Spilling Off the Page:
Power Struggles In and Around Roald Dahl’s “William and Mary”
That tale runs thus: Odin departed from home and came to a certain place where nine thralls were mowing hay. He asked if they desired him to whet their scythes, and they assented. Then he took a hone from his belt and whetted the scythes; it seemed to them that the scythes cut better by far, and they asked that the hone be sold them. But he put such a value on it that whoso desired to buy must give a considerable price: nonetheless all said that they would agree, and prayed him to sell it to them. He cast the hone up into the air; but since all wished to lay their hands on it, they became so intermingled with one another that each struck with his scythe against the other's neck (Hare).
Through the years, Roald Dahl has been accused of anti-feminism and anti-Semitism, general racism, blunt vulgarity, thinly veiled nymphomania, and violent anarchy. Meanwhile, other accounts color him as a caring husband, loving father, brilliant innovator, and situational pacifist. One reviewer summarized, “Dahl…was a man of many contradictions: a Tory who loved to subvert authority, a misanthrope who found optimism in adversity, a shameless self-promoter who enjoyed giving money to worthy causes” (Kakutani, C21). Some contradictions boarder on hypocrisy; for example, in an interview with reporter Nancy Mills he asserts: “I would never write an autobiography. I think it’s the height of vanity and egocentricity” (N4). Three years later he released Boy: Tales of Childhood, the first of two autobiographies he would write before his death.[1] Yet even so complex a character as Dahl focuses on certain themes time and time again. An attempt to piece together his worldview based on clues gleaned from his works reveals that the thread that ties Dahl’s works together is not so much an autobiographical element as an obsession with power and control as themes. Dahl seems almost Hobbesian in his treatment of the subjects, although such a mold would be yet another imperfect fit.[2] This paper will deal mostly with the short story “William and Mary” from the collection Kiss, Kiss, analyzing the power struggles that are apparent both within the story and in the presentation of it (17-54).
Best known in recent times as a children’s author, Dahl started out writing very adult stories for publications including The New Yorker, The Atlantic Monthly, and Playboy. Eventually he began publishing collections of these stories. Kiss, Kiss was published in 1960, the third of these collections. The second story in the collection, “William and Mary,” opens with the death of Mr. William Pearl and his final letter being handed to his wife, Mrs. Mary Pearl. The solicitor does not meet her eyes, and he refers to her as Mrs. Pearl. Mary hesitates before opening the letter, savoring a moment free from her husband’s demands before wondering what the tone of the letter will be: “There is no knowing what people will do when they are about to die, Mrs. Pearl told herself, and she tucked the envelope under her arm and hurried home” (18). This foreshadowing is tacked on to a moment in which Mary allows herself to dream that her husband wrote her a love letter instead simply leaving her a list of his usual admonishings. He had been diagnosed with cancer and given one to six months to live, and he had been growing noticeably weaker daily as he waited in the hospital for death. She contemplates disregarding the letter as she lights a cigarette, something that she can only do now that William is out of the house. She thinks about how she disliked his watchful and disapproving eyes, but then her sense of duty overwhelms her and she opens the letter.
Her husband’s voice takes over the narrative at this point. William mentions that he would like to thank her for being a “satisfactory wife” and that he intends to if he has time later. Then he lapses into a brief retrospective before he declares:
You are my wife and you have a right to know these things. In fact you must know them. During the past few days I have tried very hard to speak with you about Landy, but you have steadfastly refused to give me a hearing. This, as I have already told you, is a very foolish attitude to take, and I find it not entirely an unselfish one either. It stems mostly from ignorance, and I am absolutely convinced that if only you were made aware of all the facts, you would immediately change your view. (20)
Landy, as it turns out, is a doctor with whom William has made a peculiar bargain. The rest of the letter lays out how Landy approached William with a proposal; he wants to remove the dying man’s brain after death, revive it by attaching it to an artificial heart, and keep the brain—as well as one of William’s eyes—in a tank. Initially William reacted strongly against the experiment; however, Landy remarks that the brain could survive on its own for 200-300 years once preserved and hooked up to the artificial heart. William decides that he likes the idea and gives Landy permission to extract his brain once he has died. This he consents to with neither his wife’s knowledge nor her approval, as she was too repulsed by the idea to even consider the experiment a possibility. William signs the letter with a guilt-inducing “Your faithful husband” before adding a post-script of interdictions: “Do not drink cocktails. Do not waste money. Do not smoke cigarettes. Do not eat pastry…” (42). Mrs. Pearl has already broken all of these previously enforced rules. She does not want to call Landy, as her husband commands in his letter, but she does and consequently arranges to visit her husband’s brain and eye in the doctor’s lab.
