S1, Bonus 1 - Guest of the Nation

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(00:25):
This is Episode 20 of Ed FalcoOn The Air, and in this episode,
I'll be reading Frank O'Connor'sThe Guests of the Nation and
talking a bit about the craft ofwriting.
But before that, a little bit ofbusiness.
I started this podcast afterretiring from a long career

(00:48):
teaching creative writing atVirginia Tech.
I had exactly zero previousexperience with podcasting and
I've been finding my way alongepisode by episode ever since.
Now, a few months into theproject, I figured out a shape
for the future that makes senseto me.
I'll be dividing future podcastsinto episodes and seasons.

(01:12):
Each season will have 25episodes and feature a new
novel.
Season 1, which we're nowwrapping up, featured The
Strangers.
The plan, for now at least, isIt's for season two to feature a
Clyde Sine novel titled 2084.
That novel, which I recentlycompleted, imagines what our

(01:32):
world might look like a centurybeyond George Orwell's imagining
in his novel 1984.
There'll be a break ofindeterminate time.
Between seasons one and two, butI'm hoping to have season two
ready to go by the fall of 2025.
We have five more episodes to gobefore the end of this season.

(01:53):
In the remaining five episodes,which we'll post once a week on
Mondays, I plan to answer a fewquestions I've received about
The Strangers, Talk aboutwriting in general, and read a
few short works by otherwriters.
In today's episode, I plan toread Frank O'Connor's short
story, The Guests of the Nation.

(02:14):
I'll explain why that story in abit.
But for now, I want to begin byanswering what is far and away
the most common question I'vegotten in response to The
Strangers.
And it is, in a number ofvariations, How did you get the
idea for The Strangers?
And that question is a variationof one I've heard again and

(02:36):
again over my writing life, bothas a teacher of creative writing
and as a writer giving readingsof my own work.
It's a question every writer hasheard, and it's essentially
Where do your ideas come from?
The question is understandable.
I imagine new writers staring atcomputer screens or blank sheets
of paper and struggling tofigure out what to write.

(02:59):
On one level, the question iseasy to answer.
The ideas of the stories, mineand everyone else's, come from
the writers of the stories.
From their experiences,thoughts, dreams, concerns,
obsessions, fears, anxieties,passions, etc.
Unfortunately, That's a prettyuseless answer, since it tells

(03:23):
the struggling writer almostnothing about how to proceed
with the actual writing of astory, which I believe is at the
heart of their question.
In The Strangers, Severn wakesup one night to find his wife
dead beside him in bed.
That's the starting place.
Everything that follows in thenovel results from me asking,

(03:45):
what's going on, and what doesSevern do?
And trying to answer thatquestion honestly and believably
within the context of the story.
For the rest of the novel, whathappens because of what the
characters do in reaction to aproblem, conflict, or situation,
leads me from event to event.

(04:07):
Until I come to a resolution ofthe problem, conflict, or
situation.
Of course, what happens to acharacter, and what they do, is
also connected to the underlyingideas the story is exploring,
or, here we go, the theme of astory.
But for me, as a writer, and formost writers I know, those ideas

(04:30):
or themes evolve from thechoices the characters make in
response to a problem.
And, here's the important thing.
I don't know beforehand what mycharacters are going to do.
I don't know how they're goingto respond.
If I'm doing a good job, mycharacters take on a life of
their own.

(04:51):
And they can and do make choicesthat surprise me.
This is three quarters of theimportance of writing to me.
Because exploring characters andevents honestly becomes a way of
exploring what I believe.
And surprises do happen.
Ultimately, what I think I'mwriting about in The Strangers

(05:12):
is an exploration of humankind'sviolent nature.
And maybe coming to theconclusion that our aggressively
violent character is essentialto what makes us human.
That is not where I started thenovel, but it's where the novel
seems to have arrived by theend.
I absolutely like theconflicted, aggressive,

(05:33):
complicated humans of the novelmuch more than I like the
peaceful, even tempered stewardsof Earth's environment, the
strangers.
So, let's say the idea of thisnovel is that the violence in
human nature makes us thefascinating complex species that
we are, and that the passivityof the strangers makes them dull

(05:55):
and uninteresting, and may insome way be connected to the
horrendous act of saving aplanet by eliminating the
indigenous species that isdestroying it, and what seems to
me the insane act of believingyou're saving the indigenous
species by replacing it with abetter copy.

