A Dance to the Music of Time: Third Movement

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This volume contains the third group of three novels of Anthony Powell's masterpiece, A Dance to the Music of Time. Readers coming to this series for the first time should start with the first volume. Powell's work is social comedy in the tradition of Jane Austen and George Meredith. Contemporary writers with whom he is often compared include Marcel Proust and Evelyn Waugh. The 12 short novels of A Dance to the Music of Time give a panoramic picture of English upper-class social life from 1921 to 1971 that is both intensely realistic and amazingly funny. Readers either love Powell's work or can't understand what others see in it. My own opinion is that Dance is the best novel written in the twentieth century. Others share this view: A Dance to the Music of Time is #43 on the recently constructed Random House/Modern Library 100 Best Poll (of twentieth century fiction) and was made into a 4-part miniseries on British television just about a year ago.

_A Dance to the Music of Time_ is an extremely absorbing and well-crafted novel (composed of 12 smaller novels). Its subject is the decline of the English upper classes from the First World War to about 1970, a decline seen is inevitable and probably necessary, but somehow also regrettable.

Such a description might make the novel seem stuffy, but it is not. _A Dance to the Music of Time_ is at times very funny indeed, and always interesting. always involving. It features an enormous cast of characters, and Powell has the remarkable ability to make his characters memorable with the briefest of descriptions. In addition, Powell's prose is addictive: very characteristic, idiosyncratic, and elegant.

The long novel follows the life of the narrator, Nicholas Jenkins, from his time at Eton just after World War I to retirement in the English countryside in the late '60s. But Jenkins, though the narrator, is in many ways not the most important character. The comic villain Widmerpool, a creature of pure will, and awkward malevolence, is the other fulcrum around which the novel pivots.

The third volume of the beautiful University of Chicago Press trade paper edition of _A Dance to the Music of Time_ consists of what is often called the "War Trilogy". These three novels ( _The Valley of Bones_, _The Soldier's Art_, and _The Military Philosophers_) cover Nick Jenkins' experiences in the war. As a consequence, many new characters are introduced, though old favorites still show up; and the tone is somewhat different. They are still remarkable, often very moving, and often very funny, novels.

I chose to read the Dance series for a graduate school course over the summer of 2003. This third volume is delicious. It logically ends the most important story lines. The volume also contains perhaps the two best loved books in the series, "The Valley of Bones" and "The Military Philospohers". I have studied military history for over the past 25 years. In my opinion these three volumes provide one of the best insights to the bureaucratic dimension of war. They are an opposite yet complementary view of World War II as compared with a more corporeal work such as Mailer's "The Naked and the Dead". Powell the penultimate characterist becomes an expert narrator in this volume. As usual he continues to dazzle thorugh his use of the English language. Practical yet esoteric words that I added to my vocabulary from this volume include "palimpsest", "aperient" and "anent". Beware, exemplary writing ends with book nine. Volume IV, written in the novelist's dotage, is perhaps the very reason many view this series as dull and plodding. END YOUR PLEASURABLE EXPERIENCE of this series WITH VOLUME III.

The third season into Powell's "A Dance to the Music of Time" series, and I finally feel that I'm understanding what's going on. Powell's series is very British, and early on I missed a lot of action because it was hidden amongst the understatements and other polite forms of communication. I read this group of three much more closely, and I feel that I got much more out of it. "Autumn" (as my three in one volume calls this group of three) is the World War II years for Jenkins and his life comrades, although in the first volume, The Valley of Bones, we don't get to see too many of his schoolmates until the very end. Jenkins, who waited too long to join the British army and slightly too old for the rank and file, is assigned to a Welsh regiment made up mostly of the men of one small town. The lieutenant is an ex-bank clerk with delusions of grandeur, who is frustrated by the abilities of the men assigned to him as well as his own ambition. In some ways, this lieutenant resembles Widmerpool; both men are driven by their desire for acceptance by society. Jenkins, the bobbing buoy in the storm of all this ambition, seems almost goal-less. Even his previous occupation as a writer seems worthless in the light of war, and he flounders, searching for a place to fit in and make something of himself. The Welsh regiment is not it, and at the end of The Valley of Bones, Jenkins finds himself becoming an aide de camp of Widmerpool, who has become the Q&A (roughly, the military police) of a division. At the end of the book, this prospect seems quite despairing to Jenkins, although he is resigned to his fate, which could be worse, he surmises, but not much.

We learn much more about Widmerpool and his ambition in The Soldier's Art. Jenkins, acting as his lackey, gets first hand knowledge of both Widmerpool's strengths (hard-working, detailed, thorough) as well as his weaknesses (vain, petty, unscrupulous). One of the strongest scenes yet in the series is a segment herein where Jenkins attempts to help Stringham, who has recovered from his alcoholism, but only managed to achieve a position as a waiter in the Army. Jenkins wants Widmerpool to find Stringham a better position, but Widmerpool at first will have none of it. Widmerpool feels that a man must achieve his own positions, without any string-pulling from his friends. Of course, this is totally hypocritical--he is quite willing to let people pull strings to help his fortunes, and is willing to manipulate the course of actions if they are beneficial to himself (such as having Jenkins assigned to him). Jenkins goes on R&R, and when he returns, he finds that Stringham's been reassigned to the laundry on Widmerpool's suggestion. Thinking Widmerpool has turned a new leaf, he thanks him, then learns that the laundry is due to be shipped out to a nasty portion of the war. The strength of this series by Powell is that all the action above takes place in amongst three of four other developing storylines, including a rivalry between Widmerpool and a office at the same rank, a chance for Jenkins to get out from under Widmerpool's office, and the ongoing blitz of London. Keeping it all straight is difficult at times. Of the books in the series, this is probably my favorite or next favorite so far.

