Evelyn Waugh’s A Handful of Dust is an ironic tale of condemnation. Amongst the delectation that characters express over the subjects of adultery, greed, spite, envy, and deception brews an underlying inclemency. In fact, it is quite easy for readers to find themselves blindly caught up in the comedic happenings as well; avoiding the absurdity of an afternoon tea party becoming a social battleground is nearly impossible. Unbeknownst to all, however, is that Waugh’s knowledge of the materialism that defined early 20th century English caste system reflects a genuine resentment, sure to rain down on those who are most deserving. Yet Waugh chooses to sacrifice the life of an innocent child to prove his point; a boy, John Andrew Last, is kicked by a horse, leaving those closest to him at the time of his death to unwittingly agree ‘it wasn’t anyone’s fault,’ completely disregarding the truth-society is to blame (105-106).
The boy’s father, Tony Last, had orchestrated a fox hunt and invited many people he’d mistakenly consider personal friends, some of whom are political affiliates of a group called Pigstanton. Yet not all of them show up in a retrospective mood. Rather, they opt for a bastardization of the tradition; they travel by means of motorcars and motorbikes instead of horseback (Waugh 101). Burlesque as it is, these politicians’ selfish attempt at fashionability drives the horses, including young John’s, wild in “a fog of exhaust” (Waugh 101). But it does evoke emotion in them:
The members of the Pigstanton noted this with ill-concealed resentment, for it disturbed their fixed opinion, according to which, while all fellow members of the hunt were clowns and poltroons, strangers were, without exception, mannerless lunatics, and a serious menace to anyone within a quarter mile of them. (Waugh 102)
This signifies one of many miscommunications prevalent throughout the book. Instead of simply rationalizing the situation-the vehicles’ overbearing presence had startled the horses and even made John physically sick-everyone is quick to point fingers; Miss Ripon, another rider on the hunt, is nearly thrown when her horse encounters a bakery van; when John is being taken home there is another near mishap upon encountering a country bus; finally, John is kicked by Miss Ripon’s horse when it is startled by a motorcycle’s backfire (Waugh 101-104). Indeed, it was no one’s fault but it is clear that the cause and effect of everyone’s materialistic competition for societal repute led the young lad to his grim fate.
Still, Waugh makes the path of this social climbing difficult to trace throughout the book; rather, it is ever-present. From the story opening with John Beaver, a quite pathetic status seeker, venturing to and from his many parties, to the story closing with Tony Last living out a life of Dickens-reading imprisonment, its readers are persistently treated to scenes of misunderstandings that are all equally inconsiderate towards society as a whole. Just as the book’s characters seem to empower themselves through the possessive caste system, someone else is always being hurt and, eventually, they themselves end up in progressively worse situations.
For instance, had Tony never inherited the Hetton house or insisted on maintaining its rigid interior he would have never driven his wife, Brenda, to acquire John Beaver as a sexual accessory. Mrs. Last would have valued her family more and, in turn, would have never driven her husband to acquiring liquor as a psychological remedy. They both lose total interest in each other, and leave many others in their wake, including poor John Andrew (who was, undeniably, a bit of a brat himself). Once he’s lost, they both have even larger voids to fill within themselves and decide to go their separate ways; despite the pending divorce, Brenda sticks with material possessions while Tony decides the best thing he can do is try his hand at adventure and exploration (Waugh 152). Of course, both are doomed to live unhappily ever after.
By illustrating this cycle of emotional discontentment Waugh has called upon his readers to adapt, or at least consider, a distinct form of ascetism. He has proclaimed the aesthetic of proper existential thought: ignore the cliques; the material goods; the swelling of the void; what is essential is transcendence.
The history of the Lasts would have never lasted had it not been for Hetton; yet it does not account for any sense of individualism. In fact, that is what many characters despised-the individuality of the grand, gothic estate itself. In contrast, they have only been encapsulated in print; a fictitious story.
Obviously, Evelyn Waugh would not remain if it weren’t for his writing, although he did not simply write for himself. In terms of Handful of Dust, he wrote to those whom know of this need; whom know what imprisonment feels like; whom know the absurdity of the quest for popularity; and whom know that society is to blame.
Works Cited
Waugh, Evelyn. A Handfull of Dust. 27 ed. New York: Penguin, 1988.
