Scott-King's Modern Europe
is a short, perhaps over-short novella by Evelyn Waugh. Written in 1946, it
visits a fictitious part of Europe largely unknown to its determinedly English
protagonist. In 1946 Scott-King had been classical master at Grantchester for
twenty-five years, we are told in the tale's first sentence. This locks the
book's principal character firmly in his place within the English class system,
sketches his likely character, with its staid dedication to what has always
been and remains "right", and posits him without doubt in the apolitical
conservatism of an ultimately submissive establishment. It's the kind of
England that used to believe that fog at Dover meant that Europe was cut off.
Thus Waugh presents him to his undoubtedly sympathetic readers.
Out of a non-political blue
comes a request from the little-known and less understood and now independent
state of Neutralia that Scott-King attend a national celebration of a
long-forgotten national poet called Bellorius. The writer died in 1646 and left
a fifteen-hundred-line tract, written in Latin hexameters, of unrelenting
tedium. It described a journey to an unknown new world island, where there
subsisted a virtuous, chaste and reasonable community, Waugh tells us. This
utopia was left forgotten and unread, until it appeared in a German edition in
the twentieth century, a copy of which Scott-King picked up while on holiday
some years ago. Thus the teacher of classics began a relationship with this
European obscurity that led to this invitation to visit his homeland.
Scott-King's Modern Europe
is so short that any more detail of its plot would undermine its reading.
Suffice it to say that the international delegation is not what it seems.
Things do not go to plan, or perhaps do, depending on your perspective on
Neutralian politics, whose internecine struggles could not be further from
anything associated with aloof Britishness, let alone it's higher class
relative, Englishness. Life becomes unbearably complicated for the scrupulously
fair Scott-King. He may, perish the possibility, suffer such ignominy as not
having enough traveller's cheques left to cover his hotel bill!
As the farce develops, the
celebration of Bellorius morphs into something decidedly more contemporary,
whose limits become ever more blurred. Most of those involved are revealed, in
some form or another, as frauds, except of course for the stolid and enduring
Englishman of the title, who throughout remains the epitome of the innocent
victim. If there is fault in the world, then it's all the fault of foreigners,
those who live over there, those who speak the unintelligible languages that
aren't English and live in those unbearable climates that have sunshine. They
do not play fair in politics, and confuse responsibility with gain, All
unthinkable at home, of course...
It all works out in the
end, after a fashion. Let it be recorded here only that, true to the values of
the English Public School where Scott-King has taught, it is a former pupil,
ever loyal, that eventually extracts his former teacher from his troubles. But
what is enduringly interesting about this little book is the depth of the
metaphor that classical education presents. It is a culture in decline. Its
vales are destined not to endure. Inevitably, the values enshrined in the
assumption of this enduringly educated state are set themselves to disappear.
The English surely are going to become like the untrustworthy, squabbling,
divided Neutralians, and all the other foreigners with their unacceptable
strange ways, who previously had only ever lived "over there".
Written at the end of the
second world war, when perhaps mythically the British had stood alone, the book
is perhaps the author's reflection on events that saw the division of Europe
into opposing camps. The territorial integrity of the United Kingdom, and essentially
England within it, had been maintained. But those "over there" we're
still foreign and thankfully they weren’t “over here”. Their values weren't our
values, and yet their influence was all-pervading, or at least potentially so.
Britain, and the English on the throne within it, we're still alone, still
threatened. This is the culture that is suffused throughout Evelyn Waugh's
little book and it is the assumption that makes its reading now at least
poignant. It might even have been written a week ago, based on anyone's list of
presumptions that surrounded the Brexit referendum. Everything that was not an
English value is manifest in this non-culture of Neutralia, a nation that needs
to invent heroes raised from within the mediocrity of its unrecognized and -
even more reprehensible - unrecorded past. How non-English can one get?
Waugh's humour enlivens the
story and his unapologetic Englishness almost renders himself as the principal
character. It's is short enough to be read in an hour, but it's sentiment and
message will resonate very strongly with contemporary readers. In Britain's
current political context, Scott-King's Modern Europe is a little book with a
big message.
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