The "Autumn" trilogy ends with The Military Philosophers. Jenkins and Widmerpool separate, each into different parts of the military governance--Widmerpool into intelligence, Jenkins into foreign liaisons. Now that he's back in the city, Jenkins is reunited with his wife and many of the parts of society that being assigned to a country regiment had denied him. Even though the war goes on, and some of Jenkins' in-laws are killed by German bombing raids, the book is concerned as much with the love affairs of the characters as the affairs of the war. Most prominently, Templar's sister, Pamela Flitton, is introduced herein, and the information regarding her dealings with characters that we have met in the preceding eight volumes provides much of the plot. In fact, at one point, where Jenkins is grilling another character regarding Pamela, the character says, "Why do I need to tell you this? Are you from MI5?" because Jenkins, and the reader, has already tied much of what has happened together through the grapevine of other friends and relatives.

I don't think of "The Dance" as a gossip novel, but in many ways, that is how it seems. Action often takes a back seat to the machinations of talk, and the most interesting bits are the surprises that spring from how characters do not relate to one another as seen through Jenkins' eyes. Things do happen--bombs burst, sugar gets poured over heads, intercourse happens--but they become stronger by how they are perceived by the characters than their actual effect. I'm looking forward to the next few books, anticipating Widmerpool's fall from grace and some truth and reconciliation that ties up a lot of what has gone before.

Powell's prose is elegantly uncorroded by the modern fast paced advertising style, as suggested by his fondness for commas and involved yet utterly precise sentences. He obliquely approaches a bleak war as it was experienced on the home front, and in the rear areas frequented by his narrator, Nick Jenkins, a remarkably incisive yet detached and circumspect character of whom we learn very little of the quotidian despite his ever presence. Powell is a master of underplayed scenes. WW II takes some familiar characters in casually shocking ways, invariably reported second-hand. It may be offputting that locations and outside events are frequently allusive, depending as they do on the state of the reader's prior knowledge for their significance, dating, and rationale. (This technique is not specifically intended to reproduce "the fog of war"-which it quite effectively does-but is generic to Powell's style.) Then again, this chronicle of the decline of a group of classmates, girlfriends, and relatives from rather upper-class Britain is not intended for Americans. It is an intensely observed and analysed view of people doing their none too good best at trivial jobs. The second novel here (each about 250 pages long and separately paginated), The Soldier's Art, features Widmerpool especially, one of the most socially awkward self-important incompetents ever to blunder through fine literature yet inexorably advancing, earlier in trade and now into ministerial levels. By this the third book in the handsome Chicago edition, I am beginning to appreciate the low-key but thorough humour of this masterpiece, although French is needed for several outright jokes here. The individual novels progress from one set of character studies to another, set pieces in social situations (often society parties, especially in the earlier novels), with three to five of these revealing episodes per novel. In sum, splendid writing, but not everyone's cup of tea.

This trilogy takes up the war years, and Nick Jenkins' experiences in the Army. The Army is portrayed not as a fighting machine, but as a giant bureaucracy. Of course, this is the experience that many of the millions of men who served in the Armed Forces for Britain and the US had. The frustrations Jenkins experiences are similar to those described in Evelyn Waugh's Sword of Honor trilogy. The emphasis on the bureaucratic aspects of war makes the success of Widmerpool -- in many ways the least military of men, and one who would be completely incompetent as a leader on a battlefield -- completely believable. Powell proves as adept as ever as a creater of characters. I would rate these three novels as quite good, but not as memorable as the earlier two trilogies. Even for Powell, the novels seem rather weak on plot, and to be more a series of character sketches. However, this weakness is overbalanced by the dry humor and the author's ability to create believable characters who are funny, and engaging. While obviously not the place to start, this trilogy is essential for anyone who has read Powell.

This summer I started reading Powell's series in consecutive volumes --just finished "Books Do Furnish A room" which follows "The Military Philosphers" --It's fine, completely up to the quality of the preceding volumes but now treating the post-WW II period, our characters and some new ones, in a more hum-drum time. I don't know about the quality of the followng books but so far Powell is not in his dotage by any means .

By the way, I took each individual book out of the library-- didn't use any of the compound or collected books.
easier to handle, and on the eyes ---

Anthony Powell's masterpiece "A Dance to the Music of Time" is essential reading for any lover of literature.

