Reading the Chunksters discussion

And so we start our delve into our Emotional Powerhouse. We start with what has to be one of the most emotional episodes of a young child's life -- the death of his beloved mother. Only nine years old, Philip is an orphan now placed in the care of his childless much older uncle and aunt.

Changes seem to be the center of these chapters. Change in his home. The great change of going off, at the age of ten, to a boarding school and all its attendant changes. And then at thirteen, a move to another school. Where can Philip find an emotional center? Does he have a home in the true sense of home, not just a place to sleep but a refuge and place of comfort and safety? What strategies is he using to adapt to all these rapid and, I'm sure, confusing changes?

Much to discuss in these chapters. Time to start sharing thoughts on them.

One interesting aspect of literature is how many young heroes and heroines of literature are orphans. Philip Carey is in good literary company.

David Copperfield. Jane Eyre. Tom Sawyer. Becky Sharp. The Wards in Jarndyce. Heathcliff. Tom Jones (yes, I know, but...). Pip. Dorothy of the Wizard of Oz. Oliver Twist. Anne Shirley. Harry Potter. The list is almost endless.

What is the attraction of an orphan as the hero or heroine of a novel? Why might Maugham have started this novel with the orphaning of his main character?

Parents are about the "every day"; clean your room, put out the trash, and get down from there! The very opposite of adventures. With no parental oversight comes so many possibilities for experiences that Mom and Dad would certainly have said no to.

Everyman wrote: "One interesting aspect of literature is how many young heroes and heroines of literature are orphans. Philip Carey is in good literary company."

My first thought at starting the first chapter was that we've just finished reading The Quincunx and here we are back with a similar setting, a young boy with no father and just losing his mother. Certainly there is a lot of books about orphans, but as The Quincunx was the previous choice in this group, I found this amusing.

I feel especially sorry for Philip because of his bad foot, it makes him stand out in the boarding school among other boys.

When you lose your parents you lose your home, so from a literary point of view orphans are interesting because the author can put them on a road of self-discovery which they must navigate without help from a parent. There might be a kind relative there to help the orphan, but often they are thrown from a loving home out into hardships from where they must try to find their way to a new home of their own (think David Copperfield, Jane Eyre...)

My heart was breaking for Phillip in these first chapters. To lose both his parents at such a young age and then have to go live in a staunch religious environment. I loved the way he used his uncle's books to escape his reality. The school scenes were heartbreaking too. Kids can be such bullies especially to someone who is different or has any kind of disability. Having to deal with a club foot on top of everything else would just have been horrible. I hope he continues to find his way with the help of books and the few kind people he does have in his life.

I think coming of age dramas, even today (and certainly in every Disney movie), often seem to begin with the parent missing through death, divorce or abandonment. Abandonment is an issue here as Philip clings to the next person who is nice to him. How will it form his character as an adult, I wonder?

The English boys' public school harassment has had an affect on Philip by chapter 13, where he lies about his dead mother having given him a cheap penholder to manipulate another's sympathy. Maugham notes that he passes from the innocence of childhood to bitter self consciousness of himself as different.

The Lancashire Witches by William Harrison Ainsworth, 1849, is a real book about famous English witch trials of 1612. Never been out of print, supposedly.

Having just celebrated my 60th birthday, I am a little astonished at how painful the reading has been so far. I was a tormented child in school. Bullied physically and emotionally. It was unrelenting and it went on all the way through 9th grade. Then in my sophomore year of high school, I started performing on stage and it was such a relief to be someone else for a while.

So many years ago - but this book is making it feel like yesterday. And, unlike Philip, I had loving parents to come home to. So, for him, it's a double blow. Tormented at school and no place to come home to.

My point (I do have one) is that, what this can do to someone's self-esteem cannot be underestimated. It profoundly affects decision-making processes in every facet of life, but particularly ones having to do with relationships. Such individuals can feel as if they aren't worthy of real love. In fact, they may even be suspicious if someone of true quality loves them at all.

I haven't read ahead (in fact, I'm a bit behind), but the book blurbs mention Philip's seemingly incomprehensible fixation on a love interest unworthy of him. Incomprehensible to some, perhaps, but if someone feels as if they are unworthy, they may have a tendency to set their sights rather low when it comes to finding a romantic partner.