(06:16):
For me, To answer the originalquestion, where did the idea for
The Strangers come from, I haveto go back to the characters,
and the things that happen tothem, and the way they react to
those things.
So where did the idea for TheStrangers come from, if it's
that maybe being savage killersis a necessary part of who we

(06:37):
are as a species?
It came from following theresponses of my characters in a
situation that interests me,because of the ideas it may wind
up exploring.
I believe.
In the best writing, that'salways where the writer's ideas
come from.
They come from and in the act ofwriting.

(07:01):
Okay, enough talk about craft.
I'll finish up today's episodeby reading Frank O'Connor's
great short story, The Guests ofthe Nation.
If you can spare another 25minutes, I urge you to stick
with me while I read it for you.
To my mind, It's a perfectexample of how a simple,
dramatic plot can lead to astory with a wonderfully complex

(07:24):
and moving ending.
It won't hurt to give you thebasics of the plot before I
begin.
The story is set during theIrish War of Independence from
Great Britain.
We begin the story beingintroduced to four characters,
two British Army privates,Hawkins and Belcher, who are
being held as hostages by theIrish Republican Army, and two

(07:48):
of their captors.
Bonaparte and Noble, two IRAsoldiers.
In the course of a few pages,O'Connor shows us that the four
of them have become friends inthe months they've been spending
together in a remote cabin.
Then, early in the story, welearn that the British have

(08:08):
executed IRA soldiers they wereholding, and as a consequence,
Bonaparte and Noble are orderedto execute their British
hostages, Hawkins and Belcher.
Once that order is given, onceBonaparte and Noble are ordered
to execute two men with whomthey have become friends, the

(08:28):
story is hard to put down.
The reader wants to know whatwill happen, and ultimately,
what the meaning is.

(08:50):
Frank O'Connor's Guests of theNation One.
At dusk, the big Englishman,Belcher, would shift his long
legs out of the ashes and say,Well, chums, what about it?
And nobler me would say, Allright, chum.
For we had picked up some oftheir curious expressions.

(09:13):
And the little Englishman,Hawkins, would light the lamp
and bring out the cards.
Sometimes, Jeremiah Donovanwould come up and supervise the
game and get excited overHawkins cards, which he always
played badly, and shout at himas if he were one of our own.
Aye, you devil, why didn't youplay the tray?
But ordinarily, Jeremiah was asober and contented poor devil,

(09:37):
like the big Englishman Belcher,and was looked up to only
because he was a fair hand atdocuments, though he was slow
enough even with them.
He wore a small cloth hat andbig gaiters over his long pants,
and you seldom saw him with hishands out of his pockets.
He reddened when you talked tohim.

(09:57):
Tilting from one toe to heel andback and looking down all the
time at his big farmer's feet.
Noble and me used to make fun ofhis broad accent because we were
from the town.
I couldn't, at that time, seethe point of me and Noble
guarding Belcher and Hawkins atall, for it was my belief that
you could have planted that peardown anywhere from here to

(10:20):
Claregoway and they would havetaken root there like a native
weed.
I never, in my short experience,seen two men to take to the
country as they did.
They were handed on to us by the2nd Battalion when the search
for them became too hot, andNoble and myself, being young,
took over with a natural feelingof responsibility.

