The Good Soldier summary

The text for The Good Soldier can be found at Project Gutenberg or at Eldretch Press.

I have rounded up a few online resources on Ford Madox Ford.

Since The Good Soldier doesn’t really lend itself to posts on the sections as you read through them, I approached writing about the book with the following topics:

The Good Soldier: A chronology
The Good Soldier: Character list and relationships
The Good Soldier: Method of narration and Dowell’s blindness
The Good Soldier: More self-deception and pathologies
The Good Soldier: Other themes and motifs

The Good Soldier (1981 TV movie)

The Good Soldier (1981 TV movie)

The credits for The Good Soldier, produced by Granada Television, can be found at IMDB. I remember seeing this when it originally aired on Masterpiece Theatre and enjoying it immensely. I didn’t realize it would be 25 years later before I read the book.

The movie runs very true to the book despite the difficult circular nature of the novel’s narration. Using flashbacks and revisiting scenes with more detail added, the movie is able to capture some of the accretive nature in which facts are revealed instead of going strictly in chronological order. Susan Fleetwood does a wonderful job as Leonora, and it was hard for me to keep a straight face when John Ratzenberger showed up as Jimmy (he did a fine job, but I associate him with too many other roles now). The sets and locations are lovely and give you the feel of an era that is long gone.

I highly recommend the movie. That being said, it does feels stilted and tedious at times. If you’re not a fan of other Masterpiece Theatre shows, you many not like this at it has the same period-piece feel and languid pace of other productions. One of the biggest disappointments for me with the adaptation was that it did not feel like they developed the friendship between Dowell and Edward. In the book it is clear that Dowell still loves Edward in spite of everything he now knows. Yet you never see much of a friendship between the two, although I realize that class constraints would dictate the two men act as they do in the movie (it is interesting to compare the men’s staid behavior with the women’s animated actions). Maybe the warmth is all in Dowell’s head and they capture that accurately, although I believe it was just difficult to show the friendship develop beyond playing pool or hunting together.

Again, it’s a relatively minor quibble with a well done production. It is available now on DVD.

The Good Soldier: Other themes and motifs

One theme in Ford’s book is the inadequacy or irrelevance of social and religious institutions in the modern (at that time) world. That there is a moral and social shortfall is hammered home by his use of August 4th (the day Britain declared war on Germany in World War I) for all important dates in the novel. That technique feels more than a little strained. In addition, the characters are so damaged that it is difficult to tell how much of the gap between the institutional ideal and their sad reality could ever be bridged.

I highlighted the religious affiliation of the characters in the descriptions because of the poor showing religion has in the novel. I’m not sure that priests would ever advise a wife to take her husband to Monte Carlo for “a touch of irresponsibility” but in everything else which sounds realistic they did a poor job (despite Dowell thinking “it was a good idea, but it worked out wrongly”). Religion, to some extent, was one of the major sticking points between Edward and Leonora, whether in Edward’s misguided attempt to build a chapel at Branshaw or their inability to agree on what religion their children should be. For a couple that didn’t usually allow religious tenets to influence their actions, the fact that religious differences could drive such a wedge between them adds one more irony to the work. Leonora cuts herself off from the church (in order to avoid confession) at precisely the moment it should have helped her most. Whether irrelevant as an institution or the source of contention, the inability of religion to provide any guidance in the novel definitely stands out.

Marriage, whether viewed as a religious or social institution comes in for a drubbing as well, although once again I think the problems reside more with the characters than with the institution. Maybe that is Ford’s point—when something is so widely ignored or irrelevant it is no longer useful. However Dowell raises one of his many false dichotomies in his regard to marriage and society:

Mind, I am not preaching anything contrary to accepted morality. I am not advocating free love in this or any other case. Society must go on, I suppose, and society can only exist if the normal, if the virtuous, and the slightly deceitful flourish, and if the passionate, the headstrong, and the too-truthful are condemned to suicide and to madness.

Those are not the only two options, but he is unable to see other choices. One additional institution that receives a drubbing is class and the gap these characters display between their behavior and their social standing. Edward tried to represent the kindly landlord but, because of his other failings, Leonora strips him of that standing. Dowell evidently feels class is extremely important since he mentions genealogy almost immediately. Despite being part of the moneyed class and staying at expensive spas, he is still taken advantage of by others of the same class. Not to mention being cuckolded by a baggage handler.

