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    Fifty Orwell Essays

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    etc., etc. The editors evidently expect their readers to be aged round

      about fourteen, and the advertisements (milk chocolate, postage stamps,

      water pistols, blushing cured, home conjuring tricks, itching powder, the

      Phine Phun Ring which runs a needle into your friend's hand, etc., etc.)

      indicate roughly the same age; there are also the Admiralty

      advertisements, however, which call for youths between seventeen and

      twenty-two. And there is no question that these papers are also read by

      adults. It is quite common for people to write to the editor and say that

      they have read every number of the GEM or MAGNET for the past thirty

      years. Here, for instance, is a letter from a lady in Salisbury:

      I can say of your splendid yams of Harry Wharton & Co. of Greyfriars,

      that they never fail to reach a high standard. Without doubt they are the

      finest stories of their type on the market to-day, which is saying a good

      deal. They seem to bring you face to face with Nature. I have taken the

      Magnet from the start, and have followed the adventures of Harry Wharton

      & Co. with rapt interest. I have no sons, but two daughters, and there's

      always a rush to be the first to read the grand old paper. My husband,

      too, was a staunch reader of the Magnet until he was suddenly taken away

      from us.

      It is well worth getting hold of some copies of the GEM and MAGNET,

      especially the GEM, simply to have a look at the correspondence columns.

      What is truly startling is the intense interest with which the pettiest

      details of life at Greyfriars and St Jim's are followed up. Here, for

      instance, are a few of the questions sent in by readers:

      What age is Dick Roylance?' 'How old is St Jim's?' 'Can you give me a

      list of the Shell and their studies?' 'How much did D'Arcy's monocle

      cost?' 'How is it that fellows like Crooke are in the Shell and decent

      fellows like yourself are only in the Fourth?' 'What arc the Form

      captain's three chief duties?' 'Who is the chemistry master at St Jim's?'

      (From a girl) 'Where is St Jim's situated? COULD you tell me how to get

      there, as I would love to sec the building? Are you boys just "phoneys",

      as I think you are?'

      It is clear that many of the boys and girls who write these letters are

      living a complete fantasy-life. Sometimes a boy will write, for instance,

      giving his age, height, weight, chest and bicep measurements and asking

      which member of the Shell or Fourth Form he most exactly resembles. The

      demand for a list of the studies on the Shell passage, with an exact

      account of who lives in each, is a very common one. The editors, of

      course, do everything in their power to keep up the illusion. In the GEM

      Jack Blake is supposed to write answers to correspondents, and in the

      MAGNET a couple of pages is always given up to the school magazine (the

      GREYFRIARS HERALD, edited by Harry Wharton), and there is another page

      in which one or other character is written up each week. The stories run

      in cycles, two or three characters being kept in the foreground for

      several weeks at a time. First there will be a series of rollicking

      adventure stories, featuring the Famous Five and Billy Bunter; then a run

      of stories turning on mistaken identity, with Wibley (the make-up wizard)

      in the star part; then a run of more serious stories in which

      Vernon-Smith is trembling on the verge of expulsion. And here one comes

      upon the real secret of the GEM and MAGNET and the probable reason why

      they continue to be read in spite of their obvious out-of-dateness.

      It is that the characters are so carefully graded as to give almost every

      type of reader a character he can identify himself with. Most boys'

      papers aim at doing this, hence the boy-assistant (Sexton Blake's Tinker,

      Nelson Lee's Nipper, etc.) who usually accompanies the explorer,

      detective or what-not on his adventures. But in these cases there is only

      one boy, and usually it is much the same type of boy. In the GEM and

      MAGNET there is a model for very nearly everybody. There is the normal

      athletic, high-spirited boy (Tom Merry, Jack Blake, Frank Nugent), a

      slightly rowdier version of this type (Bob Cherry), a more aristocratic

      version (Talbot, Manners), a quieter, more serious version (Harry

      Wharton), and a stolid, 'bulldog' version (Johnny Bull). Then there is

      the reckless, dare-devil type of boy (Vernon-Smith), the definitely

      'clever', studious boy (Mark Linley, Dick Penfold), and the eccentric boy

      who is not good at games but possesses some special talent (Skinner

      Wibley). And there is the scholarship-boy (Tom Redwing), an important

      figure in this class of story because he makes it possible for boys from

      very poor homes to project themselves into the public-school atmosphere.

