Posted by fústar in 
"Oh that Aleister Crowley", my (fictional) grand-aunt usedn't to say, "He was an awful man entirely!"
"Wicked, he was", she usedn't go on, "Pure wicked. The baldy head on him and the bulging eyes. He'd give you a bad dose of the heebie-jeebies. Desperate!"
Have a squint at this if you don't believe her…
Thrill with the lissome lust of the light,
O man! My man!
Come careering out of the night
Of Pan! Io Pan!
Io Pan! Io Pan! Come over the sea
From Sicily and from Arcady!
Roaming as Bacchus, with fauns and pards
And nymphs and satyrs for thy guards,
On a milk-white ass, come over the sea
To me, to me!1
Fortunately for us (and our discussion of, among other things, the great god Pan) this is to be the seventh meeting of our Dreadful Thoughts Story Club. Good old lucky/mystical number seven. It shall, surely, cast its magical net about us and keep us safe from the frolicking and trampling hooves without.
Within this charmed circle we shall be chewing over E. F. Benson's "The Man Who Went Too Far" (1912) – a story that seems (at first glance) to do exactly what it says on the tin.
Terror, joy, suffering, bliss – these meaty ingredients are all here (plus some freaky "bleating" laughter). Time to uncork the nearest bottle o' plonk, light a contemplative pipe, listen to the latest DT mixtape (courtesy of the lovely Niall), and revel in the oneness of all things.
Begin.
- Aleister Crowley, 1929 – "Hymn to Pan" (excerpt). [back]
Mehhheheheheh!
Carrump! Carrump! Carrump!
Er…that was supposed to sound like hooves…
The Colin Newman song disappeared, and now I can’t re-upload it. Some sinful goat in Killorglin has probably kicked a satellite dish down. Again.
Hee.
Well, I don’t quite know what to make of this one, a new one for me.
I loved the pastoral English English, midsummerness of the descriptions. Lovely reading.
The Dorian Gray type youthfulness of Frank was good, as was the way it was accepted.
I’m disappointed by the ending though. Odd. The logistics of the murder seem bizarre to me – to be kicked to death by Pan whilst sitting up in a hammock??
It smacked of a reinforcement of the Christian lesson that Pan and the Paganness, nature and unbridled sexuality he stands for, is The Devil. You might think it’s all about joy and stroking ducks, but oh no, it’s The Devil and he’ll kick you to death in the end and chuckle while he’s doing it, you chump.
Has anyone read Tom Robbins’ ‘Jitterbug Perfume’? Similar ideas of immortality, youthfulness, Pan, sex…
This was my first time reading The Man Who Went too Far. Negotiating the Thicket of Exposition for the first time, I didn’t notice that the woods lie without St. Faith’s Village.
It does more than it says on the tin, say ye, so gwan Fústar.
O, my, I’m going to make a stencil and spray-paint that everywhere.
Well, you can hardly blame them. If you were being routinely wrestled into submission and stuck in an elevated box (for public amusement) you’d probably be in the mood for satellite dish violence too.
Carrump! Carrump! Carrump!
Better the dish than my lovely, boyish sternum, though.
Me too. That’s one of the greatest sentences ever, Jo!
So, seriously – you found the “warning to the curious” angle of Green Tea dull and predictable {which it would have been, if it were JS Le Fanu’s intent, but it wasn’t}, but it’s fairly hard to see this story any other way, on first reading, at least. Why is The Man… different?
But seriously, Jo raises some very good points. Is this story simply a well-told but ultimately reactionary slice of Christian propaganda?
Maybe…but there’s almost constant to-ing, fro-ing and ambiguity (for me at at least).
To get us started we might look at the opening paragraphs.
Initially we’re presented with images of nature as full of life and vigour. Almost immediately after that we’re reminded of humankind’s “opposition” to that very nature – resisting it (through engineering etc) and fearing it.
The tone tos and fros from the start.
I really did just see it as having a laboured agenda. I appreciate the cruelty of nature angle, but nature is not a sadistic, giggling killer, I don’t think (mehh!)
