“Fire down below” by William Golding

JMW Turner
Snow Storm - 1842

By the time Edmund Talbot arrives at the end of his story, he is a changed man. And so is William Golding, the writer of “Fire down below”, the last part of that marvelous sea-story.

There is after all a time span of thirteen years (1976-1989) between the conception of “Right of passage”, the first part of the trilogy and the publication of “Fire down below.

“Rite of Passage”, which set off with the assertion that “man could die of shame” was still that typical dark book, written by a Golding fighting of his demons, an author the readers knew from his previous works.

The next book, “Close Quarters”, has already a lighter tone, with a hero earning, fumbling and stumbling, his badge of courage and falling madly in love. Still written by the same author, but now a different man, winner of the Booker and the Noble prize, Golding is by now enjoying national and international appraisal and recognition.

But with “Fire down below”, the final and third part, it is play – time! Golding has nothing more to prove and passionately and clearly with joy, he unleashes his creative forces on a subject close to his hart and challenges with this maritime masterpiece no one less than Samuel Taylor Coleridge and Edgar Alan Poe.

“Knuckle biting” says John Carey and indeed, “Fire down below” has all the excitement and trepidation of a genuine adventure story. As said, Poe’s Arthur Gordon Pym and the “Ancient Mariner” are not far away when the old battle ship is surfing the huge following seas of the “roaring forties” towards a “blink” at the horizon which might as well be their happy destination as their inevitable doom.

Crammed with salty “tarpaulin” terminology, awash with sea-topics, sea-issues, seafaring problems and seafaring solutions, the words urge the reader forwards as if we too are thundering down these liquid mounts. There are the fascinating descriptions of the monster waves. There is a bad and nearly fatal broach. There is the issue of fixing of the foremast, the technique of the frapping, the installation of life lines, the use of sea anchors, and the use of dragging oil to calm the waves. You learn to construct makeshift fenders, alternative ways to estimate longitude. You dodge freak waves, cope with storms, read clouds and finally encounter that mother of all horrors: an ice-walled lee shore!

“Fire down below” is of course much more than just a sea-yarn. During the long voyage, two major storylines are developed by the writer. First there is the increasing competition between Benet, the young innovative risk-taking and creative second lieutenant and the more conservative, careful first lieutenant Charles Summers. Captain Anderson apparently sides more towards Benét but Edmund Talbot for once sides openly and aggressively with his friend Charles Summers.

The competition and the factions separate on their opinion of the complex technique needed to secure the moving foremast with an iron hoop reshaped with open fire (inside that wooden boat!) and then cooled down. This is the fire down below of the title and a cause for great worries for it might be too dangerous to do at sea. I will not give away if the technique works or not, but Golding gives it, be assured a very unexpected and ironic twist.

A second storyline is the one of the couple Prettiman. Prettiman is a social philosopher, disciple of Voltaire (and keen advocate of Candide) who wants to recreate a utopian colony, based on the principles of the Enlightment, in the Australian outback. Prettiman asks Talbot, who has befriended him, to join his noble utopian enterprise but Edmund does not answer. Social responsibility and Equality are too new and strange to Edmund to take an immediate decision. Carey states in his biography that the Prettiman’s would loosely be based on Golding’s idealistic parents. Ideals the writer did not share or did not publicly defend. According to Carey, Edmund feels ashamed of his cowardly failure to support Prettiman’s altruism and Hopes for Mankind”. But I think that this should not necessarily be so. Talbot could also refuse his participation (although he does not refuse, he simply does not respond) because he feels that, even if it is noble aim, their enterprise is by definition utopian and not realistic. For thus he not remark in his dream “…they were going to some great festival of joy, though where in the desert around them it might be found there was no telling.” It sounds to me that in the eyes of Talbot, who is more realistic, they are doomed already.

I herewith come to the end of the reading of Golding’s sea trilogy. And a most diverting and interesting sea yarn it was. I leave it open if Talbot and his co-passengers will ultimately reach Australia, as I do not want to spoil the fun.