Anyway, like I said, I haven't read this book before, but I can certainly understand operating from that kind of emotional center.

Singing, performing, finding relief in the love of my family - this saved me.

But - I wonder - what will be Philip's relief? Will he find it? Will he even think enough of himself to try?

So, in answer to E'man's very thought-provoking question: populating fiction with characters bereft of the love of family and friends creates a setting for intense, complex experiences, thus drawing the reader more fully into the narrative. Either because it's a world of which they know nothing. Or a world they know all too well.

It seems to me that a orphan, especially a very young one, and in this case, one with a physical deformity, is a great way to garner sympathy for the protag very early on. Don't we all feel badly for Phillip within about the first 5 or 10 pages? And of course it just keeps getting worse with the aunt and uncle who are distant and cold, the bullying at school with the awful teachers, etc. It makes me wonder if we, the readers, will be challenged by Phillip in the later stages of the book. Is he going to be awful and challenge our sympathetic feelings about him?

I am also interested in his academic life thus far. He finds solace in books, but seems to have a bit of a hard time with the teachers at the boarding school. However, with the new headmaster appearing on the scene in the last chapter of this week's section, it seems like their might be a roll model emerging; someone that will challenge Phillip intellectually and perhaps act as a mentor and friend.

I've just started reading this today, and I would like to thank Everyman for nominating a book which almost reduced me to tears within the first chapter. The mother cuddling her son scene really hit close to home, and I'm not even on my deathbed.

I don't understand why they're carrying around a 9 year old boy in the beginning. Especially a nurse - in a bustle. It's extremely weird.

I laughed at Linda's comment about tears in the first chapter. I made it through that, but oh my goodness, when he's praying for his club-foot to be healed? I really struggled on that part. That was absolutely heartbreaking.

I think the appeal in an orphan character is that he has nobody else to rely on. There's simply nobody to help. Oh, and Everyman, thank you for mentioning Anne Shirley :) My childhood heroine. But orphans have to get through the story with nothing but their heart and their minds and serious guts. It does also pull at the heartstrings, which Maugham appears to be trying really hard to do between the orphaning and the club-foot, which leads to terrible bullying.

I thought the latter part of the schooling was interesting because he was apparently a very gifted student. The cruel teacher is an appalling character and I wonder if it's coming from Maugham's life? I have some hopes for Philip now that Mr. Perkins is around. He could use somebody who understands him. I like the way Perkins slipped in those comments about what the teacher used to say about him. It gives Philip hope in a way that a pep talk wouldn't.

I really dislike Mr. Carey but I think Mrs. Carey is just bewildered. I couldn't believe what they let Mary Ann get away with, especially after Mr. Carey was so harsh about Emma.

I could easily have read through two or three hundred pages I was so engrossed. I can't wait for the next section.

Paula wrote: "Having just celebrated my 60th birthday, I am a little astonished at how painful the reading has been so far. ..."

Thank you for sharing that.

I think most of can relate to one degree or another with Philip. I think most children have some equivalent of a club foot, some aspect of themselves which is different and makes them feel different, feel not fully right.

Maugham had several such aspects, and his critics and biographers differ as to how much which of them he intended to represent in Philip's club foot. But children can be so cruel that at some point most children, I think, feel much as Philip does, though I hope not often to his degree.

Sarah wrote: "I really dislike Mr. Carey but I think Mrs. Carey is just bewildered."

It's easy to dislike Mr. Carey. I certainly did on my first read through when I was much closer to Philip's age.

But ... now that I'm considerably older, for this reading I have a bit more sympathy for him. He is, we are told, considerably older than his brother, so he is certainly in his 50s and perhaps his 60s. He has made a life without children in it, and to suddenly have a child who he doesn't know thrust upon him to disrupt his settled life and routines must have been quite unsettling. He has had no experience with children. And this is in an age and country where affection by men for children was not the norm. It would be different today, but I think not so then.

