Reading the Chunksters discussion

So what was Mildred’s response to Philip’s rejection of her sexual overture? We know the verbal response. Now we find out the rest of her response – the absolute destruction of his home and belongings, sparing only his clothing, presumably by oversight since they were in a cupboard. But otherwise, all his furniture, all his dishes, all his paintings, his tapestry, everything completely destroyed. Philip has no option but to leave the place for cheaper lodgings, which he is able to find across from the hospital.

But this loss is not the worst of his problems. The war (the Boer war, 1899-1902) seemed to be going well and Philip follows Macalister’s advice to invest heavily in a South African mine. But this time Philip is not lucky, and he invests and then loses almost all his remaining money. (The March referred to in Chapter 98 is March 1900; the war goes on for two more years after that.)

Chapters 99 through 107 show Philip at the nadir of his life. He must give up his studies. He even writes to his uncle for help, but is turned down cold not once but twice. Homeless, virtually penniless, he wanders the streets of London in despair and virtually starving. Finally he swallows his pride and goes to the Athelnys where he gets food, a bed, and, perhaps most important, support and encouragement.

But he must now take whatever job he can find, which turns out to be as a shop walker, and we get a lengthy and detailed look at the life of a shop walker (and other retail employees) in an upscale store in late Victorian England. Eventually he gets to vary this monotonous and physically draining job with a bit of sketching, but doesn’t get more money for it. His only hope is for his uncle’s death, when he will get at least some money. But until then, life for him seems to hold nothing but drudgery and misery.

Then, to his surprise, comes a letter from his uncle inviting him to spend his holiday at Blackstable. He swallows his anger at his uncle’s previous refusal to help him and goes, finding his uncle obviously failing. His uncle takes advantage of Philip's medical knowledge, but makes sure not to offer Philip any money, but to complain constantly of the cost of his illness and all the money he must spend on drugs and doctors.

After two weeks Philip returns to his dismal work in London, but he is frankly buoyed by the hope that he will soon receive a telegram telling of his uncle’s death and the freedom it will bring him to follow his dream of qualifying and going to Spain to see the land of El Greco. He even begins to learn Spanish, to the amusement of the Athelnys with whom he still spends time when he can.


Personally, I found these chapters among the least interesting in the book so far. I wondered whether Maugham himself had gone through such a period in his life and was reflecting on it autobiographically. I wondered what the purpose of this section was, why Maugham put Philip through so many chapters of misery. And then, in the last paragraph of this weeks’ reading, comes the answer, or at least part of the answer:

Philip thought of the countless millions to whom life is no more than unending labour, neither beautiful nor ugly, but just to be accepted in the same spirit as one accepts the changes of the seasons. Fury seized him because it all seemed useless. He could not reconcile himself to the belief that life had no meaning and yet everything he saw, all his thoughts, added to the force of his conviction. But though fury seized him it was a joyful fury. Life was not so horrible if it was meaningless, and he faced it with a strange sense of power.

I have gone back and forth on how I feel about Phillip but my heart absolutely broke for him when I read what Mildred had done to his belongings. And things just go from bad to worse for him. I did get frustrated that he seemed to let his pride get in the way of basic survival so I was happy when he FINALLY went to the Athelnys to get back on his feet. I have a feeling things aren't going to work our for him concerning his Uncle's demise. The way things go for Phillip he's either not going to have any money left or he's not going to leave it to him.

That last paragraph that you quoted was so powerful. It uplifted what had been a really depressing weeks reading.

Amanda wrote: I have a feeling things aren't going to work our for him concerning his Uncle's demise. The way things go for Phillip he's either not going to have any money left or he's not going to leave it to him.


I did think that over as well, but his uncle does flat out say that he will so I decided that that was one punch in the gut that Philip was going to avoid.

Everyman wrote: I wondered what the purpose of this section was, why Maugham put Philip through so many chapters of misery.

I didn't find them uninteresting but leaving that to one side what I thought during his trials was 'Philip is truly learning the value of money'.

I can't help but feel that Maugham has experienced homelessness and poverty to some extreme degree...he does such a fine job of portraying Philip's experience, his feelings and his behavior, in a way that might only be available through similar experiences.

