Skip to main content

The Browning Version


The Browning Version: Rising above delusions
Taplow and Andrew in the movie

The Browning Version is arguably the best play written by Terrence Rattigan. It forces us to take a deep look at how we delude ourselves with certain comforting falsehoods. Life is a protracted pain with enough intervals of joys and delights. We add more joys in the form of illusions and delusions in order to alleviate the pain.

Andrew Crocker-Harris is a middle-aged teacher in a residential school. His wife, Millie, who is not at all happy with the rigid school-masterly ways of her husband seeks her pleasures from other male teachers of the school. Frank is one such young teacher.

The play takes place on Andrew’s last day at school. He has to leave the job because of a medical problem. He was never liked by his students, colleagues or the administration and hence no one is going to miss him. A student named Taplow comes to Andrew’s residence that evening as he has been punished with extra work for missing one of Andrew’s classes. Frank also reaches Andrew’s residence to bid goodbye as well as arrange his next meeting with Millie in the new place.

Taplow is the typical naughty schoolboy with mixed feelings towards his teacher. He thinks that Mr Crocker-Harris is worse than a sadist because he has no feelings at all. Yet he feels some pity for his teacher in the last moment and brings him a gift: a second-hand edition of Browning’s translation of the Greek tragedy, Agamemnon. He has autographed it with a quote from the play itself: “God from afar looks graciously upon a gentle master.”

Andrew is comforted by Taplow’s gesture especially because he has no reason to think that anyone in the school likes him at all. The truth is that Taplow didn’t like the master either. His gift is not so much an innocent gesture of appreciation as an oblique poke at Andrew’s lack of self-awareness. Andrew doesn’t know that the boy was mimicking him and having a hearty laugh with Frank at his expense just a few moments ago.

Andrew tells Frank that he values Taplow’s gesture. “I would rather have had this present, I think, than almost anything I can think of,” he says. He is obviously moved by the first instance of some affection being extended to him. Frank knows that Taplow has not been motivated by genuine affection. But he does not disillusion Andrew. He knows that some illusions and delusions are necessary to keep life going.

Millie is not so kind, however. She laughs at Andrew for letting himself be deluded by a boy’s silly prank. “Why should he be allowed his comforting little illusions?” She asks Frank when he pleads with her not to reveal the truth about Taplow to Andrew.

Andrew is shattered by what his wife reveals. She tells him brutally that the gift was just “a few bobs’ worth of appeasement” from an “artful little beast.” She rubs it in ruthlessly by giving the graphic details of Taplow’s comic imitation of his teacher.

Millie has had her revenge on her husband whom she could never bring herself to like. But in the process she loses him and she loses Frank. Frank is revolted by her insensitivity. Andrew comes to the realisation that his delusions are no more genuine comforts than is his self-righteous dutifulness. He need not go on with a wife merely for the sake of upholding certain conventions. He doesn’t have to go on being “woefully ignorant of the facts of life”. He has the choice to confront life squarely in the face. Now he acquires the courage to exercise that choice.

Delusions are like drugs that soothe you superficially. Andrew was aware of his wife’s infidelity right from the beginning. He knew that she had many men in her life. In their bed, more correctly. No self-respecting man could ever have genuine affection for an egotistic woman like Millie. Andrew continued to tolerate Millie merely out of a sense of duty, a duty not to add “another grave wrong” to her by abandoning her. Marrying her was the first grave wrong.

Andrew is wrong, however. He was fooling himself with his delusions because he lacked the courage to confront the truths.

“All are lunatics, but he who can analyse his delusion is called a philosopher,” said Ambrose Bierce. We are all lunatics to some degree or the other. The more delusions we add to our consciousness, the more lunatic we remain. We need to gather enough courage to confront our comforting delusions if we wish to live a genuine life. Being ourselves is not easy, but there is nothing more gratifying than living what you genuinely are.

PS. PS. This is the 2nd part of the #BlogchatterA2Z challenge.
The 1st was: Arms and the Man
Tomorrow: The Castle



Comments

  1. I am unfamiliar with this play but it seems a good one.
    www.noorananchawla.com

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Not many are familiar with it because Rattigan is usually not found in university prescriptions or libraries.

      Delete
  2. At the outset I haven't read the play. But very interesting. Personally I'd rather be real even if it hurts. But in my opinion we are all almost always living with some sort of delusion at least. What do you think. I will come back to read your response.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, most people delude themselves one way or another, knowingly or unknowingly. Psychological comforts, that's what delusions are. If you discard them life can ne tough but more satisfying.

      Delete
    2. Yes and we must prioritise what would work for us. Thanks.

      Delete
  3. I liked the way you've written this post... very interesting... we are all lunatics trying to play a part in bigger life, really thought provoking-delusions, illusions and being genuine in this world.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Glad you liked it. This is a play I have reread a number of times because there is an extract from it in one of the texts I'm teaching. I find all the four characters very interesting; each one is a specimen.

      Delete
  4. "We need to gather enough courage to confront our comforting delusions if we wish to live a genuine life"....so perfectly put. I see that there is much we can learn from this play.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, the play peeps into the complexities of human nature.

      Delete
  5. Enjoyed reading this post and the thoughts it throws up!

    ReplyDelete
  6. I havent read this play, infact I havent read many plays. And so agree that delusions work superficially. Yet we humans seek it

    ReplyDelete
  7. It is indeed a fact that we allow our souls to be chained by conventional mores. The society teaches us that certain boundaries should not bbe crossed thereby preventing us from being true to ourselves.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. There's also another side, Jai. The society can't afford to let some people be themselves. The sadists, for example. There are born criminals too. And the majority aren't even interested in personal liberty!