So why do you think Rev. Carey was the way he was with Philip? Was it intentional unkindness? Distress at the unexpected major change and disruption in his life? Active dislike of children in general or of Philip in particular (or both)?

If you look at the situation from his point of view, what do you see?

Tomorrow I will answer more fully, but his stingy attitude with both affection and money) bothered me. However, it was the fact that he kept all of the photographs that really angered me. Those were from the mother to the boy and he had no business keeping them.

Everyman wrote: "So why do you think Rev. Carey was the way he was with Philip? Was it intentional unkindness? Distress at the unexpected major change and disruption in his life? Active dislike of children in general or of Philip in particular (or both)? ..."

I don't think he's intentionally hard on Philip. I think he doesn't like his life being disrupted, he's worried that his wife will especially be affected by it because she had no children, and he really really disliked his sister-in-law. Part of it might be a sins of the mother kind of thing, rather than father. I also think he's completely unable to relate to Philip and see that he's a child, not just a small adult.

I think that if I were to look at it from his point of view, I can see where having a child around disrupts his orderly life and is a nuisance, but I also think that if there was any affection between the brothers this would be a difficult attitude to take.

Sarah wrote: "I also think that if there was any affection between the brothers this would be a difficult attitude to take. "

That's a good point. Is there some underlying resentment of his brother for dying and imposing this child as a duty on him? To love and care for one's own child is a privilege and a blessing. To be forced in the middle of life unexpectedly to care for the child of someone you have been estranged from for years is something totally different.

Of course none of it is Philip's fault, or his choice, and I think that adds greatly to the sadness of these chapters. To be an unwanted child...

Yes, and he's not only burdened him with a child, he spent all of his own money and the financial obligations fall to Carey too. That would actually be very frustrating.

I agree that it would be a huge burden to suddenly have a child in your life, when you never had, and I have to assume never desired one. And I'm sure we all know people who don't have kids, don't want to have kids and are then a little awkward around those of us that do. It makes me wonder though if we're maybe not cutting Rev. Carey any/enough slack? I wonder if maybe he does like and care for Phillip and he just has no practice with kids so doesn't know how to talk to or relate to him, and instead of bungling it a bit (like Mrs. Carey does) he just doesn't engage. Certainly there is a cultural and temporal factor here - As Everyman pointed out, at taht time in that place, men wouldn't have been expected to be warm and caring, but possibly a bit more engaging. Just something I'm kind of noodling on. My first impression of Rev. Carey is not good, but I think there are probably some deep and complicated waters there.

As I came to the end of reading for this section, I also picked upon the "change" theme. I'll add one to Everyman's list - change in the school administration and the way the school is run. Luckily for Philip, it seems this particular change is going to be a good one for him - Mr. Perkins looks like he is going to be a possible stable figure who Philip can look to for support.

I don't much care for Mr. Carey, and I'm with Sarah that the fact he only gave Philip one of his mother's photos was horrible of him to do. However, I get the sense that he doesn't really hate Philip (I could be wrong, though), but that he just doesn't know exactly how to act around him, and most likely harbors some resentment that this boy has disrupted his very structured life. Giving Philip the top of his egg might feel like he is doing something grand for Philip, but to Philip it's not a grand gesture at all. He simply wonders where is his own egg? I found the entire egg business both funny and sad.

I felt for Mrs. Carey, obviously wanting her own child but having none. And the scene where she breaks down crying in front of Philip was heartbreaking.

I loved that Philip discovered a love of reading, and that he found all these great novels within Mr. Carey's library which Mr. Carey pretty much had forgotten were even there. I think Philip's love of books will serve as both an escape from real world hurt, and also as a way to discover that there is more to the world than the narrow teachings that his uncle and previous school officials set out to teach him.

I rooted for Mr. Perkins when he was set on finding out what knowledge the students had, such as when he asked the student named Eldridge (the "cleverest" boy) what he knew about General Gordon. Subsequently Mr. Turner realized of Mr. Perkins the horrid fact...that the new head had a mania for general information. He had doubts about the utility of examinations on subjects which had been crammed for the occasion. He wanted common sense.