I was very interested in the encounter between Philip and his uncle. Philip struggled so hard to maintain his attitude of compassion and not give in to his fear, and the ego that is his demon. I have known men like his uncle, who have spent their lives as misers of money and love, convinced of their entitlement, and afraid for themselves and distrusting of all... and who so sadly end their days in fear of death and looking for any hint of hope, miserable in their loneliness and pain.

It's hard not to race to the end, but at the same time, I am so reluctant to leave this story and Philip.

By the way, Philip's latest epiphany about the meaninglessness of life, and the joyful freedom he felt with that realization, is very similar to the core teachings of most major religions and belief systems, especially Buddhism, but also Hinduism and Christianity. Once we are able to let go of all the meaning we attach to things (the meaninglessness Philip suddenly understood), we are able to experience true liberation -- nirvana, satori, moksha, beatitude.

Janice George (JG) wrote: "By the way, Philip's latest epiphany about the meaninglessness of life, and the joyful freedom he felt with that realization, is very similar to the core teachings of most major religions and belief systems, especially Buddhism, but also Hinduism and Christianity.."

That's a nice observation, but also, at least to me, a bit depressing, in that it implies that in order to reach nirvana or beatitude I'm going to have to let go of all my books and my love for them.

Everyman wrote: "Janice George (JG) wrote: ""By the way, Philip's latest epiphany about the meaninglessness of life, and the joyful freedom he felt with that realization, is very similar to the core teachings of most major religions and belief systems, especially Buddhism, but also Hinduism and Christianity.."

That's a nice observation, but also, at least to me, a bit depressing, in that it implies that in order to reach nirvana or beatitude I'm going to have to let go of all my books and my love for them..."

There was a time when I actually wrestled with the fantasy that if my house caught fire, what would I save first... and I realized that my attachment to my books would actually jeopardize me and the people (and animals) I loved.

That was so shocking to me that I had to come to grips with the whole idea of collecting books. And that is also when I decided to stop worrying about lending books and never getting them back. The truth is, it's all just stuff, you can't take it with you, and there's always more stuff to replace it. That's what it means to let go. You don't have to stop loving reading... or stop loving stories... or their authors. Just think about what you'd want your last thought in life to be.

Someone once told me that the only thing we own -- the only thing of value that we truly possess -- is our attitude.

Janice George (JG) wrote: Just think about what you'd want your last thought in life to be.
"

Bugger!

Not suitable to all viewers, NZ'ers tend to have a fairly robust sense of humour...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cbBx4...

Nicola wrote: "Not suitable to all viewers, NZ'ers tend to have a fairly robust sense of humour...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cbBx4..."

Ha!

What a sad turn of the story. I've been expecting Philip to go broke for such a long time that I actually thought it wouldn't happen. The money he wasted on Mildred would come very useful now... even the 30 pounds for the furniture she destroyed, that was one of the hardest moments for me in the story. Still, I wonder how will Philip react when they meet again.

Also, being homeless and without a penny seems to be a very common motif in English literature of all times. Somehow, I didn't believe also Philip would reach rock bottom. The days he spent outside with no one to turn to were heart wrenching! And I'm so sorry he had to break his studies.

I don't feel very comfortable when I read how Philip awaits the death of his uncle. The uncle may be a miser but that's not a reason to wish him dead. Also, it is his money and he can spend it however he likes. I admit that I was very upset when he flat out refused to help, though.

I didn't actually enjoy this section much. For me it was like one more major downturn in the life of Phillip Carey and I think I've just had enough of the drops on this roller coaster. I agree with the discussion thus far about the really poignant piece being Phillip's conclusion that there is no meaning to life and so to just quit fighting it. It seems to free him up in a way that the rest of the challenges he's faced and overcome have not, and that's very telling.

I was also a bit uncomfortable with the storyline of Phillip waiting for his uncle to die. Although, I suppose that's all that's left between the two of them. There's clearly no love or even warm feelings between the two of them, so all there really would be left would be for the relationship to come to the final ending.

One small sliver of light for me was to the end of the section where Phillip has begun to put his artist training to use and begins designing fashion. It feels like he's come full circle, and is once again finding some joy in art, but also it's helping him to stave off poverty, two themes for Phillip throughout the book.

Jen wrote: "I didn't actually enjoy this section much. For me it was like one more major downturn in the life of Phillip Carey and I think I've just had enough of the drops on this roller coaster. I agree w..."