(10:43):
But Hawkins made us look likefools when he shouted that he
knew the country better than wedid.
You're the bloke they callBonaparte.
Mary Bridge O'Connell told me toask you what you'd done with a
pair of her brother's socks youborrowed, for it seemed, as they
explained it, that the secondused to have little evenings and

(11:03):
some of the girls in theneighborhood turned in, and
seeing that they were suchdecent chaps, Our fellows
couldn't leave the twoEnglishmen out of them.
Hawkins learned to dance theWalls of Limerick, the Siege of
Innes, and the Waves of Torrey,as well as any of them.
Though, naturally, we couldn'treturn the compliment, because
our lads at that time did notdance foreign dances on

(11:25):
principle.
So whatever privileges Belcherand Hawkins had with the second,
they just came naturally withus.
And after the first day or two,we gave up all pretense of
keeping a close eye on them.
Not that they could have gotfar, for they had accents you
could cut with a knife and worekhaki tunics and overcoats with
civilian pants and boots.

(11:47):
But it's my belief that theynever had any idea of escaping
and were quite content to bewhere they were.
It was a treat to see howBelcher got off with the old
woman of the house where we werestaying.
She was a great warrant toscold, and cranky even with us.
But before she ever had a chanceof giving our guests, as I may
call them, a lick of her tongue,Belcher had made her his friend

(12:11):
for life.
She was breaking sticks, andBelcher, who hadn't been more
than ten minutes in the house,jumped up from his seat and went
over to her.
Allow me, madam, he says,smiling his queer little smile.
Please allow me.
And he takes the bloody hatchet.
She was struck too paralytic tospeak.

(12:31):
And after that, Belcher would beat her heels, carrying a bucket,
a basket, or a load of turf, asthe case might be.
As Noble said, he got intolooking before she leapt, and
hot water, or any little thingshe wanted, Belcher would have
it ready for her.
For such a huge man, Belcher Andthough I am five foot ten
myself, I had to look up to him.

(12:53):
He had an uncommon shortness, orshould I say, lack of speech.
It took us some time to get usedto him walking in and out like a
ghost without a word, especiallybecause Hawkins talked enough
for a platoon.
It was strange to hear BigBelcher, with his toes in the
ashes, come out with a solitaryexcuse me chum, or that's right

(13:14):
chum.
His one and only passion wascards.
And I will say for him that hewas a good card player.
He could have fleeced me anoble, but whatever we lost to
him, Hawkins lost to us.
And Hawkins played with themoney Belcher gave him.
Hawkins lost to us because hehad too much old gab.

(13:35):
And we probably lost to Belcherfor the same reason.
Hawkins and Noble would spit atone another about religion into
the early hours of the morning,and Hawkins worried the soul out
of Noble, whose brother was apriest, with a string of
questions that would puzzle acardinal.
To make it worse, even intreating of holy subjects,

(13:55):
Hawkins had a deplorable tongue.
I never in all my career met aman who could mix such a variety
of cursing and bad language intoan argument.
He was a terrible man, and afright to argue.
He never did a stroke of work,and when he had no one else to
talk to, he got stuck on the oldwoman.
He met his match in her, for oneday, when he tried to get her to

(14:17):
complain profanely of thedrought, she gave him a great
comedown by blaming it entirelyon Jupiter Pluvius, a deity
neither Hawkins nor I have everheard of.
Though noble said that among thepagans it was believed that he
had something to do with thereign.
Another day, he was swearing atthe capitalists for starting the
German war, when the old ladyleaned out her iron, puckered up

(14:40):
her little crab's mouth andsaid, Mr.
Hawkins, you can say what youlike about the war.
And think you'll deceive mebecause I'm only an old, single,
poor countrywoman.
But I know what started the war.
It was that Italian count thatstole the heathen deity out of
the temple in Japan.
Believe me, Mr.
Hawkins, nothing but sorrow orwant can follow the people that

(15:01):
disturb the hidden powers.
A queer old girl, alright.
We had our tea one evening, andHawkins lit the lamp, and we all
sat into cards.
Jeremiah Donovan came in too,and sat down and watched us for
a while, and it suddenly struckme that he had no great love for

