Two distinguished highflyers had separately been to see Dr. Acton Croke. Both were suffering from a common ailment - they had all grown too competent and comfortable and their doctor had given them both the same diagnosis and suggested treatment:
“You’ve got to rediscover the comforts of your life by
losing them for a little…
You need to be made to struggle for your life again.”
The good doctor’s suggestions, as a friend and not a medical
man, included dropping into another world, a harder one, for a month or two;
stealing a horse in some part of the world where that crime was punishable by
hanging, or to induce the newspapers to accuse them of something shady that
would require a great effort to clear up.
Sir Edward Leithen, a barrister‘who had left forty
behind him but was on the pleasant side of fifty,’ and John
Palliser-Yeates, 45 years, an eminent banker known for his youthful
athleticism, discovered their common complaint when they happened to dine at
the same club that evening.
Lord Charles Lamancha, a cabinet minister in his early forties, was also
there with a young friend, Archie Roylance, who was endeavouring to cheer him
up. The three older men were close friends but were surprised to find they all
suffered from the same ennui.
Archie Roylance stared blankly from one to the other, as
if some new thing had broken in upon his simple philosophy of life.
“You fellows beat me,” he cried. “Here you are, every one of you a swell of
sorts, with everything to make you cheerful, and you’re grousin’ like a labour
battalion! You should be jolly well ashamed of yourselves.”
Archie’s advice was to go and do some hard exercise like
sweating ten hours a day on a steep hill but he had a moment of illumination
when the men responded that it would do no good. He recounted the story of Jim
Tarras, a poacher on a grand scale, and the three men decided to take a leaf
from that man’s book; to do something ‘devilish difficult,
devilish pleasant, and calculated to make a man long for a dull life.’
Archie was staying at a lonely, isolated house in the Scottish Highlands and
the three friends plotted to go there in secret and join him. Their plan was to
inform three Scottish estates in writing that they would be poaching on their
properties during a given time and would take two stags and a salmon from each
estate.
‘The animal, of course, remains your property and will be
duly delivered to you. It is a condition that it must be removed wholly outside
your bounds. In the event of the undersigned failing to achieve his purpose he
will pay as forfeit one hundred pounds, and if successful fifty pounds to any
charity you may appoint.’
The letters were sent from London and signed with the
nom de guerre, ‘John Macnab.’ It was imperative that whether they failed or
succeeded, the trio must not be caught, but there were complications from the
very start.
One of my favourite characters in this book is Sir Archie Roylance, who
having implicated himself with ‘Macnab,’ is totally smitten by one of the
Scottish laird’s daughters.
He was in the miserable
position of having a leg in both camps, of having unhappily received the
confidences of both sides, and whatever he did he must make a mess of it.
At the back of his head he
had that fear of women as something mysterious and unintelligible which belongs
to a motherless and sisterless childhood, and a youth spent almost wholly in
the company of men. He had immense compassion for a s*x which seemed to him to
have a hard patch to hoe in the world, and this pitifulness had always kept him
from any conduct which might harm a woman. His numerous fancies had been light
and transient like thistledown, and his heart had been wholly unscathed. Fear
that he might stumble into marriage had made him as shy as a woodcock—a fear
not without grounds, for a friend had once proposed to write a book called
Lives of the Hunted, with a chapter on Archie.
John Macnab has been called ‘the
sunniest of Buchan’s fictions’ and is his second most famous novel.
It mixes comedy, adventure and friendship with an underlying attitude that life is what you make it.
Although more light-hearted than most of Buchan’s other novels, it is a great
adventure story with a delightful romantic element.
2 comments:
How happy to read you again and your “do the right thing” motto. I also agree with the sentiment “life is what you make it.”
Hi Silvia! Thank you. :)
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