Yes it was a bit of an uncomfortable moment but then I also thought, 'well, I guess he's too desperate to lie to himself right now'. He can't help his thoughts but it was telling that he wasn't going to help his uncle along.

And the fact that this artistic talent is keeping him from going completely under is also a nice touch. His time in Paris has been very useful to him one way and another.

Janice George (JG) wrote: "There was a time when I actually wrestled with the fantasy that if my house caught fire, what would I save first..."

I've asked myself that same question, Janice. I'm sure quite a few denizens of GR have pondered that scenario and found it a dilemma! My study is to the immediate right of my front door, so I've told myself that if the fire started at the back of the house, I could go run back-and-forth to the front door, throwing books into the front yard (ugh! throwing books!), but if the fire started at the front, I'd be screwed! Hopefully, if it ever does happen, I'll have the sense to stay out of the burning house!

Hayward's death also had a profound impact on Philip, and prompted a philosophical shift in his thinking. I think these epiphanies of Philip's tie into the bondage theme. His realization and acceptance of his disbelief in God freed him from the bondage of organized religion--he no longer had to suffer the restrictions of its ideals and expectations.

Agonizing over the deaths of Hayward and Cronshaw, he asks himself, "What is the use of it? . . . It seemed pure chance. The rain fell alike upon the just and upon the unjust, and for nothing was there a why and a wherefore." He then realizes that "the answer was obvious. Life had no meaning . . . man by living served no end. It was immaterial whether he lived or ceased to live. Life was insignificant and death without consequence. Philip exulted, as he had exulted in his boyhood when the weight of a belief in God was lifted from his shoulders: it seemed to him that the last burden of responsibility was taken from him; and for the first time he was utterly free." This realization, this freedom from the constant striving to meet the expectations of society's demands for "success," imbues him with a sense of power over his own life that has been lacking. He understood that "as the weaver elaborated his pattern for no end but the pleasure of his aesthetic sense, so might a man life his life . . . out of the manifold events of his life, his deeds, his feelings, his thoughts, he might make a design, regular, elaborate, complicated, or beautiful; and though it might be no more than an illusion that he had the power of selection . . . that did not matter: it seemed, and so to him it was." He grasps that there are other standards with which to measure a life beside society's definition of happiness, and that these lives were still "intricate and wonderful" even though they were lives in which "happiness did not enter and in which success was not attempted," and that they possessed "a more troubling grace." Philip gains a whole new perspective on his own life and feels empowered, for "his own life had seemed horrible when it was measured by its happiness, but now he seemed to gather strength as he realised that it might be measured by something else." He's now freed from the overpowering sense of failure for his inability to attain that "perfect" life--marriage, family, financial stability, professional achievements. He can view his life as the quest for something else, a pattern of his own making, to suit his own vision and not that of society.

Jen wrote: " was also a bit uncomfortable with the storyline of Phillip waiting for his uncle to die. "

I think -- I hope -- most readers were uncomfortable along with you and Teanka.

But in a way the Uncle, while not perhaps deserving it, certainly had a chance to get into Philip's good graces with a few measly pounds, but seemed almost pleased that he had hit rock bottom.

Nicola wrote: "And the fact that this artistic talent is keeping him from going completely under is also a nice touch. His time in Paris has been very useful to him one way and another. "

I thought so too, but, on the other hand, if he decided straight away to study medicine and not to spend 2 years in Paris, he would have finished his studies before he ran into financial trouble. (Sorry for that, but I can't help myself; Philip's indecisiveness irritated me a lot at the time!)

Phillips indecision in choice of life's work doesn't bother me so much (although it may have been outrageous to his original readers) because so many students change their "majors" these days. In some cases multiple times. Which I think is probably necessary. It takes a while to sort out what you want and for what you have an aptitude. I think Philip really wanted to be an artist and seems to have put forward genuine effort imto his studies but when told he did not have any real gift, pragmatically gave it up and turned to medicine (for which it seems he has true aptitude)

That being said, he does struggle with making decisions. And also with expressing opinion. I don't know how much is vacillating and how much is fear of how his decision will affect others. Maybe it'such the same thing and a lack of self confidence.