The love/hate feelings within the marriages are interesting to watch, with Edward and Leonora continually rebalancing respect and hate for each other. Leonora’s outward kindness masks the impact of her actions. The difference between Dowell and Florence are fairly static during their marriage—John loves her in his way and Florence treats him like dirt behind his back—but John rebalances things as he works on telling the story. The question Dowell has to work through is presented early: “If for nine years I have possessed a goodly apple that is rotten at the core and discover its rottenness only in nine years and six months less four days, isn't it true to say that for nine years I possessed a goodly apple?” Lastly on all the institutions, for all the virtue and bravery Edward shows as “the good soldier,” it all ultimately rang hollow for him. None of those characteristics seem to carry over into his personal life to any benefit for him.

There are many more themes, motifs and symbols in the novel, but I think I’ve addressed more than enough and would like to move on. I did like the way most symbols or motifs ("heart" or Edward's baggage, for example) were easily worked into the story. One additional thing I wanted to mention before moving on is the total passivity of Dowell. It is hard to imagine someone that passive, that oblivious to what is going on around him. Yet his voice is so guileless, frank in its limitations that you initially trust him...want to hear his story. He is clearly airing his weaknesses in order to excuse himself as part of his attempt to justify his actions (or lack thereof). He draws you in, attempting to deceive you just like he has been tricking himself all along. The consistency in voice and action helps give his passivity credibility.

Next: the 1981 TV movie.

The Good Soldier: More self-deception and pathologies

I covered quite a bit on Dowell’s self-deception and moral blindness. The inability to face the truth or make any sense of events is his personal failing. That Dowell elevates his personal failures to not being able to understand the world or judge another’s character does not mean Ford agrees with him. I think Ford would conclude just the opposite based on the self-deceptions and pathologies he assigns to the other characters.

Florence mistakenly aggrandizes her knowledge to a level of cultural authority. I’ve mentioned earlier that Dowell contradicts or undercuts much of her tourguide performances (a trait he carries over to Florence in general), which makes much of her pronouncements both humorous and pathetic. But the cultural assumption is just one part of Florence wanting to exert control. The ironic part of Florence’s schemes to control Dowell is that they backfire—she painted herself in a corner with her “attack” at sea and now can not leave the continent. She can not obtain her wish of English gentry (and possibly even reclaiming her ancestral property from the Ashburnhams) because of her lies. Even more ironic is John buying the property at the end of the book. Dowell’s attitude toward Florence vacillates, with “poor dear Florence” being wished a tormented stay in hell the next moment.

The loss of control, first over Leonora (who, as Dowell puts it, treats Florence "like the whore she was”), then Edward (hearing him pledge his love to Nancy), and finally her cuckolded husband (who found out courtesy of Mr. Bagshawe) is what drove her to suicide.

Leonora is an interesting case, full of contradictions. The priests she has as spiritual advisers lead her to elevate Edward’s failings at fidelity to a universal truth that all men are animals. She essentially tells Edward to go ahead and have his affairs since she knows he can’t help it. She participates in choosing the paramour at times in order to maintain some control and proper appearance. If this weren’t enough to demean Edward, she takes over the finances from him which seems to totally emasculate her husband. Yet she can show kindness, forgiving her husband his dalliances or correctly deciding that Dowell can not handle the truth of his wife’s affair. This kindness can be horribly misguided, as shown by her cruelty in insisting Edward take Nancy’s innocence in order to get the girl out of his mind. Since he does not comply, she destroys Nancy’s worshipful outlook of Edward. While Leonora occasionally blames herself for differences with Edward, she never seriously considers that she has any role in Edward’s errant behavior.

Edward plays the role of the benevolent squire, viewing himself as their protector. He shows a similar chivalric outlook with most of his female conquests, first as a father figure in the Kilsyte case all the way through his tortured denial in protecting Nancy’s virginity. Edward also sabotages his chivalric notions by his self-centeredness. The best quote that highlights just how self-centered he is "He had not any idea that Florence could have committed suicide without writing at least a tirade to him. The absence of that made him certain that it had been heart disease."