The one year travel with young Edmund Talbot has endeared him to me nearly quite as much as that other “Life child”, Mann’s Hans Castorp.

Rites of passage, Close quarters and Fire down below, will get an honorary place in my library, three great works which will invite rereading time and again.

So dear reader, grab your foul weather gear, wash down your sea-sick pills with a dash of “Navy Rum” and do read Golding’s masterly written trilogy “To the end of the earth”.

“Close Quarters” by William Golding ( second reading )

William Turner
Sunrise with Sea Monsters c. 1845

The first book I tackled while on holiday was Golding’s “Close Quarters”. In fact it was a second reading for I was not really satisfied with my first review and I felt I had to go back to CQ for a better comprehension of its content, especially before tackling the last part of the trilogy “Fire down below”.

“This voyage will be the making of you, Mr. Talbot” prophesizes one of the ship’s officers and so it is. We witness in the 17 chapters of the book (of which only one bears a title) the further development of our friend, young Edmund Talbot.

We are still on the un – named ship on which Talbot and his fellow passengers, crew and immigrants, hope to reach Australia on the other side of the world. The ship has freed itself from the calms and the heat of the doldrums in the middle of the Atlantic, and is now making way south to reach the prevailing east – ward winds.

On rereading CQ, I discern now three identifiable parts, each a stage in our hero’s development and understanding of the world around him. As Talbot celebrates his birthday on page one, I think Golding hints at this “development” structure. In each part Edmund Talbot has to confront new feelings and take emotional hurdles which will lead ultimately, we hope, to responsible adulthood.

Part one takes about 5 chapters and I would label it ironically “Courage under fire”. Indeed Talbot has to prove and does valiantly prove his courage in two incidents that badly shake the community on board of the old warship. First there is the incident whereby the boat gets severely damaged when taken aback, an incident caused by a grave neglect of responsibility by Lieutenant Deverel who has left his watch to have a drink. The incident is important as it sets in motion the final destruction of the old ship which is now literally falling apart after “one blow too many”. Also the conflict between Captain Anderson and Lieutenant Deverel starts now to build up towards its climax and thirdly Talbot gets in that incident an opportunity to show that in a crisis he has the right attitude, even though it is to no avail and he gets seriously knocked for his intention.

The second happening in which Talbot can prove his courage is the appearance of a threatening sail at the horizon and everybody, passengers included, prepare for the battle. Here too Talbot, although seriously damaged in previous incidents, shows his courage by putting himself on the first row of the “entering – party”. Edmund has really become more of a man during this voyage. In the first book “Rites of passage”, Talbot could still be (mis-)used by Captain Anderson in a cover-up scheme but this time he courageously stands up to him. When the Captain orders that he should be a witness in an incident with Deverel, Talbot refuses with a: “I do not wish to interfere in a service matter” – rebuke. Edmund has clearly learnt his lesson.

The Second distinctive part of the book, which I would call “ Love and Passion” starts with the exceptionally titled chapter six “The great day”, which sees Edmund fall in love “head over heels” with lovely Marion Chumley, a passenger on the other boat. With Love come all the undesirable by-effects: passion, (self) doubt, jealousy, suspicion and separation. The amorous behavior of Edmund makes up for the funniest scenes of the book. So “madly” is young Talbot in Love that he has to be dragged away and locked up in his hutch to protect himself against his uncontrollable passion. This part ends with the “she is gone” end-phrase of chapter eight but unhappily lingers trough the next two chapters.

The third and more difficult part is tricky to label. It could be called “Truth and Responsibility”, but too much happens to label it accurately at this point of my reading of the trilogy. It starts off with a “descent in to Hell” in chapter eleven and end runs until the end of the book.

Two things trigger this haunted last part of the book: Edmund has moved into the “cursed” hutch of the late reverend Colley and Wheeler, the servant of Talbot, who fell over board in the previous book, reappears, like a real “revenant”, a ghost back from the underworld!