His real extravagance came with Mildred. He spent wretchedly when it came to her. I suspect he would have been able to change careers without economic repercussions if not for his slavish obsession with her.

Teanka wrote: I thought so too, but, on the other hand, if he decided straight away to study medicine and not to spend 2 years in Paris, he would have finished his studies before he ran into financial trouble."

Or if he hadn't stupidly played the stock market - or, lest we forget - supported Mildred all those years. I'm with you - I'm irritated at him for throwing away his future as well.

I actually finished the book so I've been a bit Leary to post much. I will try to filter out the influence of the rest of the book

This section irritated me. Leave me with a cliffhanger and then resolve it and over. Then a series of depressing dark desparate chapters. Total downer.

That said the description of his money troubles (money is definitely a form of human bondage) and ultimate rock bottom were amazingly well done. I could feel his desperation. I could feel his hunger and his fear. How sad that his only family will not help him but a former patient turned friend offered up his overcrowded home.

I found that I simply didn't care about his work in the shop.

Stephanie wrote: "I found that I simply didn't care about his work in the shop. "

I'm sure Philip didn't care for it much either, he felt very wretched there.

This section did drag on a bit, but at the same time, it really shows a lot of development in Philip's character, both for the good and for the bad. I was truly heartbroken for him with what Mildred did to him and his things. I can't imagine being so spiteful! What he is most hurt by isn't the loss of money (which he certainly needs!) but that the items she destroyed were personal to him and most of them were completely irreplaceable. That's despicable to me. Sure, if she's furious, take it out on a chair or something, but his paintings? The tapestry given to him by a dead friend?

I KNEW the loss of money on the stock market was coming! It was entirely too obvious. I hurt for him all the same, though. And I'm glad you explained which war it was, because I couldn't figure that one out from context (my European history before the last century is abominably poor).

I honestly couldn't blame the uncle for refusing the funds. All he's seen Philip do is waste his money all over the place before finally settling down into something that could be profitable for him, and for all the uncle knows, he's spending his money being completely frivolous, and once he gets SOME money from him, what's to say he won't continue being frivolous as he has been? Doesn't mean he shouldn't have recognized that Philip is finally engaged in an activity that he's really good at and should be encouraged in, but I can understand the refusal. And Philip is so proud that he can't admit how bad it REALLY is to his friends.

Some thoughts I've had from the last couple of sections:

"You take your morality because it is combined with religion; you lose the religion and the morality stays behind." I still can't decide quite what I think of this statement.

"Philip had cultivated a certain disdain for idealism. He had always had a passion for life, and the idealism he had come across seemed to him for the most part a cowardly shrinking from it." I found this a bit ironic, since Philip has seemed to be the idealist to me from the beginning. At least, he's seemed to chase after one form of ideal to another throughout all of his adventures. And yet he disdains it?

His musings when Hayward goes off to war are interesting; basically, that Hayward only does it because it's the next interesting thing for him to do, but not because he finds any actual patriotism to it. I could totally relate to his feelings at Hayward's death, though. I heard of a friend last year, someone I was never especially close to, but hung around in the same group with for several years, that had died suddenly in a motorcycle accident. It was very jarring, not because he was a close friend, but just that suddenness, that facing mortality, that idea of "what's in a meaning of a life," especially when it seems so short and cut off so unexpectedly. Again, though, I see Philip judging Hayward's life as meaningless, when, with what Philip has or has not accomplished in his own life, I don't see how he should be the one to determine the value of someone else's life. How does HE know whether Hayward's life meant anything to anyone? He obviously made an impact on Philip, even if for just a season in his life. Philip grew and learned from that friendship, even if only just a lifestyle that he DIDN'T want. How is that meaningless?

I guess I just don't understand how Philip finds joy in life being meaningless. Yes, I understand the freedom of realizing that you can't mess up the grand scheme of things by making mistakes (a Christian point of view), but the idea that it's all pointless, so now he's happy? Why on earth does he continue to live then?

"He [Philip] never expected people to be kind to him, and when they were it surprised and moved him." I don't know whether I think this is a positive statement of someone just not always expecting things out of others but just taking them as they are, freely, or if it's negative, of someone always expecting the worst?