When confronted with her husband’s new form, Mary becomes very concerned for his well-being. She insists that Landy provide William’s favorite newspaper for him to read, and she rebukes the doctor for referring to the brain as “it” rather than “him.” Regarding her husband’s helpless state, Mary suddenly becomes very affectionate and possessive. She does smoke a cigarette deliberately for William to see and she informs him that she’s in charge now, but she does none of this spitefully. She seems sincerely concerned with making sure he is taken care of, and she bristles when Landy explains that the brain is an experiment and so cannot be relocated to the Pearl household. The story closes with Mary reminding the doctor that she has more right to her husband than he does before she turns to coo at her husband about how she is looking forward to getting him home.
The number of power struggles carefully folded into this short story is astounding. Mary, when interacting indirectly with William through the letter, struggles to break her old habitual deference to his wishes. The relationship between William and Mary illustrates marital conflict similar to that Dahl himself experienced. Meanwhile, Landy represents an authority figure and also a man of scientific knowledge. Both Pearls struggle with Landy, though for different reasons. Internally, William struggles with vanity and a desire to prolong his life. Through the story Dahl questions the abuse of power by scientists; external to the story, Dahl discusses the power of experience to influence decision-making. He also demonstrates his prowess as a businessman—proving almost as manipulative as Landy—in catering to his audience and empowering them. His accomplice in this is the brilliant illustrator Quentin Blake, who did not illustrate Dahl’s works until 1975 but whose significance in shaping all Dahl’s works after that date must be acknowledged.
Initially, Mary’s reaction to being handed the letter from William allows the reader insight into their married life. She feels the thickness of the envelope and guesses that he has written her a formal farewell letter, but she then imagines it as a list of careful commands. Her imagining reveals William to have been a dominating individual. She mentions how she used to smoke behind his back and hide money so that she would have funds for when he withheld her allowance. This image of William as an over-controlling husband is reinforced when she glances at his old chair and remembers how he used to watch her constantly. She fixates on the memory of his eyes and the “little black dots of fury” that would appear in them when he was upset by her behavior: “And even now, after a week alone in the house, she sometimes had an uneasy feeling that they were still there, following her around, staring at her from doorways, from empty chairs, through a window at night” (20). Her awareness of his constant surveillance and subsequent disapproval has been so habitually heightened that its weight lingers even once the man himself can no longer reproach her. His language in the letter implies that his authority is derived from a more complete understanding of the world than she possesses. He belittles her; he disregards her wishes by agreeing to the experiment and informing her that Landy will be expecting her visit.