One delicious irony is Dowell constantly second guessing Leonora’s actions, even after he knows everything was a sham. “Leonora should have abandoned him so precipitately when she only thought that he had gone yachting with the Clinton Morleys.” And an even more extended condemnation from Dowell:

I don't mean to say that she was doing a wrong thing. She was certainly doing right in trying to warn me that Florence was making eyes at her husband. But, if she did the right thing, she was doing it in the wrong way. Perhaps she should have reflected longer; she should have spoken, if she wanted to speak, only after reflection. Or it would have been better if she had acted--if, for instance, she had so chaperoned Florence that private communication between her and Edward became impossible. She should have gone eavesdropping; she should have watched outside bedroom doors. It is odious; but that is the way the job is done. She should have taken Edward away the moment Maisie was dead. No, she acted wrongly.

For some reason I don’t see Dowell as the best judge of what Leonora should have done. Just as Dowell's comments about Florence vacillate from love to hate, so too does his comments about the Ashburnhams. Florence receives the worst while he is generally kind toward Leonora (even though he is estranged from her at the end). Yet it is Edward that remains lovingly in Dowell’s heart. There is rarely a harsh word said about Edward, and even when doing so Dowell usually follows up with an excuse or qualifier.

Every one of the participants is badly damaged, unable to differentiate between individual failings and a universal standard. The actors betray no anchor—whether moral, spiritual, or civic—to ground or measure their actions. Ford is so consistent on this point with all of the characters that I do not believe that Dowell’s judgments speak for the author.

Next: other themes and motifs, as well as the 1981 TV movie.

The Good Soldier: Method of narration and Dowell’s blindness

“I have, I am aware, told this story in a very rambling way so that it may be difficult for anyone to find their path through what may be a sort of maze. I cannot help it.” This quote, from the start of Part IV, sums up the method quite well. John Dowell has undertaken to tell “the saddest story” as if sitting beside the fireplace with a friend. The method is reminiscent of Conrad’s Marlow, but other than being very heavy on impressions the similarity ends there. Dowell’s narration is full of confessions of doubt, ignorance, and helplessness. He implies he is writing this story to clarify events, but it quickly becomes apparent he is trying to rationalize and justify his blindness.

I mentioned in the chronology post that assembling such a timeline takes away from the effect of the narration, but such a task is necessary to reconstruct what actually happened and to compare that reconstruction to Dowell’s account of events. Without doing this, the irony of the story would be lost. Dowell is constantly asking the reader questions, many of which are rhetorical or give false choices. The facts are revealed piecemeal and at times seemingly without Dowell even realizing it.

Dowell begins by telling the story from his point of view, but occasionally adds facts gleaned from Edward or Leonora in his talks with them after Florence’s death. It is interesting that Florence is the one person from the two couples who does not have a voice in the book. In addition to gradually adding other voices to the story, Dowell comes to grips with the facts as he is conveying them. His attitude toward the subjects vacillates, sometimes from sentence to sentence, contradicting how he feels about something.

Dowell shows us a dual impressionism: he describes his impression of events as they happened in addition to his current feelings toward those events (as he processes them while writing, for maybe the first time). That he has to wait eighteen months before he can accurately describe the final days of Edward’s life is telling. Facts about Edward’s suicide are revealed almost as an appendix, casually tossed off at the end. Even with all the time and facts at his disposal, Dowell still has trouble revealing the truth to others and to himself. Or maybe he just wishes to continue his self-deception. Dowell states several times that things are “a darkness” to him still. And when he views Nancy in her current state, his description of her beauty could double for his time with Florence and the Ashburnhams: “And to think that it all means nothing—that it is a picture without a meaning.”

Things are gradually revealed in the story so that when Dowell describes an incident for a second or third time there is additional knowledge as to what is truly happening. For example, the visit to the castle at M---- is fleshed out with the additional knowledge of Edward’s and Leonora’s history to that point and Leonora’s despair takes on an added depth you can’t realize upon the first telling. The willful blindness of Dowell on the events as the originally happened is highlighted in this re-telling. He takes his own inability to see things as they truly are and falsely elevates it to an inability for any of us to know. His description of his maid is just one example of conflating the specific with the universal:

That, for instance, was the way with Florence’s maid in Paris. We used to trust that girl with blank cheques for the payment of the tradesmen. For quite a time she was so trusted by us. Then, suddenly, she stole a ring. We should no have believed her capable of it; she would not have believed herself capable of it. It was nothing in her character.

