I have not
read a lot of books about World War II, either fiction of non-fiction, and
didn’t know what to expect heading into the three-part section of Anthony
Powell’s A Dance to the Music of Time that dealt with the war years. The novels up to book VII, which begins
Britain’s involvement in the war, while ranging near and far in Nick’s travels
into manhood, were mostly in the style of novels of manners, so I was
interested to see if we were thrown into the thick of battle or if the style
persisted.
Given that
Nick and his friends were deep in their thirties when the war began, they were
not placed anywhere on the front lines.
In fact, Nick worried about how he could enlist quickly given the
handicap of his age. Nick did manage to
enlist, and after working in different posts in England through books VII and
VIII came into the lasting position of his military career in Book IX, that of
managing the attaches from first Poland and then Norway and Belgium. These final positions had him stationed in
London.
As a result
of these matters, Powell is able to maintain his tone and style even as the war
rages on in the form of blitzes and the reports of those who have fallen. Not only does it suit Powell’s style, but it’s
also a fascinating way to recount the war.
Of these last three books, the second one, The Soldier’s Art, was
to me the most enjoyable because we spent the most time with characters we had
been following before the war broke out. But
this latest book, book IX, The Military Philosophers, was the most
interesting from an historical perspective.
So little time can be devoted to the war in our history classes that we
really only get the highlights of the big moments in the war. I had never even given thought to the
political relationship between the greater powers and those of the smaller
countries on the side of the Allies. Powell’s
focus is always on the movement of time and people, so he does not spend a lot
of time uncovering the lives and political nuances of the situation, and while
his coverage is sufficient to let us know the general ins and outs of Nick’s
life, I found the quick skim over the surface of things made it difficult to
really submerge myself in the fiction.
Because we weren’t diving down, I found myself becoming impatient and
wanting to rush through the chapters to find an encounter in which we could
spend some time.
It can be
tempting to rush through what seems like humdrum material in Powell’s books,
and I needed constantly to remind myself to slow down for two reasons. First, the prose is so beautifully
constructed that it would be a waste to blow past the sentences in search of a
chapter. Second, Powell is writing
something that is much larger than any one book, attempting to capture the very
motions and patterns of life as we live it, which means things that are humdrum
today can prove to be critical tomorrow.
Powell is not interested in wasting anyone’s time, least of all his own,
and I have to believe that what is laid out for us here is important not only
at the moment but also down the line.
Powell shows
his power as an author most readily in his concluding chapters. The final chapter of The Military
Philosophers is not only the final chapter of this one book, but the final
chapter of this trilogy on World War II.
The war’s ending is celebrated and the lives that were once pulled together begin
once again to separate, and Powell takes his time beautifully gathering each
thread and placing them together, revisiting once forgotten moments as Nick
sorts his thoughts out about the last five years of his life. It was a fantastic ending to three enjoyable,
though at times tedious, books.
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