Now in response to the overall collection of stories, a researcher wrote, “In the… stories [in Kiss, Kiss] a member of one sex is usually trying to control a member of the opposite sex” (West, 45). Though this is only one of the conflicts that play out in “William and Mary,” the sex-based struggle between spouses is commonly mentioned in connection to both Dahl’s writings and to his personal life. After interviewing both Dahl and his actress wife Patricia Neal, one journalist wrote, “The Dahls seem totally devoted to each other, but from the very first there’s been a struggle over who’s boss…” (Mills, N4).[3] Dysfunctional marriages feature in many of Dahl’s stories, from adult pieces such as “Royal Jelly” and “The Great Switcheroo” to children’s books such as The Twits and Matilda. The Pearls are neither quarrelsome adulterers nor conspiring child-abusers, but their marriage seems akin to a dictatorship. The frustration of living for years in this environment is evident as Mary finishes William’s letter: “Her little mouth was pursed up tight and there was a whiteness around her nostrils. But really! You would think a widow was entitled to a bit of peace after all these years” (42).[4] Is the widow entitled to her bit of peace? Initially she sounds relieved that William is dead. Before reading the letter, she has resumed openly smoking in the house and she has purchased a large television to set on top of his old work desk. William disapproved of both smoking and television. Despite these initial declarations of rebellion, Mary remains dutiful in most ways. Her internal struggle develops from ‘desire versus habit’ to ‘independence versus power.’ William’s influence on her life is reasserted with the letter, which she concedes to read out of a sense of duty to her dead husband. After the letter, she contemplates neglecting Landy just as she contemplated ignoring the letter: “She hesitated, fighting hard now against that old ingrained sense of duty that she didn’t quite yet dare to shake off” (44). Again, she feels obligated to see to her husband’s last wishes. Dahl wrote about struggles between same-gendered opponents as frequently as he wrote about those between different-gendered opponents. Empowered, vengeful Mary struggles with faithful, subordinate Mary. It takes Landy challenging her right to care for with her husband to help her establish her position. Mary realizes that she wants control more than revenge. To continue identifying as a ‘widow’ and free woman involves surrendering William to Landy, and this is something she decides she will not do.
Another set of power struggles involve Landy and his claim of authority. When dealing with Mary, Landy refers to her by her proper name and plays the role of the concerned doctor. He inquires about her emotional state, but when she insists on bringing William home, Landy attempts to assume the authority that he presumes his education and career afford him. He insists on referring to what remains of William as “it” and as his “experiment.” Mary, however, demands that the floating brain be recognized as her husband. This means that she is not a widow, that Landy should be using the pronoun “he,” that she has the right to provoke and return William’s disapproving glare, and that she can take her husband home where she can make sure he has the newspaper he likes. Landy’s assumed power and authority cannot hold up to Mary’s. She has a right, by virtue of her faithfulness and frequently uncomfortable submission to William over the years, to control of him, and she is not about to relinquish her hold now that she’s finally in a position of power.[5]
Landy struggles with both of the Pearls, but he takes a different position in his interactions with each. While attempting to persuade William to take part in his experiment, Landy addresses him by his first name. He insists even when William protests, yet he frames the discussion as one between two colleagues. He knows that William self-identifies as a philosopher, and he uses this vanity to push his cause. He insists, “You’d be able to reflect upon the ways of the world with a detachment and a serenity that no man had ever attained before. And who knows what might not happen then! Great thoughts and ideas that could revolutionize our way of life! Try to imagine, if you can, the degree of concentration that you’d be able to achieve!” (38). He flatters William while building intimacy by claiming to also be a philosopher. It works, largely because Landy knows how to manipulate William.
Dahl’s constant challenging of authority figures led to the accusation that he was an anarchist; however, one could say that he had good reason to be skeptical. Dahl wrote both at the beginning and end of his career about his time spent with the British RAF during World War II. Before he even made it into combat, he incurred serious injuries as the result of a plane crash; he had been given incorrect directions to a base, run out of fuel while en route, and crash-landed in the rocky desert. His plane caught fire, but Dahl escaped—temporarily blinded and with serious head injuries—to spend several months in a hospital recovering. According to researcher Mark West, “This period was a very trying one for Dahl. The pain and the loneliness ate at him, as did the meaninglessness of the whole episode. He found it difficult to accept the fact that he had nearly lost his life simply because a commanding officer had given careless instructions” (8). When Dahl did return to combat, he was sent to join in a disastrous campaign in Greece. The odds were so poor that “the consensus among the pilots was that they were being sacrificed so that the propaganda machine could argue that the gallant RAF ‘fought to the last pilot and the last plane’” (Fisher, 26). Dahl’s military experiences involved repeatedly watching skilled pilots being killed due to incompetent leadership. Though the authorities were no longer government officials or laws once Dahl switched to the literary scene, he still ran into problems with those in positions of power. In an early case of this, his first story was submitted by his friend C.S. Forester for publication. As things turned out, “The editors of the Post accepted it, but they made one significant change before publishing it. Instead of using Dahl’s title, “A Piece of Cake,” they called it “Shot Down over Libya,” thus beginning an inaccuracy that followed Dahl for many years” (West, 11). Dahl corrected the title when he rereleased the story, asserting his right as the author to insist on naming his own stories. When one considers that he agonized over word selection in composing his stories, his rejection of the superimposed title is not at all surprising. When one considers his experiences with authority figures, it is even less surprising that he criticized arbitrary authority derived from status or wealth rather than ability.