      In addition there are Australian, Irish, Welsh, Manx, Yorkshire and

      Lancashire boys to play upon local patriotism. But the subtlety of

      characterization goes deeper than this. If one studies the correspondence

      columns one sees that there is probably NO character in the GEM and

      MAGNET whom some or other reader does not identify with, except the

      out-and-out comics, Coker, Billy Bunter, Fisher T. Fish (the

      money-grabbing American boy) and, of course, the masters. Bunter, though

      in his origin he probably owed something to the fat boy in PICKWICK, is a

      real creation. His tight trousers against which boots and canes are

      constantly thudding, his astuteness in search of food, his postal order

      which never turns up, have made him famous wherever the Union Jack waves.

      But he is not a subject for day-dreams. On the other hand, another

      seeming figure of fun, Gussy (the Honourable Arthur A. D'Arcy, 'the swell

      of St Jim's'), is evidently much admired. Like everything else in the GEM

      and MAGNET, Gussy is at least thirty years out of date. He is the 'knut'

      of the early twentieth century or even the 'masher' of the nineties ('Bai

      Jove, deah boy!' and 'Weally, I shall be obliged to give you a feahful

      thwashin'!'), the monocled idiot who made good on the fields of Mons and

      Le Gateau. And his evident popularity goes to show how deep the

      snob-appeal of this type is. English people are extremely fond of the

      titled ass (cf. Lord Peter Whimsey) who always turns up trumps in the

      moment of emergency. Here is a letter from one of Gussy's girl admirers;

      I think you're too hard on Gussy. I wonder he's still In existence, the

      way you treat him. He's my hero. Did you know I write lyrics? How's

      this--to the tune of 'Goody Goody'?

      Gonna get my gas-mask, join the ARP.

      'Cos I'm wise to all those bombs you drop on me.

      Gonna dig myself a trench

      Inside the garden fence;

      Gonna seal my windows up with tin

      So the tear gas can't get in;

      Gonna park my cannon right outside the kerb

      With a note to Adolf Hitler: 'Don't disturb!'

      And if I never fall in Nazi hands

      That's soon enough for me

      Gonna get my gas-mask, join the ARP.

      P.S.--Do you get on well with girls?

      I quote this in full because (dated April 1939) it is interesting as

      being probably the earliest mention of Hitler in the GEM. In the GEM


      there is also a heroic fat boy. Fatty Wynn, as a set-off against Bunter.

      Vernon-Smith, 'the Bounder of the Remove', a Byronic character, always on

      the verge of the sack, is another great favourite. And even some of the

      cads probably have their following. Loder, for instance, 'the rotter of

      the Sixth', is a cad, but he is also a highbrow and given to saying

      sarcastic things about football and the team spirit. The boys of the

      Remove only think him all the more of a cad for this, but a certain type

      of boy would probably identify with him. Even Racke, Grooke & Co. are

      probably admired by small boys who think it diabolically wicked to smoke

      cigarettes. (A frequent question in the correspondence column; 'What

      brand of cigarettes does Racke smoke?')

      Naturally the politics of the GEM and MAGNET are Conservative, but in a

      completely pre-1914 style, with no Fascist tinge. In reality their basic

      political assumptions are two: nothing ever changes, and foreigners are

      funny. In the GEM of 1939 Frenchmen are still Froggies and Italians are

      still Dagoes. Mossoo, the French master at Greyfriars, is the usual

      comic-paper Frog, with pointed beard, pegtop trousers, etc. Inky, the

      Indian boy, though a rajah, and therefore possessing snob-appeal, is also

      the comic babu of the PUNCH tradition. ("The rowfulness is not the

      proper caper, my esteemed Bob," said Inky. "Let dogs delight in the

      barkfulness and bitefulness, but the soft answer is the cracked pitcher

      that goes longest to a bird in the bush, as the English proverb remarks.")

      Fisher T. Fish is the old-style stage Yankee ("Waal, I guess", etc.)

      dating from a peroid of Anglo-American jealousy. Wun Lung, the

      Chinese boy (he has rather faded out of late, no doubt because some of

      the MAGNET'S readers are Straits Chinese), is the nineteenth-century

      pantomime Chinaman, with saucer-shaped hat, pigtail and pidgin-English.

