Fancies and Goodnights by John Collier

 


New York Review Books is to be commended on two counts: firstly, for making this overlooked John Collier classic collection of short stories available to a wider audience; secondly, for including an introductory essay by Ray Bradbury where Ray has three memorable lines:

"There is no umbilical cord between the characters in Collier’s world and the world we live in. It is a world were anything can happen and always does."

"The stories here are not serious and thank God for that."

"John Collier saw the irony of human encounters and the fun in putting it down."

Reading these fictional poppers is a toot. Before I offer commentary on my two favorites that just so happen to be the weirdest of the bunch, there's one bit of British author bio worth noting - as a joke, Collier penned a review of his own novel, His Monkey Wife, wherein he characterized the book as a half-baked attempt "to combine the qualities of the thriller with those of what might be called the decorative novel." And as something of a grand finale, jokin' John C offered the following concluding remark regarding the novelist's abysmal lack of talent: "From the classical standpoint his consciousness is too crammed for harmony, too neurasthenic for proportion, and his humor is too hysterical, too greedy, and too crude." Thanks, John Collier! Anyway, with stories this good, it's on with the show:

THUS I REFUTE BEELZY
 A tale with great depth. We have six-year-old Simon who no longer plays with the other children but spends his days in or near a decaying little summer-house down at the end of the garden. The lad carries a stick, struts up and down, mouthing and gesticulating. Beckoned by a bell to come along and join others for afternoon tea, Simon drifts in. Betty, a visitor, notices Simon’s face is almost a perfect triangle pointed at the chin and the child is as pale as pale can be.

Unexpectedly, Simon’s father, a dentist and man of science, bustles on the scene. The father wastes no time in letting everyone know, especially Simon, that he is the person squarely in charge. When Simon calls his father “Daddy,” his father insists Simon call him “Big Simon” and then goes on to pontificate how in times past little boys called their fathers “sir” or else they got a good spanking on the bottom. To this, Simon turns crimson.

Once seated around the table, the conversation turns to what “Small Simon” has been doing all afternoon. When Simon replies “nothing,” Big Simon states Little Simon should learn from experience and do something amusing tomorrow so as not to be bored. Simon replies, in turn, that he has learned. Father presses son on the details of the imaginative games he’s been playing and who exactly he's been playing with. Unable to contain himself, Simon tells his father in a soft voice, “Mr. Beelzy.”

Big Simon probes more into the nature of this “Mr. Beelzy,” to which Simon answers that Mr. Beelzy isn’t like anything. More back and forth until Big Simon, forever the staunch realist, insists his son acknowledge such beings as Mr. Beelzy are not real but simply a creation of mental fancy. When Simon refuses, Big Simon tells his son to go upstairs to his room and he will soon follow. At this point, Simon’s mother cries, “You are not going to beat the child?” To which Simon informs his father that Mr. Beelzy won’t let him, that Mr. Beelzy will come as a lion with wings and eat up anybody who tries to hurt him. Predictably, his father shouts, “Go on up with you!”

What’s especially fascinating about this tale is the tension between the everyday world, the world of science, and a second, less material, plane of existence. Of course, being English culture and society, it makes perfect sense John Collier would use Mr. Beelzy (short for Beelzebulb) as a representative from another, darker realm. Also worth pointing out, in several other of his tales, the author features the devil as one of the characters. Lastly, let me mention, Thus I Refute Beelzy has one heck of a powerful, unforgettable ending. I'm quite sure Big Simon would wholeheartedly agree!

GREEN THOUGHTS
Poor Mr. Mannering. If he only knew what he and others were in store for when he received an orchid with a certain sinister quality from a friend who perished mysteriously when out on a scientific expedition. What sort of orchid was it? He did not know but he took special care to plant his new acquisition in the section of his hothouse where he could always keep an eye on its health.

Not long thereafter, Mr. Mannering knew he need not worry – the orchid proved to be extraordinarily hardy, its stalks opening out bunches of darkly shinning leaves that quickly took over the space from any of its neighboring plants and flowers. Then after some time, tiny buds popped up here and there among its profuse greenery, buds that looked like the heads of flies. Mr. Mannering was overjoyed – possibly he is now the proud owner of a heretofore unknown variety of orchid, an orchid that might even be named after him and thus secure his rightful place in the world of botany.

But then it happened: Cousin Jane’s cat inexplicably disappeared. Not long thereafter, a strange new bud appeared on the orchid, a bud that continued to grow bigger and bigger until it reached the size of Mr. Mannering’s fist. And again, Mr. Mannering had to deal with strange disappearance number two: Cousin Jane herself.

I suspect nobody reading this will be shocked to know John Collier’s tale features a crossover in lifeforms, from human to plant. The only other such transformation I've come across in all of literature is Argentine writer Santiago Dabove’s Being Dust. As the Latin American author's yarn is harrowing, Collier’s contains light humor and signature British understatement. What a treat for fans of the fabulous. It isn't exactly Jane Austen's Mr. Darcy metamorphosing into Kafka's giant cockroach, but it's close!

I recommend you take the needed steps to put your hands on a copy of this collection and have some fun.


British author John Collier, 1901-1980

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