      Delete
  8. Self-righteous dutifulness is a kind of delusion, it seems.

    A thought provoking one. I can relate myself in some respects.Thanks for this nice read.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Self-righteousness is a sort of mask. Dutifulness can be good or bad depending on what motivates it: imagine the dutifulness of a present-day bhakt! Andrew was actually concealing his weakness of character vis-a-vis Millie by ignoring her infidelity.

      Delete
  9. I haven't read this play. Thanks for the recommendation!

    ReplyDelete
  10. Havent read this play but loved the way you have shared it. It has some profound life lessons and gives some food for thought!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. There's a movie too. I haven't watched the movie but.

      Delete
  11. I love the last few lines.....very true... Being ourself is not easy... Probably the most difficult thing to do... And that's why we love to delude ourselves to the extent that we are in a state of dissonance.... We like to believe we are ourselves but we are not... And only if we dare to be ever coming out of all the delusions would we ever know... How gratifying it is!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It's tough to be our real selves. Can we live without some pretension, some hypocrisy? Anyway the world accepts our neuroses because they are also neurotics. And thus it goes on!

      Delete
  12. They say that cats drink the milk by closing the eyes thinking that the cat will not be seen. But world does witness.
    Millie was one such cat and Andrew was silent spectator, who should have raised his voice and separated from her earlier. But if this would have happened, the drama/ play would not have been interesting!!
    Imperfections make the great stories, so did this play/ drama.
    https://canvaswithrainbow.com/christening/

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, if all people give up their delusions there would be no literature! :)

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Adventures of Toto as a comic strip

  'The Adventures of Toto' is an amusing story by Ruskin Bond. It is prescribed as a lesson in CBSE's English course for class 9. Maggie asked her students to do a project on some of the lessons and Femi George's work is what I would like to present here. Femi converted the story into a beautiful comic strip. Her work will speak for itself and let me present it below.  Femi George Student of Carmel Public School, Vazhakulam, Kerala Similar post: The Little Girl

Florentino’s Many Loves

Florentino Ariza has had 622 serious relationships (combo pack with sex) apart from numerous fleeting liaisons before he is able to embrace the only woman whom he loved with all his heart and soul. And that embrace happens “after a long and troubled love affair” that lasted 51 years, 9 months, and 4 days. Florentino is in his late 70s when he is able to behold, and hold as well, the very body of his beloved Fermina, who is just a few years younger than him. She now stands before him with her wrinkled shoulders, sagged breasts, and flabby skin that is as pale and cold as a frog’s. It is the culmination of a long, very long, wait as far as Florentino is concerned, the end of his passionate quest for his holy grail. “I’ve remained a virgin for you,” he says. All those 622 and more women whose details filled the 25 diaries that he kept writing with meticulous devotion have now vanished into thin air. They mean nothing now that he has reached where he longed to reach all his life. The

Unromantic Men

Romance is a tenderness of the heart. That is disappearing even from the movies. Tenderness of heart is not a virtue anymore; it is a weakness. Who is an ideal man in today’s world? Shakespeare’s Romeo and Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay’s Devdas would be considered as fools in today’s world in which the wealthiest individuals appear on elite lists, ‘strong’ leaders are hailed as nationalist heroes, and success is equated with anything other than traditional virtues. The protagonist of Colleen McCullough’s 1977 novel, The Thorn Birds [which sold more than 33 million copies], is torn between his idealism and his natural weaknesses as a human being. Ralph de Bricassart is a young Catholic priest who is sent on a kind of punishment-appointment to a remote rural area of Australia where the Cleary family arrives from New Zealand in 1921 to take care of the enormous estate of Mary Carson who is Paddy Cleary’s own sister. Meggy Cleary is the only daughter of Paddy and Fiona who have eight so

Yesterday

With students of Carmel Margaret, are you grieving / Over Goldengrove unleaving…? It was one of my first days in the eleventh class of Carmel Public School in Kerala, the last school of my teaching career. One girl, whose name was not Margaret, was in the class looking extremely melancholy. I had noticed her for a few days. I didn’t know how to put the matter over to her. I had already told the students that a smiling face was a rule in the English class. Since Margaret didn’t comply, I chose to drag Hopkins in. I replaced the name of Margaret with the girl’s actual name, however, when I quoted the lines. Margaret is a little girl in the Hopkins poem. Looking at autumn’s falling leaves, Margaret is saddened by the fact of life’s inevitable degeneration. The leaves have to turn yellow and eventually fall. And decay. The poet tells her that she has no choice but accept certain inevitabilities of life. Sorrow is our legacy, Margaret , I said to Margaret’s alter ego in my class. Let

Octlantis

I was reading an essay on octopuses when friend John walked in. When he is bored of his usual activities – babysitting and gardening – he would come over. Politics was the favourite concern of our conversations. We discussed politics so earnestly that any observer might think that we were running the world through the politicians quite like the gods running it through their devotees. “Octopuses are quite queer creatures,” I said. The essay I was reading had got all my attention. Moreover, I was getting bored of politics which is irredeemable anyway. “They have too many brains and a lot of hearts.” “That’s queer indeed,” John agreed. “Each arm has a mind of its own. Two-thirds of an octopus’s neurons are found in their arms. The arms can taste, touch, feel and act on their own without any input from the brain.” “They are quite like our politicians,” John observed. Everything is linked to politics in John’s mind. I was impressed with his analogy, however. “Perhaps, you’re r