Next one might notice that the foible which finally convinces William to take part in the experiment is vanity. He is not the only one of Dahl’s characters to find himself in a compromising position as a result of this weakness. In “The Visitor,” a story from the collection Switch Bitch featuring the lascivious Uncle Oswald, an overly exaggerated sense of self worth leads to Oswald’s disturbing and ironic demise. His vanity makes him careless: “As is often the case with Dahl’s characters, arrogance contributes to Oswald’s downfall…His condescending attitude toward women and his determination to have sex with whomever he chooses blind him to the possibility that he might simply be a pawn in somebody else’s game” (West, 51). Though William’s arrogance does not lead him to womanizing as Oswald’s does, it still gets him into trouble. His initial doubts about the experiment center around his desire to avoid losing control of his body and, subsequently, the power that comes with the ability to initiate motion. He worries about the helplessness that will come with the loss of his voice and his limbs, but then he reconsiders:
Was there not, after all, I asked myself, something a bit comforting in the thought that my brain might not necessarily have to die and disappear in a few weeks’ time? There was indeed. I am rather proud of my brain. It is a sensitive, lucid, and uberous organ. It contains a prodigious store of information, and it is still capable of producing imaginative and original theories. As brains go, it is a damn good one, though I say it myself. (40)
William has invested a lifetime in studying and nurturing his brain. He views the loss of such knowledge to death as a tragedy, and he seriously becomes interested in the experiment when Landy mentions that the brain would be able to survive for 200 or 300 years on its own. At first glance, it seems as if William’s internal struggle involved weighing the power to express himself against the desire to avoid death. In choosing to avoid death, however, William chooses a different kind of power: he chooses to outwit nature and preserve his thoughts long enough for them to become valuable as a reference for future scholars… which is the closest thing to immortality attainable in his world.
From a scientific perspective, the linguistic conflict between Landy and Mary focuses on whether post-experiment William is still technically a living person. Working with a basic qualitative biological definition of life as that which is possessed of the potential to metabolize, reproduce, move, and grow, the question of William’s state cannot be resolved. “It” implies that the doctor has control over this experiment; “he” implies that this detached brain has a gender and a will. While post-experiment William does not metabolize, he does not seem to have a need for such processes. Perhaps the brain cannot move of its own will, but apparently it can still think which requires producing electric charges for various synapses to receive. While it is doubtful that Dahl meant to explore social justice questions in this story, this question is a sticking point in the story.[6] Though Mary’s last line assumes that she wins the argument, Dahl has designed a conflict that cannot be definitively resolved. The nature of the experiment puts man in competition with nature and asks how much science has a right to interfere.