(15:22):
the two Englishmen.
It came as a great surprise tome, because I hadn't noticed
anything about him before.
Late in the evening, a reallyterrible argument blew up
between Hawkins and Noble, aboutcapitalists and priests and the
love of your country.
Anyway, the capitalist, saysHawkins with an angry gulp, pays
the priests to tell you aboutthe next world, so you won't

(15:45):
notice what the bastards are upto in this.
Nonsense, man, says Noble,losing his temper, before ever a
capitalist was thought of.
People believed in the nextworld.
Hawkins stood up as though hewas preaching a sermon.
Oh, they did, did they?
he says with a sneer.
They believed all the things youbelieve?
Isn't that what you mean?

(16:05):
And you believe that God createdAdam, and Adam created Shem, and
Shem created Jehoshaphat?
You believe all that silly oldfairy tale about Eve and Eden
and the apple?
Well, listen to me, chum.
If you're entitled to hold asilly belief like that, I'm
entitled to hold my sillybelief.
Which is that the first thingyour God created was a bleeding
capitalist, with morality andRolls Royce complete.

(16:29):
Am I right, chum, he says toBelcher?
You're right, chum, saysBelcher, with his amused smile,
and he got up from the table tostretch his long legs into the
fire and stoke his moustache.
So seeing that Jeremiah andDonovan was going, and that
there was no knowing when theargument about religion would be
over, I went out with him.

(16:50):
We strolled down to the villagetogether, and then stopped, and
he started blushing and mumblingand saying I ought to be behind,
keeping guard on the prisoners.
I didn't like the tone he tookwith me, and anyway I was bored
with life in the cottage.
So I replied by asking him whatthe hell he wanted guarding them
for at all.
I told him I'd talked it overwith Noble and that we'd both

(17:12):
rather be out with a fightingcolumn.
What use are those fellows tous, says I.
He looked at me in surprise andsaid, I thought you knew we were
keeping them as hostages.
Hostages, I said?
The enemy have prisonersbelonging to us, he says.
And now they're talking aboutshooting them.
If they shoot our prisoners,we'll shoot theirs.

(17:33):
Shoot them, I said.
What else did you think we werekeeping them for, he says.
Wasn't it very unforeseen of younot to warn Noble and myself of
that in the beginning, I said?
How was it, says he.
You might have known it.
We couldn't have known it,Jeremiah Donovan, says I.
How could we, when they were onour hands for so long?

(17:53):
The enemy have our prisoners aslong and longer, says he.
That's not the same thing atall, says I.
What difference is there, sayshe.
I couldn't tell him, because Iknew he wouldn't understand.
If it was only an old dog thatwas going to the vets, you'd try
not to get too fond of him.
But Jeremiah Donovan wasn't aman that would ever be in danger

(18:15):
of that.
And when is this thing going tobe decided, says I.
We might hear tonight, he says,or tomorrow, or the next day at
the latest.
So if it's only hanging aroundhere that's trouble to you,
you'll be free soon enough.
It wasn't the hanging aroundthat was a trouble to me at all
by this time.
I had worse things to worryabout.

(18:36):
When I got back to the cottage,the argument was still on.
Hawkins was holding forth in hisbest style, maintaining that
there was no next world, andNoble was maintaining that there
was, but I could see thatHawkins had had the best of it.
Do you know what Chumby sayswith a saucy smile?
I think you're just as big ableeding unbeliever as I am.

(18:59):
You say you believe in the nextworld, and you know just as much
about the next world as I do,which is sweet damn all.
What's heaven?
You don't know.
Where's heaven?
You don't know.
You know, sweet damn wall, I askye again, do they wear wings?
Very well then, says Noble, theydo.
Is that enough for you?
They do wear wings.