Yet Dowell has already explained how the maid stole the ring in order to save her boyfriend from going to prison. Dowell sabotages his own attempt at using this specific example as a universal law that you can’t judge someone’s character. His tentative putting forth of facts and inability to derive any lessons to be learned is his pathological response to handling this story. One last example:

I don’t know. And there is nothing to guide us. And if everything is so nebulous about a matter so elementary as the morals of sex, what is there to guide us in the more subtle morality of all other personal contacts, associations, and activities? Or are we meant to act on impulse alone? It is all a darkness.

This illustrates his inability to face up to what his life with Florence and the Ashburnhams truly was for the entire time of his relationship with each. To do so…to face up to the fact that the relationship with his wife has been a lie and his friends are cuckolding Dowell…undermines everything he has ever done with them. In Dowell’s narration he comes close to realizing and/or expressing the truth in several instances, but continually backs away from it. During the visit to the castle of M---- Dowell “was aware of something treacherous, something frightful, something evil in the day” but gladly accepts Leonora’s lie about being offended because of Florence’s comments about the Irish and the Catholics.

Dowell repeats this time and again, presenting a willful blindness in order to maintain a happy façade of meaning. As the façade crumbles, he repeatedly asks how he could have known so he can maintain at least a modicum of respect. One irony is the pride that Dowell takes in nursing Florence and being attentive to her needs—avoiding stressful subjects, respecting her locked bedroom door, etc. To be so attentive regarding a false state of affairs (which only assists her in carrying on affairs under his nose) would be quite a truth to face. And Dowell proves over and over that he can not. It is as if "You can't handle the truth" was tailor-made for him.

In the reviews I have read of the book, many of the criticisms believe such a method of narration is either unnecessary or Ford saying “look what I can do.” (I’m paraphrasing) However, I believe the method is critical to the book, providing a parallel narrative to the traditional storyline. Yes, you have to work more in piecing the two narratives together, irony is not always apparent on the first pass, and you realize the narrator can not be trusted. Yet I get the feeling that if John Dowell were to tell me the story, it would be exactly in this manner. I would have to question everything he told me and revisit previous things he said in order to gauge if it fits in or not. For such a story, the manner is consistent with the world that Ford has created.

Next topic: other pathologies and self-deceptions

The Good Soldier: Character list and relationships

John Dowell
A Quaker from Philadelphia, John Dowell is the direct narrator of the story. His family came from England with William Penn, settling in Pennsylvania. He controls property in Philadelphia and is able to maintain a wealthy lifestyle. John prides himself on being attentive and nursing.

Florence (Hurlbird) Dowell
Florence is a Protestant who lives with two aunts (who try to discourage John from marrying her) in Stamford, Connecticut. She graduated from Vasser and loves to appear as an authority on culture. She tells John what she is looking for in a husband:

She wanted to marry a gentleman of leisure; she wanted a European establishment. She wanted her husband to have an English accent, an income of fifty thousand dollars a year from real estate and no ambitions to increase that income. And—she faintly hinted--she did not want much physical passion in the affair.

Edward Ashburnham
The “good soldier” of the book title. Captain in the British army (Fourteenth Hussars) who views himself as a genteel landlord, interested in his tenants long-term well-being. Wins many medals and demonstrates acts of bravery in his army career. At first appearance, a model Victorian/Edwardian man.

Leonora (Powys) Ashburnham
An Irish Catholic who has taken to heart her father’s careful management of money. Her father (a Colonel) was friends with Edward’s father (also a Colonel) and arranged for Edward to marry one of his seven girls. Leonora shows a talent for kindness and cruelty, usually simultaneously.

Nancy Rufford
Becomes a ward of Edward and Leonora when her mother abandons her and her father goes to India. She calls the Ashburnhams aunt and uncle and views them as having the perfect marriage. Educated in a convent school, she displays a naïveté of the world that proves dangerous to her and to the Ashburnhams.

