If there had been no war he would have been learning his father’s profession. He had left school six months earlier and was excited at being on his way to a war. He had stayed the night alone at the Grosvenor Hotel, which was an enlargement of his experience, as was also the unaccustomed luxury of having his breakfast in a Pullman. His life hitherto had been spent between the monastic seclusion of his public school, and the domestic simplicity of his home. He had the naïve sensual innocence, the retarded emotional development of many boys of his kind of upbringing, which at his age gave them a certain charm. Going to the war, he imagined that he was now a man, though those who saw him in his smart new uniform, his Sam Browne belt not yet mellow and supple with use, found piquancy in the contrast of his baby face with his accoutrements, like that of a putto in an Italian painting, wearing the helmet and playing with the lance of Mars. This poetic conjunction of the ideas of youth and death was found in the popular verse of the time.
What do You think about When Blackbirds Sing (2014)?
