More About Politics in Fiction: "Farringdon Club" by JR Lawrie

I mention elsewhere that when creating worlds (which, granted, is quite difficult), writers should keep the possible political ramifications in mind. Not because a fantasy or romance must reference politics but because romance in a world of shallow politics is not as strong as romance in a world of intelligent politics.

I felt a similar reaction to a short story "The Farringdon Club" by J.R. Lawrie in the short story collection Let Your Heart Be Light.

I should state first that the stories in this anthology are well-written, clever, captivating, and hilarious.

*Spoilers*

My unease began during the middle of "The Farringdon Club" in which the protagonist Zack decides to hang out at his husband Richard's club. Richard is a kind of slender Mycroft character (and may, in fact, be based on Mark Gatiss). He is a power-broker for a variety of interested parties; like Mycroft, he works out of his club--which is less devoted to silence than the Diogenes Club but has the same commitment to tradition.

Richard lets his husband loose on the fuddy-duddy populace. At first, youthful Zack is uncomfortable. When he realizes that he can in fact channel his husband's power to effect change, he does so in a blithe, almost Puckish way.

It's funny and delightful.

Except . . .

At one point, an arrogant, close-minded fuddy-duddy snaps at Zack. When Richard hears about the incident, he smoothly, without fanfare, transfers a government contract away from the arrogant man's business. And sure, the tiny tyrant in all of us cheers: stupid jerk got what he deserved! But the libertarian in us should feel chills all down the spine. That's a lot of power for a single rude remark.

Lawrie is a skilled-enough writer that I was able to "fix" the issue in two ways: (1) it was entirely possible that the arrogant fuddy-duddy deserved to have the contract removed for reasons other than rudeness--like, you know, incompetence; (2) the characters are well-enough written that this event could actually further the plot.

That is, Richard doesn't think anything of using his power to punish those who offend/irritate him. He's been doing it all his life; why not keep doing it?

But Zach is plebeian enough to know how dangerous this is. Suppose the criteria for "rudeness" changes (see Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles)? Should someone be punished for mentioning the "wrong" political candidate? Or bringing up the "wrong" topic? Or offending the "wrong" celebrity? Or simply using the "wrong" rhetoric? Where does thought-policing end? (Why are moderns so willing to abuse Victorians, yet turn around and act exactly the same way? Ah, now you've crossed the line--I will give you the "cut direct!")

So I "wrote" a story addition in my head.

A middle manager in the company that loses the contract tracks down Zach. Let's call the middle manager, Simon. Simon knows that contracts get won and lost all the time; that's life. But on the basis of the anticipated contract, he had already made arrangements to move closer to his ailing grandfather--and to send money to his just-divorced sister. In other words, he is not some two-dimensional greedy villain (nice, ordinary people can work for arrogant jerks). He is a guy who needed the job, increase in salary, in order to pay bills and support family members, all the normal, ordinary reasons that people work.

He has a boyfriend who works at the Farringdon Club (just to complicate the labels). The boyfriend tells him what Zach and Richard did, perhaps gleefully (gotta put those rich, intolerant jerks in their places!). Simon realizes that the loss of the contract was not due to political maneuvering in Whitehall, which he could accept, but due to a "brat's" hurt feelings, which annoys him. He gets admittance to the club and tells off Zach--which leads to Zach pondering the use of power and how far a single word or complaint should go.

It would make for an interesting conversation between Zach and Richard. Good friends and lovers can disagree!

I should mention, at this point, that it is a sign of good writing by the original author that I could imagine so easily how Zach and Richard would converse on this topic while still remaining themselves. The characters took on a life of their own, which is impressive.