(19:20):
Where do they get them, then?
Who makes them?
Have they a factory for wings?
Have they a sort of store whereyou hand in your chit and take
your bleeding wings?
You're an impossible man toargue with, says Noble.
Now listen to me.
And then they were off again.
It was long after midnight whenwe locked up and went to bed.

(19:40):
As I blew out the candle I toldNoble what Jeremiah Donovan was
after telling me.
Noble took it very quietly.
When we'd been in bed about anhour, he asked me did I think we
ought to tell the Englishmen.
I didn't think we should,because it was more than likely
that the English wouldn't shootour men.
And even if they did, thebrigade officers, who are always

(20:03):
up and down with the 2ndBattalion and knew the
Englishmen well, wouldn't belikely to want them plucked.
I think so too, says Noble.
It would be a great cruelty toput the wind up them now.
It was very unforeseen ofJeremiah Donovan anyhow, says I.
It was the next morning that wefound it so hard to face Belcher

(20:23):
and Hawkins.
We went about the house all dayscarcely saying a word.
Veltcher didn't seem to notice.
He was stretched into the ashesas usual, with his usual look of
waiting in quietness forsomething unforeseen to happen.
But Hawkins noticed, and put itdown to nobles being beaten in
the argument of the nightbefore.

(20:43):
Why can't you take a discussionin the proper spirit?
He said severely.
You and your Adam and Eve.
I'm a communist, that's what Iam.
Communist or anarchist, it allcomes to much the same thing.
And for hours he went round thehouse muttering when the fit
took him.
Adam and Eve, Adam and Eve.
Nothin better to do with theirtime than pickin bleedin apples.

(21:04):
Three.
I don't know how we got throughthat day, but I was very glad
when it was over.
The tea things were clearedaway, and Belcher said in his
peaceable way, Well, chums, whatabout it?
We sat round the table, andHawkins took out the cards, And
just then I heard JeremiahDonovan's footstep on the path

(21:25):
and a dark pre sentiment crossedmy mind.
I rose from the table and caughthim before he reached the door.
What do you want?
I asked.
I want those two soldier friendsof yours, he says, getting red.
Is that the way, JeremiahDonovan, I asked.
That's the way.
There were four of our lads shotthis morning, and one of them a

(21:47):
boy of sixteen.
That's bad, I said.
At that moment, Noble followedme out, and the three of us
walked down the path togethertalking in whispers.
Feeney, the local intelligenceofficer, was standing by the
gate.
What are you going to do aboutit, I asked Jeremiah Donovan.
I want you and Noble to get themout.

(22:09):
Tell them that they're beingshifted again.
That'll be the quietest way.
Leave me out of it, says Nobleunder his breath.
Jeremiah Donovan looks at himhard.
All right, he says.
You and Feeney get a few toolsfrom the shed and dig a hole by
the far end of the bog.
Bonaparte and myself will beafter you.
Don't let anyone see you withthe tools.

(22:31):
I wouldn't like it to go beyondourselves.
We saw Feeney go round to theshed and went in ourselves.
I left to Jeremiah Donovan to dothe explanations.
He told them that he had ordersto send them back to the 2nd
Battalion.
Hawkins let out a mouthful ofcurses and you could see that
though Belcher didn't sayanything, he was a bit upset

(22:52):
too.
The old woman was for havingthem stay in spite of us.
And she didn't stop advisingthem until Jeremiah Donovan lost
his temper and turned on her.
He had a nasty temper, I noticedit.
It was pitch dark in the cottageby this time, but no one thought
of lighting the lamp and in thedarkness the two Englishmen
fetched their topcoats and saidgoodbye to the old woman.

(23:17):
Just as a man makes a home of ableeding place, some bastard at
headquarters thinks you're toocushy and shunts you off, says
Hawkins, shaking her hand.
A thousand thanks, madam, saysBelcher.
A thousand thanks foreverything, as though he'd made
it up.
We went round the back of thehouse and down toward the bog.