Besides the opening scene of Philip's mother cuddling him, deep down knowing it will be her very last cuddle with her son and agonizing over what will become of him when she is gone, the scene that was really emotional for me was when Philip was being bullied and yelled at by the teacher, Mr. Gordon, for not being able to answer a question. But of course Philip was completely frightened into the inability to come up with the answer, not that he didn't know the answer. This scene completely angered me to the bone, for an adult to treat a child this way and then to call him names on top of that.

Thinking of these two scenes, and since this book was voted as the Emotional Powerhouse novel, I'm sure there are many more scenes like this to come. It got me wondering what scene will be the top emotional scene from the book for me, or for each reader here.

Sarah wrote: "I laughed at Linda's comment about tears in the first chapter. I made it through that, but oh my goodness, when he's praying for his club-foot to be healed? I really struggled on that part. That was absolutely heartbreaking."

I found this scene to be heartbreaking too, Sarah. Of course we readers knew he would wake up that morning with his foot the same as when he went to bed, but the really heartbreaking part for me was the fact that Philip said he KNEW he had faith, yet the miracle still didn't work. It was like he had failed at having faith, which I imagine must somehow be worse than failing at being able to do some sort of math problem.

Jen wrote: " It makes me wonder though if we're maybe not cutting Rev. Carey any/enough slack? I wonder if maybe he does like and care for Phillip and he just has no practice with kids so doesn't know how to talk to or relate to him, and instead of bungling it a bit (like Mrs. Carey does) he just doesn't engage."

That's a nice point. There wasn't a "Dr. Phil" back then to tell him how to raise a child suddenly thrust on you unexpectedly. [g]

Is he doing the best he knows how to do? Is he following what he thinks is the right way to raise a boy in that day and age, even though it's far from what we think is the right way today?

Or is he really simply more interested in his own comfort than in a dependent child who is his natural nephew?

And we haven't yet considered how the fact that he is a minister of the gospel should play into this. Should he have more love to offer than another person might?

Linda wrote: " This scene completely angered me to the bone, for an adult to treat a child this way and then to call him names on top of that. "

And not only an adult, but a teacher.

I think he's interested in his own comfort. I can see where he's maybe having trouble adapting to having Philip around but, as absurd as the question is, why doesn't his wife get an egg? He seems to be very stingy about things.

And not only an adult, but a teacher.

Yes, this is particularly appalling. I've known someone who yelled at children and turned it into thinking he was awesome because "people" were intimidated by him. He was unable to see that when it's a child he's just a bully. I think this is the case here. He likes to scare his students and then blames them for being nervous. This is terrible too because it could completely alter a child's approach to learning. What once was pleasurable could become something he avoids. A teacher should inspire their students to learn, not intimidate them out of it. I'm so glad that Mr. Perkins is there now.

Linda wrote: "Mr. Perkins looks like he is going to be a possible stable figure who Philip can look to for support. ..."

I do hope so. I really like Perkins.

I loved that Philip discovered a love of reading, and that he found all these great novels within Mr. Carey's library which Mr. Carey pretty much had forgotten were even there.

I completely laughed at the way this was worded though, because it said something about how he would never find the same happiness in real life. Reading wonderful books ruins us for the mundane nature of reality :) It was a little wink of humor that I enjoyed.

Is anybody getting a sense of Philip's relationship with his father? The father only died months before the mother, right? We've seen that he was close to his mother and nurse, and that he struggles with the Carey's but I don't remember seeing anything mentioned about the father.

Sarah wrote: "Is anybody getting a sense of Philip's relationship with his father? The father only died months before the mother, right? We've seen that he was close to his mother and nurse, and that he strugg..."

That's a good point. I haven't seen anything about that so far. Maybe it comes up later, but perhaps not. But it would certainly seem important in looking at how he relates to other male authority figures in his life.

Sarah wrote: "Is anybody getting a sense of Philip's relationship with his father?"

I was also wondering about Philip's father. My initial thoughts were that since he was a surgeon, perhaps he was not at home very much? But he must have been around enough for Philip to have formed an impression of him, and it's a little strange we have not been privy to Philip's thoughts on his father yet.