Talbot’s descent into hell is of course a descent into the inner world of that huge hulk of a wooden warship. The crippled ship moves wildly, the inside of the boat is a dark confusion of noise and smells. The first “gate-keeper” Talbot meets is the satanically depicted master – gunner Mr. Askew (ask you?), enveloped in a disgusting smoke cloud and a face reddened by the glow of his pipe. In a quite venomous conversation, he confronts Talbot with false and not so false (crew) opinions. For instance Askew challenges Edmund with the fact that he enjoys the title “Lord” even though he is not a peer. He accuses Talbot’s lofty attitude at moments he could have sided with the common people. He criticizes Edmund’s naïveté for not knowing how the real world functions – for instance that officers will never attack other officers in public. “It’s what comes from not knowing the rules where you are sir”. He confronts him with social issues of which Talbot is not even aware of and finally mocks Talbot’s friendship: “I am surprised you never heard, seeing he was such a friend of yours.”

Talbot flees deeper into the boat, and finds Jones, the mysterious purser, who makes it clear that if the boat will sink, and there being not enough life-rafts, it will not be woman and children first, but the fittest who will make it. Jones, to the astonishment of Talbot even develops the idea: not only the physically fit but also those who like himself have financially secured a “life-insurance”. Money can buy you security, also far out at sea.

Finally Talbot arrives at the central spot of the boat, where she endures the least movement and where the chronometers are kept. He finds there Lt Benét and the first Lt Charles Summers who are debating the question of the boat’s safety and the measures to take to reach Australia before the ship goes to pieces. Summers and Benét are becoming more and more competitors to each other. Summers is a more conservative experienced sea-dog, while Benét, the dashing young risk taker, with the blessing of the Captain, advocates a risky drag rope action to clean the hull and gain some speed. This action is not without risk, especially in open sea. (Pieces of the old boat might be scraped off together with the encrusted weed or coral).

Edmund Talbot, his head spinning with all the “Truth’s” he has heard, flees back to the safety of the deck.

In a dramatic finale of the book: three, nearly simultaneous “coup de theatre”, happen. All three are of major importance to our hero but I will not spoil them for you. There is a possible sighting of a Sea-Monster, a ghastly suicide, and a reconciliation with an old friend. Typically Golding, these occurrences stir up more new questions than that they bring answers.

But as the reader knows, we are not yet in Australia and the final book of the trilogy has yet to come.

Two strands in Golding’s nautical yarn surface time and again in the different pages and make up for the (at moments) darker mood of the novel although the general tone of CQ is lighter, more happy, than “Rites of Passage”

First there is the “coming apart” of the ship which is described as if that huge inanimate wooden hulk slowly turns into something alive. This disintegration mirrors the general coming apart of each and every passenger on the boat. This whole fantasy of the ship coming alive is triggered when the drunken carpenter Gibb, who on an inspection round of the structure of the boat spooks Talbot with a yarn. He tells him how, when he was still a young shipmate on another boat, he found a bud growing on one of the wooden knees of the ship and in a nightmare saw the bud turn into a twig, the twig getting leaves and the boat starting to turn into a green living organism. Talbot, who has already noticed the green weed growing, like hair, on the hull, feels even before he sees that the boat has indeed acquired an awkward movement. Losing its rigidity the central part of the ship starts to “hogg” on the crests of the waves and “sagg” in the troughs. At a certain moment it seems to Edmund that the boat has really come alive: “There was a strange feeling in my naked feet…” observes Talbot….”It was true, good God, the planking was alive! There was a creeping and almost muscular movement! It was a realization even more disconcerting than the brutally uneven movement of the whole ship as the wave passed under her”
The second element that accounts for a more uncanny feeling throughout the novel is the return of that creepy figure Wheeler, or is it Wheeler’s ghost, which is back. Talbot’s lost servant has come back from the world of the death! For really, one cannot imagine how someone who is washed overboard can accidently be picked up by another ship in the middle of the ocean. Says Talbot addressing his spectral servant: “You was a lucky dog, you know. It must have been a chance in a million! It would be proper to give thanks, you know”. Then as if blasphemy was just spoken: “An extraordinary shudder shook the man from head to foot”. Wheeler does later confess “I am in Hell Sir” and seems to be even more afraid than before. He sticks to Talbot, haunting him like a shadow and keeping close to the evil hutch in which Colley died earlier. Although he explains hesitatingly to Talbot, that he just slipped and fell overboard he explains later that the crew bears him a grudge for revealing some matters in the Colley affaire. Talbot forces him to confess what exactly happened to Colley, but we are not informed for says Talbot: “the information was of such a nature that I do not propose to commit it to this journal”.