There was no explanation for Pan’s sudden attack, why would he be bothered? If Frank was a sacrifice, why show him he joy and enyouthen him etc first?
Because all goat legged men are The Devil, that’s why. My mother said/ I never should/ play with the goat man in the wood…
This from the first paragraph…
Note – “companions”, a clearly comforting word, side by side with “presences”…something slightly more discomforting.
But despite the to-ing and fro-ing tone, the ending seems pretty emphatic. And all that went before seems just part of the temptation, Frank being toyed with.
Though what is the significance of Frank’s terrible frightened grimace relaxing into peace again after his death?
Well, I suppose if you’re going to accept Paganism and what’s the word for worship of nature and spirits etc, animism? You have to accept the reality of both positive and malign forces I suppose.
Part of the agenda was, for me, to show up the “house of cards” that was Frank’s ‘joy’. His quest for perfect joy (which, he imagines, can be found unpolluted in nature) involves a rejection of suffering and pain. He builds this perfect happiness on an ability to turn his face from things that might call his idealised view into question – the crying child for example.
Well, I think that’s a far more interesting lesson to teach. I thought Darcy’s ‘suffering’ theory was an astute observation.
But I don’t see it borne out – I felt the heavy handed and cartoonish ending failed to address that dichotomy, of there being joy and suffering in nature.
…and the pain and toil of the natural world wasn’t exactly revealed to Frank like some hidden gnosis. He took great pains to ignore what was always around him, which led to his inevitable lesson at the hooves of Pan.
One might conclude that, at the end of the day, no spiritual alignment or religious affiliation will protect you from suffering. Frank’s ambitions were seductive, but wrong ab initio.
“Let’s hear it for Frankie!”
Arg. The trouble with comment systems is unwitting overlap.
Well, the story – on a mechanical level – clearly makes no attempt to hide what’s coming (see the title for details!). Frank mentions that his “final revelation” may mean death – and he also recognises that he may feel fear when faced with it. He hopes, however, that “when it comes I hope I shall not be afraid”.
The ending seems to both demonstrate that he should have been afraid while vindicating his faith in his ultimate overcoming of this fear.
Apologies for being late- straight into the thick of it I see…or thicket may be more appropriate;-)
I do like the tone at the beginning and how it does have the slightly discomforting angle- the descriptions were quite good. I was wondering though how it was going to play out with Frank only accepting perfect happiness without seeing the negative aspects of nature…
We’ve all, I’d imagine, met/known people who’ve claimed to have reached some form of enlightenment & transcendence. In my own case, many of these individuals seemed to be “doing a Frank”. In other words they seemed only able to support this state of perfect joy by a deliberate avoidance of the ugly, brutal nastiness of life.
This, however, does not mean that this quest is without merit. Frank’s rejection of “puritanism…the religion of sour faces” is presented as pretty sound and praiseworthy. I don’t think (whatever you may think of the ending) that Benson intended the story to be a cautionary tale in the way a sour-faced puritan would have.
As with Jo I felt that the ending was fairly weak and didn’t really address how being ignorant of both sides of nature. The mechanics were there so the reader is not suprised by the ending- the story does show how he should have been afraid but I thought the the by describing the change in his face at the end from the supreme terror to smiling curves didnt particularly show this as overcoming his fear.
I wonder is that a Christian message again there – the running from the child, and D asks ‘Have you no compassion, then?’
It suggests issues in Frank’s psyche, rather than problems with the spirituality he’s discovered. He neglects the good in human qualities such as bravery, kindness, compassion, the things in us which address an manage fear and pain.
I’m still disappointed in the brutish and sadistic physicality of F’s ‘final revelation’.
What did he mean when he said he was ‘less the ape’. What had he become? More the goat? I recetntly read a fantastic book by two zoologists, called Demonic Males, by Wrangham and Peterson, about the origins of human violence in primate behaviours. Very Interesting. I’d highly recommend it.
Hi Tim. Glad you could join us.