Sarah wrote: "I completely laughed at the way this was worded though, because it said something about how he would never find the same happiness in real life. Reading wonderful books ruins us for the mundane nature of reality :)"

That's great, Sarah. I think I missed that detail.

Everyman wrote: "And not only an adult, but a teacher."

Oh yes, I meant to point this out in my post. It is that much more appalling the way Mr. Gordon treats Philip because he is a teacher.

Here's the actual quote Linda:

Insensibly he formed the most delightful habit in the world, the habit of reading: he did not know that thus he was providing himself with a refuge from all the distress of life; he did not know either that he was creating for himself an unreal world which would make the real world of every day a source of bitter disappointment.

I'm not sure if this is foreshadowing or if it was a bit of sly humor. I prefer to think it's the latter :)

I love that quote, and it does seem like a sly little nod to all of us avid readers huh?

@Everyman - interesting question about whether, as a minister, he should be better equipped to deal with his orphaned nephew. I'm divided, part of me says, yes, he absolutely should, as someone who has trained to 'minister' to the masses; but then the other part of me says, no, not at all.

Jen wrote: "interesting question about whether, as a minister, he should be better equipped to deal with his orphaned nephew. I'm divided, part of me says, yes, he absolutely should, as someone who has trained to 'minister' to the masses; but then the other part of me says, no, not at all. "

Does it matter whether we consider the primary expectations of a minister in the late 1800s when I think the novel is set (published in 1915, but set I believe much earlier, at the general time of Maugham's youth) and those of a minister today? Or weren't they that different?

Jen: I highlighted that quote too. Who among us avid readers has not used reading as an escape from life?

Everyman: Ministers/priests... 19th - 21st centuries... they are human, just more so. Sometimes, it's just a job, certainly as portrayed in 19th century lit. Get that living, preach just enough to satisfy the congregation. We'd probably have to do more research to evaluate the 19th c. English clergyman. Taken at face value, I have to think that Rev. Carey just isn't equipped emotionally in his 50's (?) to deal with a 9 yr old, and in his 60's, to deal with a 17 yr old.
So, coming of age in the next section?

I liked these first chapters, but I didn't find them emotional or at least not overly so. The most painful moment was of course when Philip lost his mother. I was also very surprised at how little (or not at all) Philip mentions his father, as if his death didn't mean much to him at all. Probably he was a distant figure to him, working and being out of home most of the time.

I dislike Mr Carey for being extremely egocentric, not only towards Philip but in general: the way he treats his wife is abhorrent to me, he believes himself to be so utterly superior as to be the only one who merits going on vacation or eating eggs. Alas, this was true for many families, I think, in that period.

As for bullying in school, it was described in a very realistic and lifelike way. It's good that the teachers were forbidden to beat children by that time, but a teacher who is bullying children and frightening them into stupor is not all that uncommon even in our time, I think. At least I remember my maths teacher (in high school) being to much smaller extent a bully. I wasn't much affected (although it made me dislike the subject, I think) but there were a couple of girls in our class who were so afraid at the time of going to blackboard that they always forgot what they knew and kept getting bad marks. So instead of feeling very emotional in this section I barely thought to myself that the author was a good observer. Same applies to being bullied by kids, it's a fact of life to me that children aren't the little angels we'd like to think they are.

Thank you so much, Paula, for sharing some of your life stories. So traumatic and insightful. The acting struck a chord with me. One of our children was bullied at school and found much relief on drama. Along the way there were incidents that caused her to crawl back into her shell. For a couple of years she ceased from
Treading the boards and, for the moment, could not be happier.

I'm afraid I have only just tipped my toe into the ocean of this book and dearly hope that I can catch up! Dogged by illnesses and events that make us press the pause button! Ah well, I pray , only for a short time.

So happy that you appear to be on the mend, Everyman!

I found the first chapters to be emotionally charged from all angles. I think every character so far has qualities that can garner sympathy. Even the behavior of Mr Carey and the schoolmaster, the bullying kids, there is at least one reason to feel pity for all of them in some aspect; I wouldn't have wanted to live the way they do.

