Anthony Powell, A Dance…vol. 3

Anthony Powell, A Dance to the Music of Time. Collected edition vol. 3

Vol. 7: The Valley of Bones (1964) The title arises from a reading in church from Ezekiel (the famous song ‘Dry Bones’ derives from the same Old Testament source). WWII has started and Nick is a lowly officer at a training unit. There’s a whole lot of new characters: fellow officers are variously pompous, officious or ineffective, or a combination of these. The other ranks are slightly less eccentric, but still full of quirks.

David Pennistone is one of the most interesting of the recurring characters; Nick had met him years earlier at the famous society party thrown by Mrs Andriadis (other characters from this event will pop up later). He’s an intellectual, reading Vigny on the military life when Nick encounters him on a train, and thinking of writing a piece on Descartes. He’ll feature fairly prominently in the next few volumes.

Nick learns more about his former lover Jean and her wayward attitude to the men in her life. More complications arise with his wife’s extended family and other former friends and acquaintances. The dance involving partners changing and dropping out continues, with several surprising developments.

Nick by this time early in the war had written, he says, ‘three or four’ novels (the imprecision is telling). But now, as war becomes ever more overwhelming, he feels too ‘inhibited’ to write. There’s an unsurprising darkness, as well as the usual dazzling satire, in this wartime trilogy.

Humour is wickedly threaded into the more serious aspects of the narrative – and the depiction of characters. One of Nick’s fellow officers remarks that he’s glad he’s married: it means he ‘[doesn’t] have to bother any more about women.’

8. The Soldier’s Art (1966) Widmerpool, as patronising, sinister and creepy as ever, is now Nick’s officious but ineffective superior at their unit in N. Ireland. He’s embroiled in childish, jealous rivalries with his peers, desperate to seem more efficient than everyone else, but succeeding only in appearing ludicrous. He’s a superb creation, probably the most interesting and complex character in the sequence: a comic monster, summed up in this withering comment from Nick –

There was something impressive in his total lack of interest in the fate of all persons except himself. Perhaps it was not the lack of interest in itself – but the fact that he was at no pains to conceal this within some more or less hypocritical integument.

The ‘dance’ of characters brings more of Nick’s former acquaintance into play, still relentlessly changing partners with each other. Former school friend Stringham pops up as a lowly mess waiter, revealing the class system operating as pervasively as it does in the outside world.

There’s a fair amount of rueful reflection on the vagaries of military life in time of war. There are also some shocking revelations; some characters die in the Blitz.

9. The Military Philosophers (1968) Time has moved on; this volume covers a period roughly 1942-45. First a captain, then a major, Nick is at a war office post, working at first in liaison with Polish allies, then with others. The massacre of Polish officers at Katyn forest casts a dark shadow over this final novel in the wartime sequence.

Widmerpool is again his superior officer, as arrogant and selfish as ever. There are more reappearances of usual suspects, but the most striking new arrival is Pamela Flitton (played by Miranda Richardson in the 90s TV version, depicted on the front cover of this volume).

She’s a glamorous ATS driver for Nick’s unit. She emerges as an egregious flirt with a destructive surliness in her treatment of her various conquests. Nick learns that she’s Stringham’s niece (by various complex marital connections).

There are more fatalities among Nick’s circle as the Nazis, losing the war after D-Day, deploy their final lethal onslaught on London: V1 and then V2 rockets. Pamela is revealed to have been involved in a sinister, clandestine plot in Cairo that included others of Nick’s acquaintance.

The tone becomes increasingly Proustian – not just in terms of the meandering prose style, but also in the settings (Nick finds himself on a mission to a northern French resort that turns out to be Proust’s Balbec), and there’s a long quotation from this parallel roman fleuve.

In his military role, Nick learns more painful lessons: after witnessing bad behaviour by a senior commander, he recalls another of philosopher Pennistone’s more cynical insights: that such officers need mollycoddling; they’re like ‘ballerinas’ in another world – Borneo, for example. The fawning obsequiousness Nick had formerly deprecated in some junior soldiers in their dealings with top brass he now realises is essential for survival in this army.

Between the Potsdam conference and the first atom bomb, Nick hears that Pamela has become engaged to the last person he’d have expected. At a social event she displays her usual venomous contempt for her new beau: this does not bode well for the embarrassed fiancé.

After attending the victory service at St Paul’s, Nick meets another key figure from his past. This is going to complicate his life in fascinating ways. I’m looking forward to the final three volumes in this brilliantly realised sequence. How will he fare in post-war civilian life? How will he manage to step his way through the next stage of the dance?