      The assumption all along is not only that foreigners are comics who are

      put there for us to laugh at, but that they can be classified in much the

      same way as insects. That is why in all boys' papers, not only the GEM

      and MAGNET, a Chinese is invariably portrayed with a pigtail. It is the

      thing you recognize him by, like the Frenchman's beard or the Italian's

      barrel-organ. In papers of this kind it occasionally happens that when

      the setting of a story is in a foreign country some attempt is made to

      describe the natives as individual human beings, but as a rule it is

      assumed that foreigners of any one race are all alike and will conform

      more or less exactly to the following patterns:

      FRENCHMAN: Excitable. Wears beard, gesticulates wildly.

      SPANIARD, Mexican, etc.: Sinister, treacherous.

      ARAB, Afghan, etc.: Sinister, treacherous.

      CHINESE: Sinister, treacherous. Wears pigtail.

      ITALIAN: Excitable. Grinds barrel-organ or carries stiletto.

      SWEDE, Dane, etc.: Kind-hearted, stupid.

      NEGRO: Comic, very faithful.

      The working classes only enter into the GEM and MAGNET as comics or

      semi-villains (race-course touts, etc.). As for class-friction, trade

      unionism, strikes, slumps, unemployment, Fascism and civil war--not a

      mention. Somewhere or other in the thirty years' issue of the two papers

      you might perhaps find the word 'Socialism', but you would have to look a

      long time for it. If the Russian Revolution is anywhere referred to, it

      will be indirectly, in the word 'Bolshy' (meaning a person of violent

      disagreeable habits). Hitler and the Nazis are just beginning to make

      their appearance, in the sort of reference I quoted above. The war-crisis

      of September 1938 made just enough impression to produce a story in which

      Mr Vernon-Smith, the Bounder's millionaire father, cashed in on the

      general panic by buying up country houses in order to sell them to 'crisis

      scuttlers'. But that is probably as near to noticing the European situation

      as the GEM and MAGNET will come, until the war actually starts.

      That does not mean that these papers are unpatriotic--quite the

      contrary! Throughout the Great War the GEM and MAGNET were perhaps the

      most consistently and cheerfully patriotic papers in England. Almost

      every week the boys caught a spy or pushed a conchy into the army, and

      during the rationing period 'EAT LESS BREAD' was printed in large type on

      every page. But their patriotism has nothing whatever to do with

      power-politics or 'ideological' warfare. It is more akin to family

      loyalty, and actually it gives one a valuable clue to the attitude of

      ordinary people, especially the huge untouched block of the middle class

      and the better-off working class. These people are patriotic to the

      middle of their bones, but they do not feel that what happens in foreign

      countries is any of their business. When England is in danger they rally

      to its defence as a matter of course, but in between-times they are not

      interested. After all, England is always in the right and England always

      wins, so why worry? It is an attitude that has been shaken during the

      past twenty years, but not so deeply as is sometimes supposed. Failure to

      understand it is one of the reasons why Left Wing political parties are

      seldom able to produce an acceptable foreign policy.

      The mental world of the GEM and MAGNET, therefore, is something like

      this:

      The year is 1910--or 1940, but it is all the same. You are at

      Greyfriars, a rosy-cheeked boy of fourteen in posh tailor-made clothes,

      sitting down to tea in your study on the Remove passage after an exciting

      game of football which was won by an odd goal in the last half-minute.

      There is a cosy fire in the study, and outside the wind is whistling. The

      ivy clusters thickly round the old grey stones. The King is on his throne

      and the pound is worth a pound. Over in Europe the comic foreigners are

      jabbering and gesticulating, but the grim grey battleships of the British

      Fleet are steaming up the Channel and at the outposts of Empire the

      monocled Englishmen are holding the niggers at bay. Lord Mauleverer has

      just got another fiver and we are all settling down to a tremendous tea

      of sausages, sardines, crumpets, potted meat, jam and doughnuts. After

      tea we shall sit round the study fire having a good laugh at Billy Bunter

      and discussing the team for next week's match against Rook-wood.

      Everything is safe, solid and unquestionable. Everything will be the

      same for ever and ever. That approximately is the atmosphere.