Because of the weight of the darker aspects, this book would be a slog if it weren't for the balance the author gives: sadness, pity, disgust, and then in other places humor and even some snark. Engrossing so far, IMO.

Teanka wrote: "So instead of feeling very emotional in this section I barely thought to myself that the author was a good observer."

I think that's one of Maugham's strong points. He mentioned in interviews that when he trained as a doctor, though I don't think he ever practiced, he learned to see people in some of the most emotional moments of life -- in pain, watching loved ones in pain, dying, watching spouses and children dying, dealing with terrible illnesses and injuries, seeing people, and as a doctor in training generally the poorer people, at such difficult times and watching how they dealt with them. He believed that this made him much more aware of human emotions and frailties. =

Well, SM can wield a poison pen with results as devastating as Jane Austen! His characterization of Mr Carey was a work of genius, I'd love to show it to my uncle but he probably wouldn't recognise himself.

As far as young Master Philip goes he seems a rather cold blooded, selfish little squirt. I think he'll be very interesting as he grows older.

Now I'll go and read other peoples comments.

Everyman wrote: We start with what has to be one of the most emotional episodes of a young child's life -- the death of his beloved mother.

Beloved mother? Beloved by whom? In these chapters I've seen nothing to indicate that Philip had a deep connection to either of his parents. SM time and again depicted the callous indifference which Philip displayed to his mothers death, from his disregard of her being sick, his not enquiring after her when he gets picked up, his thoughts when deciding to go into the room to say goodbye, his thoughts about having a garden and an attic at his aunt and uncles. The first time he shows any grief is at school and that is rather a reflection on how miserable he is feeling so it's hardly a sign of love for his departed parent.

I've been pondering the reasons for this - is Philip a heartless little so and so?, did he just not have any connection to them and so can't miss them? Does he feel pain but have a completely unique way of not expressing or thinking about it? At nine any 'normal' child should surely be devastated by the loss of both of his parents in such a short time but Philip remains totally unaffected, his thoughts and his manner betray no agitation at all. He cries over leaving his nurse, he cries over being unable to learn some book passages, he cries over being forced to display his crippled foot but he doesn't seem to give a damn about his mum and dad.

Quite intriguing.

More thoughts on Mr Carey; I don't think he is a 'bad' man, I think he is simply someone whose tendency to conceit and pomposity has been badly exacerbated by being an 'English gentleman' living in the time he does, by being an elder brother, by having no children, by having a wife who doesn't oppose his tendency to think far too highly of himself, by having religion back up his feeling of superiority and by living in a restricted society where he can feel himself a man of vast importance inside his limited social circle.

We can see that he's not very intelligent or well educated and his restricted life makes this even more noticeable. His home life has become one of restrained tyranny, although it's clear that their female servant knows what's what and doesn't let herself be put upon in any way.

What's more interesting to me is the very slight hints that SM throws out that he is actually aware of his hypocrisy.

I'm expecting some lively butting of heads as Philip grows up; even a boy of reasonable brain would be able to see the obvious failings of a man like this and he won't always be a nine year old child to be put upon and humiliated with impunity. There is clearly a wide streak of selfishness in Philips nature and he's obviously stubborn as well. As he grows up I think their interactions could become unpleasant.

The aunt seems rather nice; weak willed but with a kind heart. The scene where Philip screamed out 'I hate you' and she broke down I also found of interest. His realising that his words could hurt her and that he was sorry for having done so. He seems to have the 'artistic' temperament; self absorbed, but this showed a sign of a more decent nature as well perhaps?

Linda wrote: I don't much care for Mr. Carey, and I'm with Sarah that the fact he only gave Philip one of his mother's photos was horrible of him to do.

I don't think this was meant to be horrible. Unless you saw something that I didn't he's not confiscating the photo's just putting them away somewhere so they'll be safe. Philip was able to pick one out for his room (which I imagine would be put in a frame) but children would easily lose or damage a whole lot of loose photographs left in their care through carelessness. It seems in keeping with his uncles careful nature that he would tuck these extras safely away until he's older.