Once more a truly good book: easy to read, a fascinating recreation of a fictive world and food for thought served as a six course meal. A sure recommendation!


( about the illustration " Sunrise with sea monsters " )

We have already commented that the "dissolution of the forms" present in Turner's last works was interpreted by numerous critics as the beginning of a dementia. Even Ruskin himself was quite disturbed by these works by Turner, who was sometimes forced to place nails in the frames to indicate the top and the bottom part of the canvas.
The  (1845, London , Tate Gallery) is one of the best examples of this last epoch. The forms of the sea monsters are hardly recognizable in the middle of the omnipresent marine atmosphere. The almost divine quality of the light reflects Turner's theory of considering the Sun as the centre of all life.

Close Quarters by William Golding

In the poor light of an early morning in July 1967, William Golding’s yacht “Tenacious”, a cutter-rigged traditional wooden barge, crossing the English Channel, had a collision with the Japanese freighter Heian Maru. As the Maru disappeared in the morning fog, the “Tenacious” was left alone, sinking.

“They clouted our stern, holed us, and disappeared into the mist. Our wooden stern was stove in and we started sinking very quickly”

On the yacht, besides Golding, were his wife and daughter and some close friends. During the next 45 minutes, the bewildered crew considered the ludicrous options to escape their fate: a plastic sound-horn, a hand held emergency torch, a small inflatable raft.

For Golding, an ex Navy officer, well aware of the odds, these 45 minutes must have been truly traumatic.

But the crew of the Maru had luckily been aware of the collision and were able to steer back to the place of the contact, with the help of the radar that had initially failed to spot the yacht and the British pilot who was still on board. Golding and his loved one’s where saved " in extremis".

The “Tenacious” unfortunately was lost

Golding never did get another boat, or ever sailed again far from shore. The “Tenace” disaster had a lasting effect on the writer’s confidence and self-esteem.

That this experience kept haunting Golding is proven by that threatening background atmosphere, that rumble sense of menace, that pervades Golding’s novel “Close Quarters”: Drama at sea does not come necessarily with high waves and strong winds; sometimes the horror engulfs the luckless sailor on a calm sea and windless day.

Close Quarters, written in 1987, is the middle part of the Sea-trilogy “To the Ends of the Earth”. It follows “Rites of Passage”( reviewed earlier) and precedes “Fire down Below”. Nevertheless, there is a remarkable style breach in comparaison with the previous book. “Rites of Passage” was an impressive dark allegory and this follow-up is completely different. It is lighter in tone, there seem to be no allegoric intentions, it is no mirror of what a reader called: “the horrific testimony to humankind’s propensity to evil”.

But ofcourse it remains an excellent piece of fiction writing.

The still unnamed old warship, after being blown aback in a nasty gale by the negligence of the officer on watch ( Lieutenant Deverel), has got one blow to many and seems to be damaged in her very structure and appears to be sinking slowly. The Foremast is damaged and has to be brought down. This considerably slows down the old ship.

Why then, if the conditions on board remain critical, this lighter style?

