacgamete.cfy, one of my favourite novels, is in my mind inseparably connected with the movie directed by Joseph Losey. "The past is a foreign country: they do things differently there." For the past year or so, when I've been giving readings, I've asked the people in the audience if they know or remember LP Hartley's novel, The Go-Between. Leo is 12 years old and visiting his upper-class.
|Language:||English, Spanish, Portuguese|
|Distribution:||Free* [*Registration Required]|
L.P. Hartley's moving exploration of a young boy's loss of innocence The Go- Between is edited with an introduction and notes by Douglas. That is the famous first line of the Go-Between by L.P. Hartley. The book was published in , though it reads more like a Victorian novel. download The Go-Between (Penguin Modern Classics) New by L. P. Hartley, Douglas Brooks-Davies (ISBN: ) from site's Book Store. Everyday.
Everyone is used by them for their own means - either entertainment or enjoyment, or to strengthen their position in society.
Leo Colston was invited on a vacation to their son Marcus so he would not be bored in adult society where nobody showed interest in him - neither the father, nor the brother and sister, nor mother. Leo in his origin standing much lower, admired these people in whose power it was to destroy him with "a mockery, or bestow with a smile".
He was under the power of illusion from which he would recover. A susceptible Leo observes different bright details and they were the most "speaking" to characterize the system of social and psychological relations in a society divided by rigid partitions. Although the narrator guessed at first only dimly that he was in another world where as a representative of a lower class he was looked down.
It all started with the clothing - one of the main components of the ritual which was religiously observed in Brandy Hall. Leo had no idea why among people watching life as a ritual, he looked like a black sheep, of what Maudsley family members tactfully said him.
The most openly, childlike, Marcus enlightened Leo about the fact that only the ignorant wear school dress in vacation and that school ribbon around the hat should not be tied.
Soon it turned out that Leo had no summer suit and he became an object of ridicule in the form of polite advice and impracticable suggestions. Finally Marian offered to give Leo a summer suit and the whole family discussed in detail in which store to download it and then, after the download, - the color of the suit.
Leo was happy, it seemed that the new clothing would help him to take a more important place in the world.
Leo kept a secret entrusted to him as he was ready to do anything for Marian, and Ted referred to the noble guest with reverence. Ted was a farmer, one of those who fed England, and the narrator respectfully described him working on the field, when Leo brought him or took the notes. Ted held with dignity, although he was only a tenant of land. Ted was an unofficial rival of Lord Trimingem in the fight for the heart of Marian, but she told Leo that she and Ted had only business correspondence.
Leo held very significant information, on which depended too much - in fact the future of her family, who wanted Marian to marry the Lord, and so to strengthen their position in society. Trimingem is opposed to Ted - he is not developed physically, and on his face has a scar obtained during the Anglo-Boer War.
But the summer is hotter than is imaginable.
Walls, trees, the very ground one trod on, instead of being cool were warm to the touch: In the heat the senses, the mind, the heart, the body, all told a different tale. One felt another person, one was another person. He also happens to be a lesser person at Brandham Hall, a mere mortal among its rich gods and goddesses. Marcus's older sister, Marian, is Leo's first encounter with beauty — as if he has met not a person but a concept.
She is positioned to marry the local Viscount Winlove, Hugh Trimingham, back from the Boer war with half his face scarred so badly that he looks like the god Janus, Leo thinks; one side an end and the other a beginning. Trimingham goes about his business wounded and elegant at once, with a great deal more knowledge of what's happening than he lets on.
What's happening is this: As the mercury rises, Leo becomes a kind of Mercury himself, a deliverer of messages between Marian and her lower-class lover, the tenant farmer and local "ladykiller", Ted Burgess, who promises to teach Leo what's what when it comes to "spooning". Much of the novel's humour lies in Leo's sweet literalness, and in the interlocked layers of knowing and unknowing viewed by Colston 50 years on, then by us, far off in our so-knowing future.
His prepubescent blankness, when it comes to what "spooning" might be, makes for both funniness and discomfort. Do lady killers really kill ladies? Meanwhile, he can't say the name Hugh without it sounding, to Marian, like the word "who" or the word "you" — this in a book very much about identity, about who we are in the personal, the social, the historical and the natural senses.
Leo is a boy who loves words, was bullied in the first place for using the long word vanquished in his diary for a football match victory; when his curses, astonishingly, seem to have taken effect he ponders what the action of putting words on paper might mean. As much as it is a revelation of the childishness of social hierarchy, of human delusions of power, and of the tragedy inevitable where war or history and innocence meet, Hartley's novel is a fine disquisition on appearance versus naked truth.
A beautifully poised bathing scene "the word denoted an intenser experience than it does now" highlights the apartness of men and women and the frissons of the body. Leo observes the beautiful cornfield-coloured body of Ted Burgess for the first time; it "spoke to me of something I did not know. The more clothes Ted had on, "the less he looked himself".
This is a novel of memorably dressed-up theatrical set-pieces: The novel signals itself and its seeming concerns almost too clearly — the beautiful doomed farmer cleaning his gun so assiduously.
In fact its self-conscious narrative quality, at a glance, can seem a little crude, like a too-obvious jigsaw. But to think this is — yes — naive: The Go-Between is a work winged at the heel and rises above its earthy self in a voice that's expansive.
It is a masterpiece of double-speak and secrecy, somehow both ambiguous and direct. It works a magic on obviousness, so that it becomes a novel about British embarrassment and embarrassing Britishness. It's a book which subtly, almost mischievously, rejects subtlety: With its vision of "foreignness", of the marginalisations inherent in class and sexuality, of the different possible self, the "different tale", it can also be seen as a gentle gay novel, and one of immense sophistication.
Part defeated by repression, part glorious in discretion, part melodrama, part Hardy, part Lawrence; I wonder if its appearance in and its boldness then with the more surface issues of class and sexuality are partly responsible for Lady Chatterley's Lover finally seeing unexpurgated publication, which it did a decade after the appearance of The Go-Between.
Its spirit, unlike Chatterley's, is gloomed, overshadowed by terrible new knowledge, two world wars, the Holocaust and the atom bomb: Hartley returns again and again in his critical essays, bewilderedly, as if he can't look away, to this "abyss". So the novel looks backwards in essence, but one half of its face, its war-scarred, war-numbed half, looks forwards, towards Larkin, towards the literary realism of the late s and early 60s.