Despite Frank turning his face from suffering I feel that the tone of the story is highly sympathetic to him. He’s not some super-human fanatic of pulp horror. He admits that his first reaction to the realisation that the music he could hear emanated from nature itself was one of pure terror.
His diligent attempts to confront, understand and overcome this terror are (I reckon!) quite movingly dealt with.
I do think Franks quest had merit and in some regards I wish more people had a touch more Frankness about them (only a touch!) The only particular cautionary thing I saw in this story was that everything should be taken in equal measure.
We commonly find that the seductive object in stories like these, viz Frank’s liberating and invigorating animism, is ultimately a ticket to ruin – obviously not the animism itself, but the way he maintained it. I rather like that Frank’s Bad Idea was his desire, however misguided and incomplete in execution, to cultivate a deeper and meaningful connection with the world around him. Sheesh.
Still, I appreciate Benson’s restraint in keeping the message supernatural but secular. It’s not like he chased away the goat with two candlesticks held like a cross, or ended with “May God have mercy on his benighted soul”. The characterization of the village as a huddling mass of the superstitious and terrified seems positively Nietzschean.
Edit, o, for Chrissake.
I may as well just let you do all the talking, because you’re anticipating all my posts!
I like that. It makes me think of the pan that stalks the woods being in stop motion animation, like the Sinbad and Jason and the Argonauts films of our youth. I can see the funny backwards goat knees now!
I agree that the story rejects Puritanism miserableness also – but then why the Pan = Satan set up? It’s as if a stern Catholic rushed in, tied up the author, and wrote the end themselves.
Good points all. Frank does seem to demonstrate a profound self-involvement that precludes compassion for his fellow man. The virtue of overcoming suffering and pain (by tackling it) seem to be cast to one side.
Where, one wonders, does that leave his curious encounter with the old woman (who Darcy describes as ugly)?
Clearly, he fancies her.
He’s a joyful Granny-fancier.
Sorry! Not only that, but you should see me now. I look 10 years younger.
Yes like the fact that it was secular- had expected The Church to be mentioned at some stage. Although as Jo said the Pan=Satan setup seemed to deviate from the rest of the story. I had expected something more supernatural for the ending to be honest than satan embodied as a goat.
Heh heh heh. Now for the science bit…
Yes, Tim! I think I was perhaps expecting that Frank would have been taken away, his body left behing covered in hoof marks, perhaps some suspicious goaty smelling fluid! And yet they would find him with a smile on his face.
He would have found joy, but perhaps unworldly joy, that he couldn’t live in the physical world and experience.
Wait, where’s the connection between capital-S Satan and the goat/Pan? We might infer it if we thought there was a sturdy Christian agenda to this story, but I didn’t see one.
Is the Pan = Satan equation made explicit though? There is a mention of an “acrid” odour I suppose, but nothing that would classify the being he encountered as categorically Satanic.
There’s a sense that Frank was being “taught a lesson” (by something) for sure, but I don’t see the Christian moral as being all that obvious.
Edit: Niall, you got there before me this time!
Heh, ‘Goat Jizz – Because I’m worth it’. Now that would be a manly cosmetic!
I would fear I’ve gone too far, but I saw Fústar’s My Little Pony porn post.
Jo, you’re on fire, tonight.
Anyway, we’ve not discussed the possibility, nay, the narrative compels us to entertain the very likelihood, of goat-buggery. We’d be remiss not to.
Edit, ….aaaand that one goes to Jo. I give up.
I look 10 years younger.
Is that the plonk effect or the communing with nature?;-)
I thought that he only stopped to talk with her as she had accepted death and that he had as well at this stage…sorry has been a week since I read the story!
When I originally referred to The Devil, I was thinking of the way that Christians used the pagan gods to teach about Christian figures – the Christian Satan seems to have slotted neatly on top of the Pagan Pan, demonising him.
This story seemed to be a clumsy extension of that lesson. Pan’sbad, m’kay?
Yeah, that bit puzzled me – it was so specific, it made me wonder if there was cultural commentary lost on me…
…or maybe there are just a lot of goats in the Alps.
Presumably it’s just the smell of goat.
