Recently Completed: Farnham's Freehold

[littlerdog.livejournal.com]

Some time ago, there was a discussion on Facebook regarding whether or not Farnham's Freehold is racist, a discussion in which I took no part because I hadn't read the book. The title was however familiar; I was sure it had come up in a different context earlier in the year, although I hadn't heard of it before then. When I saw the book on the secondhand sff stall I've recently discovered, I thought, what the heck. For less than £1, this woolly bleeding-heart white liberal could get a copy of the book and see what she thought.

What I thought almost immediately was, wow, this is badly written. It was hard to believe this was by the author of The Door Into Summer--and almost impossible to believe this book was written some years after Summer. It's bad. It's really bad.

And Farnham, the central white character whom you're obviously meant to like and even admire, is a shit. Worse than him is Barbara, the worshipper at his feet who falls into his arms (in the middle of a nuclear war, no less) despite seeing his blatant contempt for his wife. Almost worse than either is the equally-adoring cipher of a daughter, and the dissenting son, who is presented as weak, racist, and unreasonably opposed to his god-like sire.

Farnham stands for the belief that nobody can make you do or be something and therefore you're not responsible for anyone's actions but your own. Yet, after the attack, he forces his son at gunpoint and under threat of being sent out into the fallout, to submit to obeying his orders without question. So how exactly does that square with his professed creed? Clearly he does believe he can make someone do something; he establishes without a shadow of a doubt that, in fact, he can make his son do exactly as he likes. Who then is responsible for the son's actions in obedience to his orders? Farnham? The son? Both? It's also pretty evident throughout the book that Farnham doesn't care about his son. He humiliates him, ignores him, and, finally, abandons him. True, he protests when his son is castrated (or 'tempered' as the book has it) but the impression given is that he sees this act as a threat to his authority, not as an atrocity against his child. But that's okay--he and Barbara will have children and bring them up more appropriately. This son is disposable.

Farnham's daughter gets slightly better treatment--she doesn't have to be forced into obedience, for one thing, but even after she dies in childbirth, her child dying soon after, Farnham wouldn't change a thing. Why? Because he has Barbara, his perfect acolyte.

During the nuclear attack, which Farnham has of course foreseen and provided for, the family home is shifted to what they first think must be another planet, with no sign of human habitation. After a while, they realise they're still in the same place, and, when the other humans finally appear, it becomes apparent that they've travelled forward in time. Now there's a huge park where their town once stood, and their country is ruled by black people. Whites have the status of slaves.

Farnham now undergoes a complete character change. From the arrogant, domineering, my way or the highway guy, he becomes a meek and efficient slave. In seconds. *blink*

Is the book racist? Not, I think, in intention. But intention, I am told, is not magical. When the Farnham's black houseboy, Joe, is elevated to the ruling class, he accepts his good luck but doesn't abuse it. He's still willing to interact with Farnham, and even help him to an extent. In some respects, the white slaves are treated no differently from black slaves on white American plantations. The black overlords are confident they are benevolent and protective masters. They're human, not presented as particularly evil. I cringed more for the book's treatment of Grace Farnham, Farnham's despised wife, who goes from being feeble for no readily apparent reason (beyond justifying Farnham turning to Barbara) to revelling in being a favourite of Ponse, now the family's owner. Throughout the book, she is depicted with contempt. Joe gets better treatment, imo.

Ultimately, though, a white woolly liberal isn't the best judge of racism. There may well be problematic aspects of the book that didn't leap out and slap me in the face. Wish I could find that discussion on FB again.

Recent Acquisitions #58

[littlerdog.livejournal.com]

While we were getting soaked to the skin in Lincoln and conspicuously failing to see two Lancasters, or even one Lancaster, let alone any Red Arrows, I bought a book from a secondhand/antiques sort of place.

Well, OF COURSE you did, I hear you muttering. What ELSE would you do?

The book is Afro-American Folk Tales, selected and edited by Roger D. Abrahams. The shop actually had two copies--on different shelves--and the first one I picked up was £4.50. The one I came home with was £4.00, possibly because it has a protective cover stuck to it, over even its original price sticker. £7.95. On the sticker it also says Random House UK and something that looks like Wet UK or maybe Het UK or Met UK? Mysterious. It's also possible the price difference is down to the large library stamps on the inside covers: NORTH AREA AFRO/ASIAN RESOURCE LIBRARY. Mysterious, again. One of the stamps is clearly under the protective cover, which must therefore have been applied after the book was stamped.

It's also a bit odd that although this is a 1985 edition, there's an ISBN sticker (again, under the protective cover) with a 13-digit ISBN. These 13-digit numbers weren't introduced until 2007.

Obviously, this is a book with a bit of a history, but I don't see much hope for finding out what it is.

Nothing unusual inside the book so far as I can see, although recently in secondhand books I've found a Cambridge bus ticket and a note that defies interpretation. See photo.



Apparently Xatral is a drug used to treat swollen prostates (SR stands for Slow Release) so this note was probably written on a pad given out free to a doctor or medical establishment by a pharmaceutical rep. But the note itself--V eight side for Sunday--is enigmatic.

It's good that books come with histories. Sometimes though it would be nice to know what those histories are.

While in Lincoln, I also acquired another book, although its sojourn with me will be temporary. It's a Book Crossing book, a travelling book, the first one I've ever found. It was sitting on a low stone pillar outside Lincoln cathedral, in a plastic bag. I found out on the Book Crossing site that it had been there since the previous day--presumably I was the only person bold enough to pick it up.

It's With No One as Witness by Elizabeth George, an author I've never read before. I shall read it then turn it loose once again. This may of course take some time....

Also, my dad came home from his book club with some books that had been donated to the library but which weren't, apparently, wanted.

Four Days in June by Iain Gale;
Great Battles: Decisive Conflicts that have Shaped History, edited by Christer Jorgensen
and
The Year After by Martin Davies.

All's grist to t'mill.