FICTION: Boys at Whitehall

The Story.* Sam Raingo, sly master of chicane, pensively retired millionaire, is called to London by the comrade of his homely boyhood in the north of England, Andy Clyth. It is 1918. Silver-haired Andy, actor, poet, jealous but genial friend, is Prime Minister and, since the War is going well, ” the greatest man in the world.” For years he has snubbed Sam Raingo politically. Now he needs him to manage the Ministry of Records, which is to say, British propaganda at home and abroad. Over a breakfast in No. 10 Downing St. an adroit bluffing match is won by Sam, who “wangles” a peerage with his portfolio. Then a game begins.

It is a game of boys playing Indians in a thicket. There is a real War going on across the Channel, but that is a soldiers’ affair. In the warrens of Whitehall there is the war of the ministries and the boys who have played it for years are annoyed at having to let newcomers—the “mushroom” ministers—participate. Least of all are they pleased to admit Sam Raingo. His wealth and his familiarity with Andy Clyth are against him. Andy having been obliged to bring Sam into the game, would not teach him the rules even if he could afford to politically.

But Sam soon learns for himself. He achieves a tremendous success, Despite the courtly, portentous Earl of Ockleford, whose dignity as leader of the Lords is offended by Andy’s failure to consult him about Sam’s peerage; despite domineering Tom Hogarth, Minister of Munitions; despite gloomy Hasper Clews of the Exchequer, and bitterly disdainful military at the War office. He really accomplishes very little at his ministry beyond somewhat quelling Anglophobia in the French press, dispelling fear of pacifism at home, and tendering a magnificent banquet to an invasion of officious overseas journalists. But he charms the journalists into lusty, emotional cheering. His picture in the press becomes the symbol of Allied optimism. His health is a topic of interest at the Palace. He is Andy Clyth’s rival for “greatest man in the world.”

Behind his hectic official acts, Sam lives a private life. His gracious but abstracted, unaccountable wife drives into a ditch and dies, leaving him more than ever dependent on Delphine, a mistress of effulgent dark beauty whose simple devotion he is continually driven to suspect by his millionaire’s obsession with “the underlying motive.” A weak heart does not add to his joy in their relation, and in her the War had developed a vein of melancholia. Yet they have happy moments together. She is a refuge from the thoughts with which he paces the Embankment; from the ignominy of moments when he, a Minister, has nothing to do; from the whole importunate, crazy world in which he, tired, lonely, and rather fat old Sam Raingo, must play so exhausting a role.

At the peak of his success, Sam has double pneumonia. His weak heart fails slowly. As he lies grimly cheerful in bed, completely absorbed in the fate of his body, it is less and less upon his public fame, more and more upon his dead wife and Delphine that his side-thoughts turn. Delphine commits suicide, victim of melancholy. Her young sister, Gwen, arrives to lament, to accuse. She stays to love Sam’s son, Geoffrey. Sam passes his crisis but relapses. Deserted by Delphine, he utters his wife’s name as his jaw drops.

The Significance. It is underneath the structure of his stories, behind the titles and estates of his characters, that Author Bennett’s genius is to be found. It is a genius shy of formality, making hash of what is conventionally expected of it in the way of dramatic climax, contributing richly at moments when reader and characters are least expectant. Who will may hunt for traces of Lloyd George and Lord Northcliffe in Andy Clyth and Sam Raingo but the wealth of this book lies in the subtle asides of the two fictitious figures and in the host of minor characters that surrounds them: Sam’s dour man-of-all-work, Wrenkin; Andy’s idolized, pious old mother; Sam’s business factotum, Swetnam; a mystical middle-aged stenographer, Mrs. Blacklow, “the most explicitly expectant mother in fiction.”

The Author. Enoch Arnold Bennett has led an industrious, unspectacular life since being born 59 years ago among the potteries of Staffordshire. Everything interests him, especially humble, “uninteresting” people. His published books and plays, persistently captivating, now number over two score. He has a French wife, steam yacht.

*LORD RAINGO,—Arnold Bennett—Doran ($2).