In the story, Landy turns William into an experiment through science. In writing such a circumstance, Dahl creates a conflict that cannot be resolved using deductive reasoning. True, he has the power to invent a non-metabolizing organism because he is writing a fiction piece. However, his mastery of language and his taste for the most realistic of the absurd allow him to draw readers into his created world. Many of Dahl’s other stories feature scientists who seek to use their knowledge to manipulate others. “Bitch” from Switch Bitch centers around a perfume that a chemist creates to bring out the suppressed animal in one who smells it, making her much more willing to have sex with the wearer. In another story, “Royal Jelly” from Kiss, Kiss, a mad beekeeper uses a substance called royal jelly to combat nature on two occasions. In the first case, he begins taking it to increase his potency so that he and his wife can finally conceive. In the second case, he gives the jelly to their listless infant and she immediately begins to put on weight. Science gives him the power to change his circumstances—however the conclusion of the story gives one pause and invites one to question how much nature should be tampered with. In real life, Dahl was fascinated by the ways science could alter the quality and length of life a person naturally experienced. While Dahl created characters whose experiments had horrific results and he was extremely against the development of atomic weapons, he was also a great supporter of science when it was used to enhance life instead of to control or destroy it. When his son Theo needed a shunt, Dahl quickly became frustrated with the poor quality of the device.[7] Taking matters into his own hands, the author enlisted the help of Stanley Wade and Kenneth Till for a new project; together they developed the streamlined Dahl-Wade-Till Valve which then went into standard use around the world (West, 16).
Unfortunately, Dahl knew well that science did not hold all the answers. When his daughter Olivia died of a measles complication, he was reportedly depressed until the birth of his next daughter. From this and other experiences, he intimately understood the long-term impact that an experience could have on a person’s thought processes. This idea is not explored in “William and Mary,” but another story from the collection called “Georgy Porgy” involves a clergyman who recoils from women due to a traumatic memory from his youth. The experience so affects his thinking that he eventually has a breakdown and needs to be institutionalized. Alternatively, the dangers of growing up without any exposure to social experiences are bloodily illustrated in the short story “Pig” which was also published in Kiss, Kiss. Unlike Mary, the boy in “Pig” does not know when to challenge an authority figure or disobey a command. For Dahl personally, past experiences provided subject matter for his stories. While it might be a stretch to suggest a connection between Landy leaving William one eye for reading and procuring knowledge and the Norse god Odin trading one eye for two ravens who will give him knowledge, the influence of the Norse myths Dahl read in his childhood stand out in other short stories of his. One of these is “They Shall Not Grow Old,” which directly parallels the story of Valhalla on several accounts (West, 29).[8]
Also external to the story, Dahl presents the story in a way that will appeal to the reader. He empowers the readers by acknowledging their tastes. Dahl is a fantastic businessman; he writes in “Pearson’s Pleasure”—also in Kiss, Kiss—about presenting oneself according to the desires of the intended audience. The main character of the story is a shifty antique furniture salesman. Dahl describes:
… [Mr. Cyril Boggis] was a talented salesman, and when buying or selling a piece he could slide smoothly into whichever mood suited the client best. He could become grave and charming for the aged, obsequious for the rich, sober for the godly, masterful for the weak, mischievous for the widow, arch and saucy for the spinster. (76)
Though the perceived needs that Boggis caters to are obviously satiric, a good businessperson also knows how to figure out and then adapt to meet the needs of those he or she intends to sell to. Dahl always tailors the pieces to his intended audience. Giving insight on Dahl’s view of children as well as his perception of their needs, William Honan reports, “The key to his success, he frequently said, was to conspire with children against adults…The adult is the enemy of the child because of the awful process of civilizing this thing that when it is born is an animal with no manners, no moral sense at all” (26). Of course, Kiss, Kiss is not at all a children’s book. However, the difference between writing for adults and writing for children is frequently exaggerated, though not completely contrived. In an interview included at the end of The Twits, Dahl says, ““When you’re writing a book… it is no good having people who are ordinary, because they are not going to interest your readers at all. Every writer in the world has to use characters that have something interesting about them” (83). Accordingly, his characters are all exaggerated and curiously affected in their manners. Dahl writes realistic absurd fictions. His work for adults is surrealist in content and utilitarian in form. One critic wrote, “To my mind Dahl’s flatly authoritative statements have a universal sweep and psychological penetration…with the added bonus of actually being true…” (Self, 2). Another, commenting on his completely unreal plot twists and their appeal to adults as well as children, remarked, “Has not experience taught us that adults are more susceptible to make-believe than children, and far more skilled at creating it?” (Early, 96). Dahl is a master of make-believe, and his books allow adult readers a voyeuristic glimpse into his fantastically twisted mind.