According to Golding’s biographer, the major reason lies in the fact that “Close Quarters” was written in one of the happiest moments of Golding’s life. The writer was by now enjoying his Noble –prize status and he moved to his new home, a splendid Georgian Manor named Tullimaar. Golding was also enjoying a happy time with his wife, when they were finally able to make their dream voyage through Canada.

“Close Quarters” is a real "middle book", unlike “Rites of Passage” it is not a self-contained novel and to fully enjoy it, one needs some knowledge of its predecessor. The reader has to understand the characters presented in the first book, to fully appreciate what happens in the second. 

Like the first part, the book is presented as a journal, albeit this time a personal one, well structured and organized. Our friend, young Edmund Talbot, still that mixture of charm and unconscious arrogance, starts the narrative by telling how he bumped his head ( twice ) quiet badly and in my opinion after that he becomes an unreliable narrator, “par excellence”.

Unreliable , because the things Talbot narrates are never what they seem. The threatening French Man O’war turns out to be the British HMS Alcyone, announcing the end of war, Napoleon’s abdication and his exile to Elba. When Talbot , during an investigation in the very bowels of the ship, clearly hears surging water inside the boat, nobody can confirm if the sounds come from within the sinking ship. His servant Wheeler, who was lost overboard, is back! A new officer appears on board, another vanishes. Thickets of weeds, engulf the old ship, and seem to turn into a sea-monster slowly dragging the boat to a complete halt.

The biggest trick of course is the two boats meeting each other in the middle of the ocean and the sea being so calm (very unlikely), that the two becalmed ships are attached to each other to celebrate the victory over the French in a Victorian ball organized on deck! Talbot gets the opportunity to dance with a young woman, a passenger of the Alcyon, beautiful Miss Chumley, with whom he has fallen in love, head over heels. No doubt, the reader will enjoy this infatuation, as much as young Talbot does!

Besides the Love affair of our friend Talbot, Golding still brings up the same issues of privilege, class, hope, he tackled in the first book. The initiation, like the voyage, is far from being over...

Golding’s summer read, while composing “Close Quarters” was N.A.M. Rodger’s “ the Wooden World: An Anatomy of the Georgian Navy. Golding had accepted to review it for a newspaper.

Rodger defended the Navy against the popular assumption that it’s motive forces were in Churchill’s words “ Rum, Sodomy and the lash” Golding, as an ex Naval officer agreed that flogging captains were fiction, and that alcohol consumption was never so as too endanger the boat and crew, but he did not agree with Rodgers that sodomy did not take place. Golding argued: “There is vast oral evidence in naval speech, custom and lore that where men are cooped up in a wooden world for weeks and months at a time, unnatural acts take the place of natural ones”. Golding’s affirmation ( without judgment) brings to mind the reaction of Bruce Chatwin’s parents, when confronted with the possible cause of theirs son’s HIV infection. Bruce’s mother is shocked, but his father, a Navy officer with a tough reputation, strangely accepts his son’s homosexuality more easily than his wife.

Talbot might be in love with Miss Chumley, but others might be ( never is anything sure in this book ) in love with Edmund ! “Close Quarters” therefore in treating the issue of homosexuality as an undercurrent theme, follows in this the mood set by “Rites of Passage” which ended with Reverend Colley’s “dying of shame”. Colley’s unhappy ghost still lingers between the pages. His hutch for instance remains empty as the superstitious crewmembers and passengers avoid that damned place. Edmund, who himself is fearless, in attempt to lure his Miss Chumley to his bunk, frees his own hutch and moves to the mirror hutch on the other side: Colley’s hutch, which incidently will claim another victim ! A suicide of someone, who has just confessed to Talbot, that he is in hell!

Once more Golding has managed to write a very entertaining and interesting book. It really is a page turner. And now he has even instilled in us a curiosity about Talbot’s further adventures. Will they all reach Australia? What shall be the outcome of the encounter with lovely Miss Chumley? What shall be the fate of the wallowing old ship?

The impatient reader has to wait till Golding, our own pilot through the mists of our dark conscience, picks us up and bring us back to safety.

( to be continued )