(23:37):
It was only then that JaredViadonovan told them.
He was shaking with excitement.
There were four of our fellowsshot in court this morning, and
now you're to be shot asreprisal.
What are you talking about,snaps Hawkins.
It's bad enough being muckedabout as we are without having
to put up with your funny jokes.

(23:57):
It isn't a joke, says Donovan.
I'm sorry, Hawkins, but it'strue.
And begins on the usualrigmarole about duty and how
unpleasant it is.
I never noticed that people whotalk a lot about duty find it
much of a trouble to them.
Oh, cut it out, says Hawkins.
Ask Bonaparte, says Donovan,seeing that Hawkins isn't taking

(24:18):
him seriously.
Isn't it true, Bonaparte?
It is, I say.
And Hawkins stops.
Ah, for Christ's sake, chum.
I mean it, chum, I say.
You don't sound as if you meanit.
If he doesn't mean it, I do,says Donovan, working himself
up.
What have ye against me,Jeremiah Donovan?

(24:39):
I never said I had anythingagainst you.
But why did your people take ourfour of our prisoners and shoot
them in cold blood?
He took Hawkins by the arm anddragged him on, but it was
impossible to make himunderstand that we were in
earnest.
I had this smith and wesson inmy pocket and I kept fingering
it, and wondering what I'd do ifthey put up a fight for it or

(25:00):
ran, and wishing to God they'ddo one or the other.
I knew if they did run for it,That I'd never fire on them.
Hawkins wanted to know, wasNoble in it?
And when we said yes, he askedus why Noble wanted to plug him.
Why did any of us want to plughim?
What had he done to us?
Weren't we all chums?

(25:21):
Didn't we understand him, anddidn't he understand us?
Did we imagine for an instantthat he'd shoot us for all the
so and so officers in the so andso British Army?
By this time we'd reached thebog, and I was so sick I
couldn't even answer him.
We walked along the edge of itin the darkness, and every now
and then Hawkins would call ahalt and begin all over again,

(25:44):
as if he was wound up about ourbeing chums, and I knew that
nothing but the sight of thegrave would convince him that we
had to do it.
And all the time I was hopingthat something would happen,
that they'd run for it, or thatNoble would take over the
responsibility from me, I hadthe feeling that it was worse on
Noble than me.

(26:06):
Four.
At last we saw the lantern inthe distance and made toward it.
Noble was carrying it, and Feenywas standing somewhere in the
darkness behind him, and thepicture of them so still and
silent in the bogland brought ithome to me that we were in
earnest.
And banished the last bit ofhope I had.

(26:28):
Belcher, unrecognizing Noble,said, Hello, chum, in his quiet
way.
But Hawkins flew at him at once,and the argument began all over
again, only this time Noble hadnothing to say for himself, and
stood with his head down,holding the lantern between his
legs.
It was Jeremiah Donovan who didthe answering, for the twentieth

(26:48):
time, as though it was hauntinghis mind.
Hawkins asked if anybody thoughthe'd shoot Noble.
Yes, you would, says JeremiahDonovan.
No, I wouldn't, damn you.
You would, because you'd knowyou'd be shot for not doing it.
I wouldn't, not if I was to beshot twenty times over.
I wouldn't shoot a pal.
And Belcher wouldn't.

(27:09):
Isn't that right, Belcher?
That's right, chum, Belchersaid, but more by way of
answering the question than ofjoining in the argument.
Belcher sounded as thoughwhatever unforeseen thing he'd
always been waiting for had comeat last.
Anyway, who says Noble would beshot if I wasn't?

(27:29):
What do you think I'd do if Iwas in his place out in the
middle of a blasted bog?
What would you do?
asks Donovan.
I'd go with him wherever he wasgoing, of course.
Share my last bob with him andstick by him through thick and
thin.
No one can ever say of me that Ilet down a pal.
We had enough of this, saysJeremiah Donovan, cocking his

(27:49):
revolver.
Is there any message you want tosend?
No, there isn't.
Do you want to say your prayers?
Hawkins came out with a coldblooded remark that even shocked
me and turned on Noble again.
Listen to me, Noble, he says.
You and me are chums.
You can't come over to my side,so I'll come over to your side.