When Dahl decided to focus completely on children’s books, finding the illustrator was the last challenge to perfecting his magic. Though Quentin Blake was not always Dahl’s illustrator (and Kiss, Kiss has no illustrations), his drawings compliment earlier books and later become as critical to the stories as Dahl’s texts. Blake’s illustrations act as scaffolding to guide the reader in visualizing the characters and action that Dahl conjured. In this way, the reader is permitted to maintain a certain amount of autonomy while Dahl remains the master of the experience. As friend David Walliams reflected, “…He understood that children respond to stories where they are empowered” (2). He refers in the interview to the children protagonists of Dahl’s stories; however, this understanding carries over to the direct empowerment of Dahl’s child readers when he builds his stories around Blake’s piecewise illustrations. Blake implies the tangles of Mr. Twit’s beard as he scowls and the scrawniness of Charlie Bucket as he waves at the reader. At the same time, his relaxed style feels familiar to the reader, who becomes more willing to follow Blake’s guidance. His power is akin to that of a translator; knowing that Dahl cannot be directly translated, he sketches idiomatic expressions with connotations that the reader understands and qualitative definitions that leave plenty to the imagination. The two worked together so well that the reviewer Will Self go so far as to write of “Dahl-world” as a place relative to Blake’s illustrations instead of the other way around: “As in Blake’s drawings, there are big white spaces in Dahl-world where any realistic detailing might well be shaded in by a lesser writer; and again, in common with Blake’s vision, Dahl-world is at once lurid and curiously ill-defined…” (2).
If Self’s analysis of Dahl-world holds true, the power struggles with the Dahl-worlds can also be described as “lurid and curiously ill-defined” (2). Power is central to all of Dahl’s stories; characters vie for control over each other, themselves, and their situations. Power also influences Dahl’s crafting of each story’s presentation. External to the plot, the author is sharing his experiences indirectly with the readers, molding stories to suit the needs and wants of specific audiences, and collaborating with an illustrator who can enhance his work. Dahl mastered the ability to empower his readers while never losing control of his creation. In “William and Mary,” the variety of power struggles that come into play are representative of those found throughout the body of Dahl’s work. Whether Dahl hated women, Jews, blacks, politicians, or any other specific group cannot be determined from reading his work; he seems to subjugate everyone equally in turn. Everyone, that is, except for himself.
Works Cited
Dahl, Roald. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. New York: Puffin Books, 2004. Print.
“—.” Going Solo. New York: Farrar Straus Giroux, 1986. Print.
“—.” Kiss, Kiss. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1979. Print.
“—.” Switch Bitch. London: Penguin Books, 1974. Print.
Dahl, Roald, and Quentin Blake. The Twits. New York: A.A. Knopf, 2002. Print.
Early, Gerald. “On Literature & Childhood.” Daedalus 133, 1 (Winter 2004): 95-98. ProQuest. Web. 24 Mar 2010.
Fisher, Trevor. “Roald Dahl and the Lost Campaign.” Historian 95 (Autumn 2007): 22-27. ProQuest. Web. 23 Mar 2010.
Hare, John B. "Skáldskaparmal." Internet Sacred Text Archive Home. 6 Apr. 2009. Web. 07 Apr. 2010.
Honan, William. “Roald Dahl, Writer, 74, Is Dead; Best Sellers Enchanted Children.” New York Times 24 Nov 1990: 26. Proquest Historical Newspapers. Web. 24 Mar 2010.
Kakutani, Michiko. “The Facts Behind A Fantasist’s Unsettling Stories.” New York Times 26 Apr 1994: C21. ProQuest Historical Newspapers. Web. 23 Mar 2010.
