I well remember who first told me about this novel -- it was in about 1985, and my friend, whose opinion I respected hugely, said it was one of the great novels of the twentieth century. But he didn't tell me any more about it, and the title led me to think it was probably a war story, a genre from which I generally run a mile. Of course I have heard it mentioned from time to time over the years since then, but it was only a few weeks ago that I was in the library and spotting on the shelves thought it was time I gave it a go. I have to tell you that he was quite right. This is a truly extraordinary book. Published in 1915, it shows, I suppose, the influence of Ford's great contemporaries Conrad and James, but to say that is rather to diminish the novel when in fact I enjoyed it a great deal more than anything I have read of Conrad's or even James's.
So who was Ford Maddox Ford, and why did I know so little about him? Well, you can click the link to answer the first part of the question -- as for the second part, put it down to my ignorance, lack of curiosity, and the fact that I am not particularly well up in early 20th century literature. One thing I did know was that Ford was the lover of Jean Rhys, whose first novel Postures is said to be based on their relationship. I now know that he was the lover of a great many other people too, a fact that some people have seen as relevant to the plot of The Good Soldier.
Famously the novel begins: "This is the saddest story I have ever heard". But -- apart from the fact that it is often quite comic -- the narrator, Dowell, an American millionaire, is in a way misleading us right from the start, as, far from just hearing the story, he turns out to be a participant in the events he tells us about. He is trapped in an unhappy marriage with the rather vulgar, flirtatious Florence, whose supposed heart condition means they do not have a physical relationship. It is also the reason for their visit to a European spa, where they meet an English couple, the Ashburnhams. Edward is a retired military man, the good soldier of the title, and his marriage to the beautiful Leonora is a sham. Edward is unable to resist women, and has several affairs, all well known to Leonora, though Dowell is for a long time ignorant of this, and is shocked when he finally discovers that his wife Florence has been Edward's mistress for nine years. If you had any idea that people in 1915 behaved respectably, think again -- this is not subtitled A Tale of Passion for nothing.
I could go on. But honestly any amount of telling the plot would not give you any idea of why this is such a wonderful novel. It is much admired as a modernist text, mainly, I suppose, because of Ford's brilliant narrative technique. Dowell is naive to the point of foolishness, and his inability to perceive the raging passions that are going on right under his nose is both funny and deeply pathetic. His admiration for Edward knows no bounds, even after he has finally understood that Edward is an incorrigible philanderer. As for his method of telling the story, it is quite remarkable -- he rarely goes in a straight line, backtracking when he feels like it or jumping forward, and is well aware of it, as he says at the beginning of Part Four:
I have, I am aware, told this story in a very rambling way so that it may be difficult for anyone to find their path through what may be a sort of maze. I cannot help it. I have stuck to the idea of being in a country cottage with a silent listener, hearing between the gusts of the wind and amidst the noises of the distant sea, the story as it comes. And, when one discusses an affair -- a long, sad affair -- one goes back, one goes forward. One remembers points that one has forgotten and one explains them all the more minutely since one recognises that one has forgotten to mention them in their proper places and that one may have given, by omitting them, a false impression.
It's taken me quite a long time to read this book because of the richness of it -- I couldn't manage and didn't want to rush through it. I'm tempted to start again at the beginning straight away, though, something I very rarely do. I feel like saying -- if you only ever read one more novel again in the course of your life, let it be this one. A bit over the top, maybe -- but do please give it a go.