The so-called Third Movement of British author Anthony Powell's master twentieth-century opus, "A Dance to the Music of Time," comprises the three novels in which it was initially published:" The Valley of Bones," "The Soldier's Art," and "The Military Philosophers." It covers the military career of our narrator, Nick Jenkins, during the Second World War, opening during the period when hostilities had not yet completely begun, the period known as the "phony war," which Jenkins' friend and brother-in-law Chips Lovett, who will not survive, describes as a "tailors' war." Jenkins, whose father was a career military officer, has mused that his family has served in the military for centuries, always without distinction. He begins the war as a line officer, without distinction; he will finish it in a London staff position. The book is probably more easily read by those with a bit of military knowledge, particularly of pay grades and awards, but it will gift any reader with its undeniable lived experience of that great worldwide conflagration.

"The Valley of Bones" opens with Jenkins, who has managed to get into the army, as a mediocre, older than usual, regimental line officer, during the phony war. It mentions the British evacuation at Dunkirk and the fall of Norway, and closes with the Germans about to take Paris. It introduces us to characters we'll see more of later, Odo Stevens, David Pennistone, and Bithel: Widmerpool's not around. Pennistone's a literary type - he and Jenkins discuss the views of war of French philosopher Descartes and poet-soldier Alfred de Vigny, and the doings of English poet Lord Byron, and his friend Caroline Lamb. It's pretty strictly about army life: it's quite funny in spots, but some readers may find it dry.

"The Soldier's Art" opens as Jenkins has been called to a staff position, serving under his old nemesis from school days, Kenneth Widmerpool,while that former schoolmate continues his irresistible rise to money and power, fueled, Jenkins is now in a position to see, by his prodigious ability to work. The story also centers on the character arcs of two more former schoolmates, Charles Stringham and Peter Templer, Jenkins's closest friends from that time. We are kept in suspense as to their fates, but we come to see that Widmerpool does not mean them well. Stringham remarks early on that "it's awfully chic to be killed," and several relatives of Jenkins's wife will die: brothers at the front, others in the London bombing blitz. Jenkins will lose several more old friends and acquaintances. The book gives the impression of having been written in a white heat.

"The Military Philosophers" opens with Jenkins at London's Whitehall, in his final posting of the war, a staff position providing liaison to England's allies. We see the fates Widmerpool has arranged for Stringham and Templer, as we meet Stringham's niece Pamela Flitton. She's introduced while working as a military driver; a beautiful girl, but considered difficult from childhood. She fascinates many men, Widmerpool among them. Surprisingly, to me, at least, the author mentions the findings at Katyn, where evidence emerges of a massacre of Polish military officers by the Soviet, thus predicting the shape of the postwar world. This volume ends with the war; it certainly has its funny bits, but is sometimes written in a more difficult style.

The vast majority of people who read this volume can have had no first hand experience of England at war at this time, nor will any future readers. It's an invaluable telling of the way it was, well worth reading despite its sometimes somber tone.

One feels somehow quite melancholy in turning the last page to Powell's Third Movement. There are several reasons for this emotion, not the least of which is the gradual manifestation of a reflection Nick makes about halfway through The Soldier's Art, the second book in the movement:

"That is one of the conceptions most difficult for stupid people to grasp. They always suppose some ponderable alteration will make the human condition more bearable. The only hope of survival is the realisation that no such thing could possibly happen."

Then, too, there is Stringham's demise: From the first of these movements my favourite character, his witty, dashing, insightful bravura, even when reduced to the lowliest of ranks, always added poetic sparkle to the pages. When last seen taking his leave of Nick with a book of Browning's poems in his hand, I felt this tremendous deflation in that I'd seen the last of the most prodigally heroic of Powell's characters (a suspicion borne out later in the text, unless reports of his death turn out to be greatly exaggerated in the fourth movement.). Perhaps his niece, introduced in these pages, will turn out to be his avenging, well, not angel, but more than capable of doing damage to the loathsome Widmerpool all the same.

If there were any doubters of Proust's influence on Powell, the third book here, The Military Philosophers, should put their doubts to rest. Proust is quoted at length, reflected upon, and, in his capacity as foreign Attaché, Nick manages to convince a high-ranking official that he should be included in the French curriculum.

This is turning out to be a lovely work of literature indeed, though I find myself in sad agreement with another reviewer here that it's probably, like Proust, "not everyone's cup of tea." As Nick reflects in The Valley of Bones, the first book herein:

"I was impressed for the ten thousandth time by the fact that literature illuminates life only for those to whom books are a necessity. Books are inconvertible assets, to be passed on only to those who possess them already."----Powell's opus is that sort of book.

A curious Widmerpoolian point: What Jenkins calls General Liddament's whimsical recourse to "Old English" at times, such as in his dispatch to Widmerpool, "The General bade me discourse fair words to you, sir, anent traffic circles." is not Old English at all. It's Elizabethan or Shakespearean English. Old English, or Anglo-Saxon, is the language Beowulf was written in. It's so completely different from anything approaching modern English that it has to be translated by specialists to make any sense at all to the modern reader. It would have been just as alien to the Elizabethan ear, come to that. ----This sort of slip just won't do when there's a war on. ---I wonder Widmerpool didn't catch him out on it.