Mills, Nancy. “Roald Dahl Opts For The Children’s Hour.” Los Angeles Times 22 Mar 1981: N4. ProQuest Historical Newspapers. Web. 23 Mar 2010.
"Roald Dahl South Bank Show 1." Online Video Clip. South Bank Show. 18 Oct 2007. YouTube. 24 March 2010.
Self, Will. “Review: Tails of the Unexpected: Roald Dahl’s Children’s Books Are Full of Barely Submerged Misogyny, Lust and Violence. And Will Self Adores Them. The New Film Version of Fantastic Mr. Fox Is An Ideal Introduction To This Fabulous, Cruel World.” The Guardian 17 Oct 2009: 2. ProQuest. Web. 23 Mar 2010.
Walliams, David. “Roald and Me.” The Independent 4 Nov 2009: 14. ProQuest. Web. 24 Mar 2010.
West, Mark I. Roald Dahl. New York: Twayne, 1992. Print.
Works Referenced
Armour, Richard. “Carnal Comedy of Roald Dahl.” Los Angeles Times 13 Oct 1974: P76. ProQuest Historical Newspapers. Web. 23 Mar 2010.
Dahl, Roald. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. New York: Puffin Books, 2004. Print.
“—.” Going Solo. New York: Farrar Straus Giroux, 1986. Print.
“—.” Kiss, Kiss. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1979. Print.
“—.” Switch Bitch. London: Penguin Books, 1974. Print.
“—.” The Best of Roald Dahl. New York: Vintage, 1990. Print.
“—.” The Enormous Crocodile. New York, N.Y., USA: Puffin, 1993. Print.
“—.” "The Great Switcheroo." Playboy Apr. 1974: 92+. Print.
“—.” Vile Verses. New York: Viking, 2005. Print.
Dahl, Roald, and Quentin Blake. Esio Trot. New York, N.Y., U.S.A.: Viking, 1990. Print.
“—.” Fantastic Mr Fox. New York: Puffin, 2007. Print.
“—.” The Magic Finger. London, England: Viking, 1995. Print.
“—.” The Twits. New York: A.A. Knopf, 2002. Print.
Early, Gerald. “On Literature & Childhood.” Daedalus 133, 1 (Winter 2004): 95-98. ProQuest. Web. 24 Mar 2010.
Fisher, Trevor. “Roald Dahl and the Lost Campaign.” Historian 95 (Autumn 2007): 22-27. ProQuest. Web. 23 Mar 2010.
Hare, John B. "Skáldskaparmal." Internet Sacred Text Archive Home. 6 Apr. 2009. Web. 07 Apr. 2010.
Henein, Eglal. “Male and Female Ugliness Through the Ages.” Marvels & Tales: III, 1. 45-55.
Honan, William. “Roald Dahl, Writer, 74, Is Dead; Best Sellers Enchanted Children.” New York Times 24 Nov 1990: 26. Proquest Historical Newspapers. Web. 24 Mar 2010.
Kakutani, Michiko. “The Facts Behind A Fantasist’s Unsettling Stories.” New York Times 26 Apr 1994: C21. ProQuest Historical Newspapers. Web. 23 Mar 2010.
Lindow, John. Norse Mythology: A Guide to Gods, Heroes, Rituals and Beliefs. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001. Print
Mills, Nancy. “Roald Dahl Opts For The Children’s Hour.” Los Angeles Times 22 Mar 1981: N4. ProQuest Historical Newspapers. Web. 23 Mar 2010.
Reusch, Jutta. "The Crossover Novel. Contemporary Children's Fiction and Its Adult
Readership." Bookbird 48 (1 2010): 69-70. ProQuest. Web. 24 Mar 2010.
"Roald Dahl South Bank Show 1." Online Video Clip. South Bank Show. 18 Oct 2007. YouTube. 24 March 2010.
