How I tried to be a rat but failed because of Conan Doyle!

I am provoked to this post by a hero-worshipping essay in The Paris Review by Michael Dirda on the subject of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (1859-1930).  I, too, loved the man but not for his famous Sherlock Holmes stories which I don't think I have ever read but for just one book, an early one by him, The White Company.

My mother was not a religious woman.  As an illegitimate (and subsequently the mother of yet another - me!) she no doubt felt the scorn and whips of the Scottish Presbyterian Kirk and probably for that reason she made no effort to inculcate Christianity into me.  (Although oddly enough, she kicked up when told that I was to be married in a Roman Catholic Church - 'I'll nae set foot in a Papist kirk', she muttered darkly until I spelled out a few home truths!)

So my admittedly rather dodgy morals were self-taught, or to be precise, they arose from my constant reading of Wizard and Hotspur comics in which mostly public school types, with a profound sense of honour, did amazing feats of bravery whilst maintaining at all times a lip stiffer than a rod of iron and accompanied at all times by a strict modesty which would allow of absolutely no boasting!  Then, aged 11, I attended my first 'big school' and the first book given to us for study was Conan Doyle's The White Company.  God, how I loved that book!  I even stole it - see what I mean about my dodgy morals?

However, the adventures of young Alleyne Edricson and his 'boss' Sir Nigel Loring enthralled me.  These were men of action and men of honour.  They had to kill in the English cause, the book is set in the Hundred Years War, but they did so to a strict code.  All idealistic clap-trap, of course, but inserted into the mind of a young boy it introduced notions of right and wrong such that, whilst I have committed many a wrong, I am at least ashamed of it and recognise it for what it is.

If any of you have young children or grand-children you could do them a great service by buying them a copy of this book for Christmas.

 

Comments

[Whyaxye]

Your friends over on Deltoid are aware of your illegitimacy, and are fond of expressing it in the vernacular.

[David Duff]

Indeed, and I wear it as a badge of honour and like Edmund I cry, "Now, Gods, stand up for bastards!"