      But now turn from the GEM and MAGNET to the more up-to-date papers which

      have appeared since the Great War. The truly significant thing is that

      they have more points of resemblance to the GEM and MAGNET than points of

      difference. But it is better to consider the differences first.

      There are eight of these newer papers, the MODERN BOY, TRIUMPH, CHAMPION,

      WIZARD, ROVER, SKIPPER, HOTSPUR and ADVENTURE. All of these have appeared

      since the Great War, but except for the MODERN BOY none of them is less

      than five years old. Two papers which ought also to be mentioned briefly

      here; though they are not strictly in the same class as the rest, are the

      DETECTIVE WEEKLY and the THRILLER, both
    owned by the Amalgamated Press.

      The DETECTIVE WEEKLY has taken over Sexton Blake. Both of these papers

      admit a certain amount of sex-interest into their stories, and though

      certainly read by boys; they are not aimed at them exclusively. All the

      others are boys' papers pure and simple, and they are sufficiently alike

      to be considered together. There does not seem to be any notable

      difference between Thomson's publications and those of the Amalgamated

      Press.

      As soon as one looks at these papers one sees their technical

      superiority to the GEM and MAGNET. To begin with, they have the great

      advantage of not being written entirely by one person. Instead of one

      long complete story, a number of the WIZARD or HOTSPUR consists of half a

      dozen or more serials, none of which goes on for ever. Consequently there

      is far more variety and far less padding, and none of the tiresome

      stylization and facetiousness of the GEM and MAGNET. Look at these two

      extracts, for example:

      Billy Bunter groaned.

      A quarter of an hour had elapsed out of the two hours that Bunter was

      booked for extra French.

      In a quarter of an hour there were only fifteen minutes! But every one of

      those minutes seemed inordinately long to Bunter. They seemed to crawl by

      like tired snails.

      Looking at the clock in Classroom No. 10 the fat Owl could hardly believe

      that only fifteen minutes had passed. It seemed more like fifteen hours,

      if not fifteen days!

      Other fellows were in extra French as well as Bunter. They did not

      matter. Bunter did! (The Magnet)

      * * *

      After a terrible climb, hacking out handholds in the smooth ice every

      step of the way up. Sergeant Lionheart Logan of the Mounties was now

      clinging like a human fly to the face of an icy cliff, as smooth and

      treacherous as a giant pane of glass.

      An Arctic blizzard, in all its fury, was buffeting his body, driving the

      blinding snow into his face, seeking to tear his fingers loose from their

      handholds and dash him to death on the jagged boulders which lay at the

      foot of the cliff a hundred feet below.

      Crouching among those boulders were eleven villainous trappers who had

      done their best to shoot down Lionheart and his companion, Constable Jim

      Rogers--until the blizzard had blotted the two Mounties out of sight

      from below. (The Wizard)

      The second extract gets you some distance with the story, the first takes

      a hundred words to tell you that Bunter is in the detention class.

      Moreover, by not concentrating on school stories (in point of numbers the

      school story slightly predominates in all these papers, except the

      THRILLER and DETECTIVE WEEKLY), the WIZARD, HOTSPUR, etc., have far

      greater opportunities for sensationalism. Merely looking at the cover

      illustrations of the papers which I have on the table in front of me,

      here are some of the things I see. On one a cowboy is clinging by his

      toes to the wing of an aeroplane in mid-air and shooting down another

      aeroplane with his revolver. On another a Chinese is swimming for his

      life down a sewer with a swarm of ravenous-looking rats swimming after

      him. On another an engineer is lighting a stick of dynamite while a steel

      robot feels for him with its claws. On another a man in airman's costume

      is fighting barehanded against a rat somewhat larger than a donkey. On

      another a nearly naked man of terrific muscular development has just

      seized a lion by the tail and flung it thirty yards over the wall of an

      arena, with the words, 'Take back your blooming lion!' Clearly no school

      story can compete with this kind of thing. From time to time the school

      buildings may catch fire or the French master may turn out to be the head

      of an international anarchist gang, but in a general way the interest

      must centre round cricket, school rivalries, practical jokes, etc. There

      is not much room for bombs, death-rays, sub-machine guns, aeroplanes,

      mustangs, octopuses, grizzly bears or gangsters.

     


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