Maisie Maidan
An Irish Catholic, having attended the same convent school as Leonora. Around 23, her husband was in the army with Edward. The Ashburnhams bring her from Burma to Nauheim with them for treatment of her weak heart. She is described by John Dowell as gentle and submissive.

Jimmy
A cabin boy that travels with Uncle John and Florence on their round-the-world-trip. Florence has an affair with him that is noticed by others. She continues her affair with him after her marriage until Edward drives him away.

While that isn’t a complete listing, I think it covers the significant players in the book. I’ll look at some of the relationships in the next section.

The Dowells
John agrees to marry Florence in spite of her requirements (listed above). And when John comes to elope with Florence, she keeps him waiting two hours at the foot of the ladder (planning her course of action to carry on her affair with Jimmy). Shortly after leaving the United States on their trip to Europe, she fakes heart problems. Once in Europe, doctors tell John that he “had better refrain from manifestations of affection” to protect her heart. John’s response? “I was ready enough.”

Since doctors recommend that the Dowells remain in Europe (on the continent), Florence is frustrated in her plan to settle in an English estate. The Dowells travel from health spa to health spa while maintaining a place in Paris. It is at Nauheim (a resort near Frankfurt) that they meet the Ashburnhams.

John is mistaken in almost everything about Florence. A couple of examples: He deduces that the aunts didn’t want him to marry her because of her weak heart when in reality they are trying to save him from her wayward behavior. He first states “I believe that for the twelve years her life lasted, after the storm that seemed irretrievably to have weakened her heart--I don't believe that for one minute she was out of my sight, except when she was safely tucked up in bed and I should be downstairs…” when upon reflection he opines “When I come to think of it she was out of my sight most of the time.” One interesting characteristic is to watch John quietly dispute or undercut Florence’s comments.

The Ashburnhams
The Ashburnhams’ marriage is tested early on with the Kilsyte case, in which Edward kisses a crying servant girl. Leonora rallies behind Edward, which is what he needs at the time. A few years later, Edward began a series of affairs where his passions took a physical, mental and sometimes financial toll on him. After the La Dolciquita affair cost him a huge sum, Leonora insists he transfer to India and she takes control of the couple’s finances. By economizing and extracting more money from the management of Branshaw, she improves their lot but at the cost of emasculating Edward.

In Edward’s series of affairs, he carries over his chivalric sense of protection from his estate to the women he believes he loves. Leonora not only forgives him his wayward forays but also helps him acquire new conquests. She is relieved when the objects of affection are well-to-do since she knows there won’t be a scandal—she values the appearance of a perfect marriage more than having one. When they accompany Maisie to Nauheim, Leonora believes things are actually improving with Edward even though they no longer speak in private.

The Ashburnhams to some extent remind me of Tom and Daisy Buchanan from The Great Gatsby: “They smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.” In addition to harming those around them, the Ashburnhams also inflict massive damage to themselves.

The “minuet”
John Dowell initially describes the time with the Ashburnhams as a beautiful minuet in which each participant is in tune with the others’ actions. He corrects himself immediately by saying it was really a prison of screaming hysterics, which highlights his coming to terms with the true history between the couples. The couples’ trip to the castle at M---- is a pivotal point in the novel, described several times from different vantage points or with different knowledge provided each time. Florence takes the lead, happy to show how knowledgeable she is (even as John silently disputes much of what she says), and clearly shows her designs on Edward. Leonora’s happiness over the improvement with Edward has already been dashed by discovering Major Basil’s blackmail, and Florence’s designs (and the look in Edward’s eyes) push her to the edge of despair. John refuses to see what is going on, however, and Leonora generously decides to spare him the details.

As time goes on there is no longer any pretending between Florence and Leonora. It becomes clear that Florence is more interested in the control the affair gives her than the sex. Leonora’s behavior toward Florence in private becomes contemptuous: “"You come to me straight out of his bed to tell me that that is my proper place. I know it, thank you." Once Leonora tells Florence “You want to tell me that you are Edward's mistress. You can be. I have no use for him," the control Florence once had is broken. Florence’s despair in thinking she was being replaced by Nancy is enough to send things crashing down around her. But when she sees Mr. Bagshawe and suspects he has told her husband about the affair with Jimmy, she realizes she has lost control over John as well.