Roberts, Allison. “The Odd Couple; David Walliams Has Teamed Up Again With Illustrator Quentin Blake For His New Book. So What’s It Like Working With His Childhood Hero And How Is Matt Lucas Coping With Writing Their New TV Show After His Recent Tragedy?” Evening Standard 12 Nov 2009: 20. ProQuest. Web. 24 Mar 2010.
Self, Will. “Review: Tails of the Unexpected: Roald Dahl’s Children’s Books Are Full of Barely Submerged Misogyny, Lust and Violence. And Will Self Adores Them. The New Film Version of Fantastic Mr. Fox Is An Ideal Introduction To This Fabulous, Cruel World.” The Guardian 17 Oct 2009: 2. ProQuest. Web. 23 Mar 2010.
Treglown, Jeremy. Roald Dahl: a Biography. New York: Farrar, Straus, Giroux, 1994. Print.
Walliams, David. “Roald and Me.” The Independent 4 Nov 2009: 14. ProQuest. Web. 24 Mar 2010.
West, Mark I. Roald Dahl. New York: Twayne, 1992. Print.
Whetstone, David. “Double Act, Single Vision; Roald Dahl’s Stories Are Almost Unimaginable Now without Quentin Blake’s Illustrations. David Whetstone Talked To Him About This Fruitful Partnership.” Journal 14 Jul 2007: 46. ProQuest. Web. 23 Mar 2010.
[1] The interview was published in 1981. Boy was released in 1984 and its sequel, Flying Solo, in 1986.
[2] Hobbes’ philosophy—at a basic level—is frequently summarized as ascribing all of humankind’s decisions to two drives: desire for power and fear of death. Curiously, in the introduction to the Leviathan he defines fear as “aversion, with opinion of hurt from the object.” Implicitly, fear stems from the desire to avoid pain. As such, focusing on the desire for power as the stronger drive can be justified with the consideration that fear results from preexisting desire. The conclusion that Dahl’s writings do not completely fit with Hobbes’ philosophy stems in part from Hobbes’ rejection of the metaphor, a linguistic device Dahl uses masterfully in many of his works.
[3] This interview took place after Neal’s debilitating stroke in 1965, but before the couple’s divorce in 1983. After the divorce Dahl was quickly remarried—scandalously—to one of Neal’s close friends, Felicity Crosland.
[4] Note that she refers to herself as a widow here. This is before she ‘meets’ William in his new form, and the significance of this language will be discussed shortly.
[5] Mary is just one of many female characters empowered in Dahl’s stories. While he may or may not have been a womanizer, it appears from his writings that Dahl was not as anti-feminist as some have suggested. One anecdote that illustrates this particularly well is from Dahl’s time in the military hospital, as recorded in Flying Solo. He says, “When the orderly came level with the woman, he suddenly whipped away the cloth from the tray and pushed the tray towards the woman’s face. On the tray there lay the entire, quite naked amputated leg of a soldier. I saw the poor woman reel backwards. I saw the foul orderly roar with laughter and replace the cloth and walk on. I saw the woman stagger to the window-sill and lean forward with her head in her hands, then she pulled herself together and went on her way. I have never forgotten that little illustration of man’s repulsive behavior towards woman” (120).
[6] The implications of deeming a thinking brain to be less-than-human based off the fact that it lacks a controllable body are serious in the world of medicinal ethics. Similarly, declaring that post-experiment William with his natural brain, natural eye, and an artificial heart sustained by internal mechanics rather than metabolically derived energy is human and male would perhaps require adaptations to the textbook definition of life. Who has the power to take someone else’s humanity?
[7] A shunt is used to drain excess fluid from the area of its placement. In Theo’s case, it drained fluid that had been putting pressure on the brain.
[8] Interestingly, a staged interview for the show South Bank (available in multiple places online) records Dahl explaining that witches have blue saliva that is just like ink. In Norse mythology, the mixing of the gods’ saliva created Kvasir whose blood mixed with honey to become the mead of poetry. Whether there is a connection between the tales in uncertain.