But he did end up in a (post-mortem) state of serenity, no? He went through hideous terror to get there, ’tis true, but he more or less anticipated this himself.
You can’t go too far here. That’s a promise straight from the mouth of the creator. Pan is well known for his sexual dynamism after all – a fact no doubt well documented in classical slash fiction…
…the fragrance of tomorrow…
No kidding.
Possibly. Frank does say…
…which could either mean that she’s a fellow “searcher” or that, as you suggest, she has accepted death (or ‘joy’ depending on your metaphysical outlook).
I think we broke the discussion.
We have strayed into the realm of Carry on Pan a little I suppose…
“Are they pipes hidden in yer fur or are ya just happy to see me?!”
“These pipes need cleanin’, luv!”
Hey, maybe there’s another filthy badge in this for you.
To get back on track (Mehhheheheheh!) there’s the whole issue of fear to discuss.
Frank repeatedly mentions fear as a negative that he is trying to escape from. He admits that it overcame him when first he heard the pipes of Pan/Nature and struggles to overcome it.
Clearly, he doesn’t. He ends his life in a state of total terror. Could this be telling us something about repressed or recklessly ignored fear? In other words, does Frank really face up to his fear or does he just pretend to – with bluster and (apparent) self-confidence?
Is it his fear that contributes to his ultimate fate?
Sorry, a brief break to chat to my poor neglected husband.
Yes think it has stra-a-a-a-yed a bit ! Had my own hooved creatures to deal with there.
With the issue of the sharp smell- this is where I thought that it would be more supernatural- more likely that he was struck down by lightning or something that would occur in nature that wasn’t tangible…as was the music that only he could hear.
They’d make a nice pair awright!
Hmmm…better stop now…
Huzzah! the Muxtape has been restored.
I think that it was just self-confidence- Frank thought that he was facing up to his fear but he realised at the end that he had only fooled himself. As to his fate- I think it was his total ignorance of any negative aspects of nature that contributed to his outcome.
Hm. Do you think it possible that, had Frank met Pan/the goat {why am I making a distinction?} fearlessly, even lovingly, the story might have ended differently?
RE: the ending – it should be noted that the story (like a lot of horror tales) retains a certain narrative ambiguity due to the fact that the person presenting the tale to us is not one of the people who actually experienced it.
The “author”, who we meet only in the introduction, is a friend of Darcy’s (not Darcy himself). He bases the account mainly on Darcy’s testimony but also on that of the villagers.
The point here is that Benson (the actual author) can side-step definitive interpretations. Perhaps the ending (as told) came more from the villagers’ accounts than from Darcy’s. Maybe a combination of the two?
In any event, it doesn’t mean that this was literally what was seen.
But it was pretty descriptive. Darcy and the servant’s conversation. The clothes, all from Darcy’s pespective.
I’d recommend the Tom Robbins book, it’s alovely read – a very nice foil to this story.
And a stonking mixtape it is. I’m on my third listen. The best one yet.
Yes, the unreliability of the tale is implicit, but what does that realization give you?
I’ve given you a page in the notebook, so keep the recommendations coming.
I had expected him to meet a presence/force fearlessly but I dont think this would have changed the outcome of the story…whether the presence/force was embodied in a goat or not.
Have to run now but catch you guys the next time!
Possibly! I think Tim’s right to say “that he had only fooled himself” – and this realisation comes too late.
I don’t think he had conquered fear and suffering (etc) – he’d merely repressed and buried it (even though most of his observations about Puritanism are spot on).
Another possibility is that the creature who left its mark on him was not, in fact, the creature whose pipes he had heard. It may, instead, have been some destructive product of his own fear (or something that saw in his fear an opportunity for evil).
Deleting half formed point, too sleepy to continue now!
Fústar, what notebook is this? A wordpress novely I am not privy to! Tell me where to look?
Ah, Fústar, you’re back to the monkey now.
So long, Tim.
I know! Everything comes back to “the monkey” – it that is never literal but still “real” in a broad sense.
