Back at the end of last year, as we finished our second Lockdown and almost immediately began the third, I gave in and decided to banish the worst effects of continued incarceration and got out a jigsaw puzzle. And after a few days I had finished it, with a little help from a grandson.
While I had submitted to that curious addiction that jigsaws create in me (just one more piece, just that piece that goes there) I thought a lot about the opening scene of The Wind in the Willows. The Mole is spring cleaning his house, when he gets fed up with it and, with ‘an aching back and weary arms’, he decides to do something else.
It was small wonder, then, that he suddenly flung down his brush on the floor, said “Bother!” and “O blow!” and also “Hang spring-cleaning!” and bolted out of the house without even waiting to put on his coat. (3)
I longed for the moment when we could leave our homes, not worried by Covid and masks and 2 metre rules, and escape into spring. It seemed like it was not far away, for were all going to be vaccinated and this long trial would soon be over.
And as the jigsaw progressed and I searched among all those shapes with small dabs of green for the right one, I promised myself I would read The Wind in the Willows and enjoy again the adventures of the Mole, his friend the Rat, the wild Toad, and severe Mr Badger.
(There was another book that appealed to me for a similar reason: One Fine Day by Mollie Panter-Downes. I had been told this novel was about the moment, a year after VE Day, when Laura could say that the war was over and they could start afresh. I reviewed that book in July. You can find the post here.)
If you know The Wind in the Willows, you will be aware that for the Mole it was not easy to emerge into the sunlight by the river.
So he scraped and he scratched and scrabbled and scrooged and then he scrooged again and scrabbled and scratched and scraped, working busily with his little paws and muttering to himself, “Up we go! Up we go!” till at last, pop! his snout came out into the sunlight, and he found himself rolling in the warm grass of a great meadow. (3)
And so it has been for us, despite the vaccine, and despite the ending of restrictions, I still feel we are scrooging and sometimes still scrabbling.
The Mole is a fine fellow, and he quickly strikes up a strong friendship with the Rat, a water rat, who is never so happy as when he is messing about in boats. He is also something of a writer:
During his short day he sometimes scribbled poetry or did other small domestic jobs about the house (28)
Off they go in the Rat’s boat, for the first of many picnics, and to enjoy an idyllic Edwardian summer, until the Toad spoils everything.
The Toad is a boastful, talkative, self-satisfied animal, prone to passions about boats, then caravans and so on until his interest is taken elsewhere. But it is in motorcars that he has to face his lack of responsibility, and he is imprisoned following yet another smash-up, placed ‘in the remotest dungeon of the best-guarded keep of the stoutest castle in all the length and breadth of Merry England’. (76).
It takes the combined forces, ingenuity and manipulation of Mr Badger (forever speaking in the voice of Michael Hordern), the Rat and the Mole to get the Toad to see sense, and to win back Toad Hall for him.
The character of the Toad is compelling. He is very tricksy and resilient. Here he is as he wakes up the morning after he has made his escape from the castle, dressed as a washerwoman.
He shook himself and combed the dry leaves out of his hair with his fingers; and, his toilet complete, marched forth into the comfortable morning sun, cold but confident, hungry but hopeful, all nervous terrors of yesterday dispelled by rest and sleep and frank and heartening sunshine. (114)
Yes, I know that toads don’t have hair, but if they did it would be rather wild and straw-coloured.
His homecoming is delayed as the friends have to see off the weasels and stoats from the Wild Wood who have occupied Toad Hall during his absence. They do this thanks to the Mole’s subterfuge. Mr Badger insists that they prepare a banquet. The Rat has to persuade the Toad that at the banquet he will not make a single speech or sing a single song. Not even a little one.
“It’s no good, Toady; you know well that your songs are all conceit and boasting and vanity; and your speeches are all self-praise and – and – well, gross exaggeration and – and –“
“And gas,” put in the Badger in his common way. (153-4)
So here we are now, the pandemic is not over yet, not here and not in the whole world outside either. There is no banquet for us yet. But I enjoyed re-acquainting myself with this book, even though all the main characters are male, and refer to people as ‘fellows’.
And I have checked online and found that there are many more jigsaw puzzles available on the theme of The Wind in the Willows.
The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame, first published in 1908. I used the Penguin Threads edition published in 2012.