(28:10):
That show you I mean what I say?
Give me a rifle, and I'll goalong with you and the other
lads.
Nobody answered him.
We knew that that was no wayout.
Hear what I'm saying, he says?
I'm through with it.
I'm a deserter or anything elseyou like.
I don't believe in your stuff,but it's no worse than mine.
That satisfying you?

(28:31):
Noble raised his head, butDonovan began to speak, and he
lowered it again withoutreplying.
For the last time, have you anymessages to send, says Donovan,
in a cool, excited sort ofvoice.
Shut up, Donovan.
You don't understand me, butthese lads do.
They're not the sort to make apal and kill a pal.

(28:52):
They're not the tools of anycapitalist.
I alone of the crowd saw Donovanraise his Webley to the back of
Hawkins neck and as he did so Ishut my eyes and tried to pray.
Hawkins had begun to saysomething else when Donovan
fired and as I opened my eyes atthe bang it was I saw Hawkins
stagger at the knees and lie outflat at Noble's feet, slowly and

(29:16):
as quiet as a kid fallingasleep, with the lantern light
on his lean legs and brightfarmer's boots.
We all stood very still,watching him settle out in the
last agony.
Then Belcher took out ahandkerchief and began to tie it
about his own eyes.
In our excitement we'd forgottento do the same for Hawkins.

(29:37):
And seeing it wasn't big enough,turned and asked for the loan of
mine.
I gave it to him and he noddedthe two together and pointed
with his foot at Hawkins.
He's not quite dead, he says.
Better give him another.
Sure enough, Hawkins left kneeis beginning to rise.
I bend down and put my gun tohis head.

(29:58):
Then Recollecting myself, I getup again.
Belcher understands what's in mymind.
Give him his first, he says.
I don't mind.
Poor bastard.
We don't know what's happeningto him now.
I knelt and fired.
By this time, I didn't seem toknow what I was doing.

(30:19):
Belcher, who was fumbling a bitawkwardly with the handkerchief,
came out with a laugh as heheard the shot.
It was the first time I heardhim laugh.
And it sent a shudder down myback, it sounded so unnatural.
Poor bugger, he said quietly.
And last night he was so curiousabout it all.
It's very queer, chums.

(30:40):
I always think, now he knows asmuch about it as they'll ever
let him know.
And last night he was all in thedark.
Donovan helped him to tie thehandkerchief about his eyes.
Thanks, chum, he said.
Donovan asked if there were anymessages he wanted to send.
No chums, he says, not from me.

(31:01):
If any of you would like towrite Hawkins mother, you'll
find a letter from her in hispocket.
He and his mother were greatchums, but my missus left me
eight years ago, went away withanother fellow, and took the kid
with her.
I like the feeling of a home, asyou may have noticed, but I
couldn't start again after that.

(31:21):
It was an extraordinary thing,but in those few minutes Belcher
said more than all the weeksbefore.
It was just as if the sound ofthe shot had started a flood of
talk in him and he could go onthe whole night like that, quite
happily, talking about himself.
We stood round like fools nowthat he couldn't see us any

(31:42):
longer.
Donovan looked at Noble andNoble shook his head.
Then Donovan raised his Webley,and at that moment Belcher gives
his queer laugh again.
He may have thought we weretalking about him, or perhaps he
noticed the same thing I'dnoticed and couldn't understand
it.
Excuse me, chums, he says.
I feel like I'm talking a hellof a lot, and so silly, about my

(32:04):
being so handy about a house andthings like that.
But this thing came on mesuddenly.
You'll forgive me, I'm sure.
You don't want to say a prayer,says Donovan?
No, chum, he says.
I don't think it would help.
I'm ready.
And you boys want to get itover.
You understand that we're onlydoing our duty, says Donovan.