I, too, am very troubled by his feelings toward his uncle. It's one thing to think "Well, if I had his money, it might be a bit easier, but ah, well, that's just not going to happen" and move on with it. But to dwell and brood on it, to set all of your hopes on it, actually wishing for the man's death! *Shiver* The only saving grace I see in that situation is that Philip does NOT choose to use his medial expertise to try to hurry up his uncle's demise, as he probably certainly has the ability to do. It never even appears to cross his mind, despite all his wishing for the end.

I did like the bit about realizing that his uncle is afraid of dying. He recognizes that the man has powerful faith and really is not afraid of what happens afterwards, at least not deep down in his core. But he's a human being and has a realistic fear of the unknown. That's such an honest experience that I can so relate to. I also have a strong faith in heaven and the world that I'm going to after death, and at my core, I'm not afraid, but there are those moments, those times when there is that doubt, that questioning of "what if?" and you just have to accept that you WON'T know 100% until it happens... and that is the definition of faith.

Sorry, that was the most rambling post ever! On to the next section!

Yeah. It was a long post but you made some very interesting points. And this section provided a lot to talk about.

Alana wrote: "Some thoughts I've had from the last couple of sections:

"You take your morality because it is combined with religion; you lose the religion and the morality stays behind." I still can't decide quite what I think of this statement."

It is a very interesting comment. But I think it's largely true for many people raised in mainstream churches I've known; if they drift from the religion, even reject it, they tend to keep the moral principles they were raised with. I have found it less true for people raised in extreme religions; if they reject the religion they tend, in my experience, to reject most things associated with it.

Just my experience, though I have worked for adult study institutions of two religions (one a traditional seminary, one a resident adult study center) so have seen perhaps more people in the process of religious search than many people.

Everyman wrote: "Alana wrote: "Some thoughts I've had from the last couple of sections:

"You take your morality because it is combined with religion; you lose the religion and the morality stays behind." I still c..."

I would agree with you, Everyman. I was raised in an extreme religion, and I've seen many people turn completely away from religion and what would be considered a "moral" lifestyle when they turned their backs on the church. As a teenager, it seemed as though the rebellion was extreme--we had been bound with so many constrictions, all carrying the weight of terrible sin and dire consequences--that we lacked the ability to differentiate between those peculiar to our religion and those that were truly unwise. Once doubt is thrown on these supposedly inflexible beliefs (or worse, the church relaxes their stance on them and previously heinous acts are now perfectly acceptable), all the other teachings are thrown into doubt.

Since Philip's religious beliefs were not extreme, his abandonment was not such a jolt to his way of living. His beliefs did not set him apart from most of society and significantly affect his style of living, so his apostasy was more of a mental shift.

Well stated, Cindy. Makes a lot of sense.

All of these comments are so interesting. It's the wee hours of the morning here so this will be very short.

Well, it wasn't enough for Mildred to call Philip the 'c' word but she proceeds to wreck his belongings. He had already lost most of his money in shares and now this! He is desperate. He walks the streets. He is at an all time low. He is so very hungry.

I know that it has been commented that his uncle was right to refuse him, but I feel that there was no excuse for the uncle's behaviour. What use is it that he reads his bible and book of common prayer daily? He even has the books nicely on display. We are told to feed the hungry. It's a command. There's no sense of "if you feel like it, feed the hungry."

Hilary wrote: "There's no sense of "if you feel like it, feed the hungry." "

There is also no sense of "if you think the hungry have disrespected you, you still aren't excused from feeding them."

Totally, Everyman! I have seen heart-rending poverty in different countries where the moral high ground was taken by some:
You mustn't give them money
because: They'll just spend it on alcohol
or: You'll start a fight
or: They'll all swarm around you ...
Sometimes little kids would cling unto the vehicle risking life and limb, as we drove off.

When we were rookies at all of this and feared upsetting our main chaperone, one gentleman insisted on sneaking money to the children or
anyone, indeed, that he could find. He did it in such a covert way that we only found out accidentally.

Often, the 'don't give because' ethic(?) is a consequence of a deontological stance which really amounts to miserliness. It's great to have a reason not to give; it salves the conscience.

Everyman wrote: "Hilary wrote: "There's no sense of "if you feel like it, feed the hungry." "

There is also no sense of "if you think the hungry have disrespected you, you still aren't excused from feeding them.""

Indeed!