Sarah wrote: We've seen that he was close to his mother

Have I missed something in listening to these chapters? Everyone seems to think that he was close to his mother but I've picked up the complete opposite. I can easily miss passages here and there and it's much harder to go back when you have to rewind a player so normally I don't bother but it looks like I've missed out on something really important this time. To me SM is portraying Philip as a rather cold hearted, selfish little boy who doesn't relate very well to other people. This is particularly stark because he seemed so uncaring over the deaths of his parents. If he was affected by this then this could change my entire reading of his character. Could you tell me where you picked up his love for his mother so I can go back to listen to the bits I've missed?

Nicola wrote: "I don't think this was meant to be horrible. Unless you saw something that I didn't he's not confiscating the photo's just putting them away somewhere so they'll be safe."

On second thought, you're probably right Nicola. Now I am thinking of all the things I have kept of my kids so that they are in safe-keeping for the long term.

Nicola wrote: "Linda wrote: I don't much care for Mr. Carey, and I'm with Sarah that the fact he only gave Philip one of his mother's photos was horrible of him to do.

I don't think this was meant to be horrible. Unless you saw something that I didn't he's not confiscating the photo's just putting them away somewhere so they'll be safe. Philip was able to pick one out for his room (which I imagine would be put in a frame) but children would easily lose or damage a whole lot of loose photographs left in their care through carelessness. It seems in keeping with his uncles careful nature that he would tuck these extras safely away until he's older. "

I thought the same as Nicola. They would most likely all be identical prints of the same shot, wouldn't they? People didn't have that number of shots taken by a photographer at one time. So the child would only need one copy.

On the other hand, I did think Philip was more attached to his mother than he was able to articulate. And he certainly missed Emma the nurse too. But the Careys I thought were doing their best given their natures and beliefs. It was just sad that their best wasn't right for such an impressionable child.

I enjoyed this section very much. I just read the first two sections back to back, being a little late, and preferred this one over the next!

Nicola wrote: "More thoughts on Mr Carey; I don't think he is a 'bad' man, I think he is simply someone whose tendency to conceit and pomposity has been badly exacerbated by being an 'English gentleman' living in..."

Nice analysis. I think you're on the right track, though I may try to put together a few thoughts which suggest you might have been a bit too lenient!

Did Philip love his mother? Or is he unfeeling, not having any real feeling of loss at her death?

Certainly he's a child used to being alone, which suggests that they didn't have the sort of bond that a mother and son always together would have.

But there are these passages:

She opened the door of a room on the floor below and took the child over to a bed in which a woman was lying. It was his mother. She stretched out her arms, and the child nestled by her side. He did not ask why he had been awakened. The woman kissed his eyes, and with thin, small hands felt the warm body through his white flannel nightgown. She pressed him closer to herself.

"Are you sleepy, darling?" she said.

Her voice was so weak that it seemed to come already from a great distance. The child did not answer, but smiled comfortably. He was very happy in the large, warm bed, with those soft arms about him. He tried to make himself smaller still as he cuddled up against his mother, and he kissed her sleepily. In a moment he closed his eyes and was fast asleep.

It might not be love, but it seems a lot more than indifference.

Then he's taken from the house to Miss Watkins's home and we don't see him for a week. We don't know how he spent that week. And he doesn't really realize that she's dead. When Emma comes in and says "Your mamma's gone away. You won't ever see her any more." Philip did not know what she meant.

He never really has a chance to say goodbye to his mother, or to understand his loss.

It's true, though, that at that time many children of middle and upper classes were raised more by their nurses than their mothers. So his primary bond would have been with his nurse, and we see his being upset when he realizes that she won't be coming with him to the Vicarage. She has been with him since he was one month old, and thinks of him almost as her own son.

But still, in the one interaction we see between him and his mother he certainly finds safety and comfort nestling into his mother's arms.

It's interesting, perhaps, that the only specific information we are given about Philip's life before his mother's death is his memory two years before of staying at the Vicarage and his recollection of an attic and a large garden. He doesn't remember his aunt and uncle, so perhaps SM is suggesting that places are more important to him than people, except Emma.