(32:25):
Felcher's head was raised like ablind man's, so that you could
only see his chin and the tip ofhis nose in the lantern light.
I never could make out what dutywas myself, he said.
I think you're all good lads, ifthat's what you mean.
I'm not complaining.
Noble, just as if he couldn'tbear any more of it, raised his
fist at Donovan, and in a flashDonovan raised his gun and

(32:49):
fired.
The big man went over like asack of meal, and this time
there was no need for a secondshot.
I don't remember much about theburying, but that it was worse
than all the rest because we hadto carry them to the grave.
It was all mad lonely.
And nothing but a patch oflantern light between ourselves

(33:10):
and the dark and the birdshooting and screeching all
around, disturbed by the guns.
Noble went through Hawkinsbelongings to find the letter
from his mother and then joinedhis hands together.
He did the same with Belger.
Then, when we'd filled thegrave, we separated from
Jeremiah Donovan and Feeny andtook our tools back to the shed.

(33:35):
All the way, we didn't speak aword.
The kitchen was dark and cold aswe left it, and the old woman
was sitting over the hearthsaying her beads.
We walked past her into theroom, and Nobles struck a match
to light the lamp.
She rose quietly and came to thedoorway with all her
cantankerousness gone.

(33:56):
What did ye do with them?
she asked in a whisper.
And Noble started so that thematch went out in his hand.
What's that?
he asked without turning around.
I heard ye, she said.
What did ye hear?
asked Noble.
I heard ye.
Do ye think I didn't hear ye?
Puttin the spade back in thehaseen?
Noble struck another match, andthis time the lamp lit for him.

(34:20):
Was that what you did to them,she asked.
Then, by God, in the verydoorway, she fell on her knees
and began praying.
And after looking at her for aminute or two, Noble did the
same by the fireplace.
I pushed my way out past her,and left them at it.
I stood at the door, watchingthe stars, and listening to the
shrieking of the birds dying outover the bogs.

(34:44):
It's so strange what you feel attimes like that.
You can't describe it.
Noble says he saw everything tentimes the size, as though there
were nothing in the whole worldbut that little patch of bog
with the two Englishmenstiffening into it.
But with me, it was as if thepatch of bog where the
Englishmen were was a millionmiles away, and even Noble and

(35:07):
the old woman mumbling behind meand the birds and the bloody
stars were all far away, and Iwas somehow very small and very
lost and lonely, like a childastray in the snow, and anything
that happened to me afterwards,I never felt the same about
again.

(35:32):
That was Frank O'Connor's TheGuests of the Nation.
The final image of that story.
Of the men in the bog at night,separated from the surrounding
dark by a patch of lanternlight.
And then, what they do.
It always gets to me, no matterhow many times I read the story.
Where did O'Connor get the ideafor the story?

(35:53):
From experience, he was an IRAsoldier.
The idea for the story may havebeen something like, what
happens when two soldiers areordered to execute two men with
whom they become friends?
The greatness of the story comesfrom the complex questions
raised by the ending and by theeffect of the experience on one

(36:14):
of the characters.
And anything that happened to meafterwards, I never felt the
same about again.
The story is an excellentexample of how a simple plot can
lead to a complex and movingresolution.
And how the ideas underlying thestory develop and expand in

(36:34):
relationship to the situation.
And the characters, actions, andresponses.
That was episode 20.
I hope you'll come back for thefinal five episodes, each airing
on Mondays, where I'll talk somemore about writing, answer
questions, and read stories, andmaybe even a poem or two before

(36:58):
wrapping up the season.
If you have a question you'dlike me to answer, you can email
me directly at falco.
ed at gmail.
com.
F A L C O dot E D.
at gmail.
com.
In any event, I'm Ed Falco.
Thanks for listening, and docome back next Monday for

(37:20):
episode 21.