Once Leonora recovers from her breakdown, she takes her cruelty out on Edward and Nancy. In trying to drive Nancy into Edward’s bed, Leonora strips Nancy of her innocence (and eventually her mind). In addition, Edward is stripped of his manhood and ultimately his life while trying to behave properly.

Next topic: the method of narration

The Good Soldier: A chronology

The Good Soldier does not lend itself very well to discussion by chapters or parts, I’ll approach it in a different manner. I will start with a chronology, discuss the main characters, cover themes and motifs, review the 1981 TV movie version, and throw in anything else that makes sense in covering this challenging book.

Since John Dowell, the narrator of The Good Soldier skips around on the story, I thought it might be helpful to have a timeline of events. Please add a note if there are any errors. I hesitate to attempt this since it defeats the purpose of Dowell's narration--assembling a storyline separate from the telling of the story takes away from the effect. But at the risk of detracting from the novel, here’s a pass at the chronology:

CHRONOLOGY

1868: John Dowell born
1870/71: Edward Ashburnham born
1873: Leonora Powys born
August 4, 1874: Florence Hurlbird born
1892: Nancy Rufford born

1892: Edward and Leonora married

1897: La Dolciquita affair; Ashburnham’s move to India

1898: Mrs. Basil affair begins

August 4, 1899: Florence sets out on round-the-world trip with uncle and Jimmy

August 4, 1900: Florence starts affair with Jimmy

August 4, 1901: Florence and John Dowell marry, sail to Europe

1903: Maisie Maidan appears on the scene

July 1904: The Dowells meet the Ashburnhams at Hotel Excelsior in Nauheim
Note: At one point Ford says they met in August, but elsewhere said they had dined together for about a month before the next event happens. One other mention has Florence and Edward’s affair starting in 1903.

August 4, 1904: Trip to castle at M---; Maisie’s death

1904 and 1905: Edward visits the Dowells in Paris several times

1910: Leonora attempts to have an affair with Rodney Bayham but fails

July 30, 1913: John Hurlbird (Florence’s uncle) dies at age 84

August 4, 1913: Florence commits suicide

August 1913: Dowell goes to Waterbury to settle Florence’s uncle’s estate and Philadelphia for business (first visit to U.S. since 1901)

September 1, 1913: the Ashburnhams return to Branshaw

October 6, 1913: Edward Ashburnham gives a horse to Selmes

October 20, 1913: Nancy Rufford reads of the Brands’ divorce

Between Oct 20 and Nov 12: Edward announces he has written to Colonel Rufford that Nancy should go visit him

November 12, 1913: Leonora goes to Nancy’s bedroom to say Edward was in love with her; Nancy announces her intention to go to Glasgow (after receiving letter from her mother); Edward insists Nancy will go to India

November 13, 1913: Edward White telegraphs saying he will take Nancy’s mother to Italy

Nov/Dec 1913: Nancy comes to Edward’s bed, but Edward rebuffs her

Nov/Dec 1913: Dowell goes to Branshaw

December 1913: Edward’s suicide

Dec 1913/Jan 1914: Nancy, in Aden, sees of Edward’s suicide and loses her mind

January 1914: 10 days after Edward’s death Leonora tells of Florence’s suicide and unfaithfulness to Dowell

February 1914: Dowell begins writing the story; finishes most of it by August 1914

End of 1914: Dowell goes to Ceylon to bring Nancy back to Branshaw

Uncertain: Leonora marries Rodney Bayham

End of 1916: Dowell finishes the book


There are several contradictions and errors in Dowell’s story, likely errors by Ford but quite in character with Dowell’s uncertainty in telling the story. Ford’s insistence on pegging so many monumental events to August 4th (Germany invaded Belgium and thus Britain declared war on Germany on August 4, 1914) caused a few things to move out of alignment.

Events from November 1913 onward are a little looser—events happen that don’t always line up or agree with the season. Many events have specific dates, but other events that are supposed to happen in between these dates may throw the alignment out of order. One of the more humorous errors has Dowell finishing the book in 1916 when Ford has it published in 1915.