It's been months since I read this first section, but my impression of Mr. Carey was that he was a typical middle-aged man of the times, blessed with an assumption of entitlement (which always puts him first in all things) and the responsibility that goes with it. I don't think he is an unkind man, but he has reached a point where he is set in his ways, and has never had children in his life before. Taking on Philip was a matter of duty, and I think he took on this duty seriously, and resentfully.

He doesn't know Philip, and he is probably more than a little aggravated and alarmed that Philip is handicapped, or at least burdened, with issues that put him outside the accepted norm. Carey is unresponsive emotionally because that's how he was raised, that was the acceptable approach to life. Philip has really stirred up the complacent expectations of Carey's life.

Someone mentioned that using an orphan as the protagonist was a way of garnering the reader's sympathy, and I think that's true. Without a family background, an orphan is just a child at the mercy of the world, and it is really easy to relate to someone like that... everything Philip does from now on we are going to see it more personally, and identify with him to some degree. Maugham is a true artist at this, because his characters are always deeply human, believable, flawed, and loveable.

Rosemary wrote: "They would most likely all be identical prints of the same shot, wouldn't they? People didn't have that number of shots taken by a photographer at one time. So the child would only need one copy.

I don't think so, remember how tired she got and how the photographer suggested she come back another day to finish and she refused. If they were taking only one photo and then reproducing it 12 times then that wouldn't be the case.

Everyman wrote: "Did Philip love his mother? Or is he unfeeling, not having any real feeling of loss at her death?

Certainly he's a child used to being alone, which suggests that they didn't have the sort of bond ..."

I get a different impression from this first scene, or perhaps I make different inferences from the impression this scene gives me.

It is his mother who requests Philip be brought to her. This indicates love from the mothers side. I can't be certain that this means a close relationship between them as she is obviously dying and it might be possible that due to this she is more affectionate that usual but in absence of other evidence and thinking about the photo's she has made and her worry over what will become of Philip I'll go with the thought that SM wants us to think that she cares very much for her son.

Philip raises no objection to being moved but doesn't seem worried about it either; then again he has just been sound asleep so probably isn't thinking all that clearly. He just accepts, kisses her and then goes back to sleep without ever really waking up. It's a tender scene and should indicate some form of connection between the pair especially as we are obliquely informed that Philip has no other parent and it's clear that his mother is unwell.

Then Philip is sent away for a week to say with his Godmother and he doesn't appear to be anxious. When Emma comes to fetch him it is stressed that he doesn't ask about his mother and that Emma is rather surprised that he doesn't. It's unclear how much he understands but he is nine and he would understand the 'you'll never see her again' and yet he doesn't say a word. He does cry a bit because Emma does and still seems confused.

So, if I go back to that first scene we have an only child who had a relationship with his mother that wasn't totally remote, and this is how he reacts? I don't think WSM would be pointing out all of these things if he wasn't wanting his readers to think a bit about the sort of character his main protagonist has. It might be that he just doesn't understand but there is enough there for me to be pretty sure that SM is providing evidence of another rather more unpleasant side to Philips nature.

Everyman wrote: "It's interesting, perhaps, that the only specific information we are given about Philip's life before his mother's death is his memory two years before of staying at the Vicarage and his recollection of an attic and a large garden. He doesn't remember his aunt and uncle, so perhaps SM is suggesting that places are more important to him than people, except Emma.

I just read it as Philip thinking of fun games to play and it being a new and enjoyable place to live. In other words being utterly uncaring that both his parents are now dead. That to me was the most glaring, in your face, 'I don't give a damn about anybody other than myself'. It was rather shocking actually.

I don't think it is unnatural for a child to remember a place by the games they have played there. The comment about the Careys having a gate that you weren't allowed to swing on made me smile. How often do adults not stop children from enjoying a game they have just invented due to safety precautions or something else just as boring? I don't remember anything in Philip's attitude that made me think he was looking forward to living with the Careys. I agree that he doesn't seem to think much about his parents but I didn't get the cold-hearted "I don't give a damn" vibe that you did, Nicola. Mostly I think he is just a lonely and introverted child who is a bit confused about what is going on.

My issue with the photos was that she went out when she was dying because she specifically wanted him to have those photos. Carey is failing to honor a dying woman's last wish for her son.