Jo, I’m not Fústar, but I’m a little more low-tech than that – you get a page in the Moleskine.
See ya, Tim. Thanks for the company.
It gives you what it gives you in all such tales – a doubt about narrative authority. Benson, I’m sure, would have realised this.
I wonder if the narrator shares this view. This sentence has always struck me:
I mean, one’s initial reaction is an obnoxious “No fucking duh,” but there’s a quiet scepticism to this story that adds a nice flavour.
Edit, and he did it again.
Har! And with that, I withdraw. Time for sleep and dreams of bleating laughter and nature’s “sweet embrace”. Gulp…
Thanks lads and lassies. Enjoyed it.
‘Night.
I don’t see much material here to take us beyond some inchoate ambiguity – “Then again, that may not be how it happened.” There are no other possibilities or agendas hinted at, so all we have to pin this ambiguity on is that some of the story came from the villagers, and most of it from Darcy, who appears to have no agenda of his own. I think Benson would have known how to use that ambiguity more effectively.
Ah, c’mon.
Oops, sorry niall.
Goats and monkeys. What next. Evil shellfish?
Hey, has anyone written anything? I’d love to see what you’re coming up with. I forced myself to have some ideas but I suspect they are terrible bilge.
I must go. I’m hoping to bake for the Green party fundraiser in Leopardstown Racecourse on Sunday. Ironic, as I’ll be using fossil fuel to bake my buns. So I have to work out prices and see if they’ll bite! And v sleepy – finished up last batch of corrections at three am last night. Yawn!
Thanks for the fun, I like the story.
That’s true (in a way). Viewed from that perspective it leads to a pretty underwhelming dead end that even the laziest hack could manage to construct.
I’m not suggesting that (“in story”) narrative ambiguity should mask a (genuine)lack of narrative clarity or ambition.
Having said that, I don’t know about Darcy’s lack of agenda. On a few occasions his stolid “Englishness” is commented on. Combine this with the villagers’ (stated) folk beliefs and you might not have an account that is free from “interference”.
Only scraps and fragments that are, most likely, “terrible bilge” too.
I have volumes of (spooky) poetry from my early days that I could throw at ya but they’re full of the usual pretentious cack and arse of youth! Not fun (or good).
Wasn’t I going to bed?
Eh, my efforts have been fairly underwhelming. They seem more compelling when I’m drinking.
Of course not, but there’s scant difference between the two in this story. Green Tea offers enough material for the reader to draw disparate conclusions {Hesselius’ agenda at the end of his account, eg, is fairly clear}. I just don’t se the raw materials to make that fruitful here.
I agree niall.
It’s a fair cop! Benson is no LeFanu – I’ll happily give you that. He is what he is, and what he is is pretty interesting in its own right – though (patently) lacking the sophistication and (for want of a better word) genius of LeFanu.
I may be straining to demonstrate a carefully crafted narrative ambiguity here (Devil’s advocate!) but I still maintain there’s (much) more to this than the basic “Don’t overstep proper bounds” plot elements may seem to suggest.
No one here thinks it’s a matter of overstepping bounds, surely – we all agree that there’s no miserablist Puritan agenda at play {well, Jo may demur, in citing the historical conflation of Pan/Animist beliefs and th’divvil}. If anything, the lesson seems to be that there’s no panacea for modern life – Frank is a paragon of youthful health and virtue, but he’s unwittingly removed himself from the world, and now he’s dead. Meanwhile, staunch Darcy may be proper and Christian, but he’s old, sick, dying, and not really vindicated at the end of the story.
Alright bedtime. I’ll shut my eyes and pretend the lowing cows in my back yard don’t sound like they’re coming closer to the house this windy night.
niall – a depressing summation – perhaps we should all be aiming to be the jolly wrinkly old darling.
You’ll be fine, tucked up under the covers – just as long as you don’t hear a carrump carrump MEHHHH!
Don’t get me wrong, I thought there was a lot in this story, I liked the writing, I just felt it was knocked on the head by the ending.
Carrump! Carrump! Carrump!
Mehhheheheheh!
Sleep tight all.