Graham Greene’s short story “The Destructors” explores the power of creativity through the actions of a gang of prepubescent boys in post-World War II London. The gang, headquartered in a parking lot, is led alternatingly by Blackie and Trevor, who is known within the gang by his more working-class moniker, T. Blackie leads the group at the outset of the story, but T. assumes control of the gang after he proposes to destroy the beautiful old house that borders their car park. For most of the boys in the gang, destroying the house is of the same spirit as their usual mischief, just on a larger scale that is apt to get them some attention and praise from other gangs. For T., however, the act of destroying the house becomes an act of creation, which allows him to assert his identity as a being with the power to create and destroy and therefore a freedom from the things that had constrained him.
Greene first introduces the house that is to be destroyed, owned by a Mr. Thomas (whom the boys call Old Misery), as one of the houses that survived the German bombing campaign in World War II known as the Blitz. The house is now structurally imperfect as a result of wounds suffered during that bombing, but it retains some of its former glory. A famous architect, Wren, built the house and it stands alone next to the gang’s car park, at a slight lean, because of its age and the bombs. The house is intended as a work of art. It was crafted by an artist—an architect who also designs churches—and it stands as an artifact of the will of that artist. After touring the house with its owner, Old Misery, T. reports back to the gang and lays out his plan to destroy it. T. describes the house as beautiful, which description shows that T. is able to appreciate a work of art like the house and that he understands what is beautiful. The beauty of the architect Wren’s creation consists of the original creative energy of the artist as well as T.’s inspired plans for the future destruction of the house.
T.’s creative act is the systematic destruction of the house. Graham Greene writes that the boys “worked with the seriousness of creators—and destruction after all is a form of creation” (p. 118), especially when the destruction is engaged in so carefully and with such organization. When Blackie, whom T. supplanted as gang leader for the course of the destruction of the house, walked into the house for the first time, “he had at once the impression of organization, very different from the old happy-go-lucky ways under his leadership” (117). Under Blackie’s guidance, the gang had concerned themselves with mischief and general discourteousness. Their most recent plan had been to attempt to get, or steal, free bus rides. The destruction of the house is a departure from the gang’s earlier, petty dealings in that destroying the house is a creative act by which T. can assert and define himself in the world as a being with the ability to create and destroy. This would set him apart from Blackie and the gang, who are only able to react and rebel, but not impose their will.
Up to the moment of its destruction, the house itself parallels the character of T. The house had once been well maintained, but since the war its owner does his best to repair the house alone, and the house suffered for it. T., on the other hand, was born to aristocratic parents, who named him Trevor. Then his father “ ‘had come down in the world’ and […] his mother [still] considered herself better than the neighbors” (112). T. and the house both are described by a wealth, or an original sense of value, that has decayed. However, T. has the ability, through his act of creation, to separate himself from the house and establish an identity for himself that is based on what he does rather than what he is made of. In fact, T.’s creation is the only the thing that keeps him from returning to his wounded aristocratic identity. T. is named T. so long as he is pursuing his creative vision, and it is only when it seems as though he will fail to destroy the house, and so fail to fulfill his creative vision and fail to assert his power as a creating agent, that the boys in the gang return to calling him Trevor. This happens when Old Misery seems as though he is about to interrupt T.’s project, and the boys are ready to quit. For a moment, T. loses his power over the house as he loses his ability to shape its destruction how he planned. Then Blackie intervenes, asking “[w]hat’s your plan, T.?” (120) and once again submitting himself, and the boys he controlled, to T. T. is then able to prevent Old Misery from entering the house, and the destruction proceeds as planned.
T.’s transformation from Trevor to T., although it begins when he joins the gang, is not completed until the destruction of the house. It sets him apart from the other characters in the story, while at the beginning of the story he resembled them. While T. is a creator, Mr. Thomas wants no part of creating anything. He is comfortable merely maintaining his house, which he believes was “saved so narrowly […] from destruction” (120) during the Blitz, and he allows himself to be manipulated and trapped in his own lavatory by children. The house has a power over him that T. has managed to surpass with the act of destruction. The boys in the gang, too, do not fully understand the power they manifest in their destruction, and while they can appreciate their actions, they do not understand them. This is evident when T. and Blackie are setting fire to Old Misery’s savings, one bill at a time, and Blackie asks if T. hates Old Misery. T. responds by saying he does not hate Old Misery and “ ‘there’d be no fun if [he] hated him’ ” (118). He adds that ‘all this hate and love’ is “hooey” and ‘there’s only things’ (118). In T.’s valuation, there exist only things and the people that can manipulate things. T. is making himself into one of those people that has the power to move and therefore create things. T. is not influenced by love or hate, or by a desire for possessions, as the other boys in his gang are. He forbids the gang, who had been petty thieves, from taking anything from the house. He says “Nobody’s going to steal anything from this house” and when he and Blackie burn Old Misery’s savings, it is a “celebration” (118) of their newly acquired power over those “things.” The boys set the money on fire just to watch it burn, and for each bill, to celebrate the freedom that comes with their disassociation from a dependent relationship on things.
The story ends as a lorry driver and Old Misery look upon the ruined pile of rubble that was formerly a house, and the lorry driver, who had unwittingly applied the last impetus that toppled the house, laughs. The fact that he is amused by the destruction, says “there’s nothing personal, but you got to admit it’s funny” (124) to Old Misery, shows that he can appreciate the destruction of the house as an aesthetic event, without any other attachment to either the house or Old Misery’s ownership of the house. T., who had gained a temporary freedom from his dependence on things through his creative act of destruction, would have expected his work to be appreciated in just that light manner. T.’s actions, which could have appeared cruelly motivated, were actually a stand against whatever would keep him down. Greene’s story shows it is only through creativity and art that we might transcend our circumstances.
Works Cited
Greene, Graham. “The Destructors.” Perrine’s Literature: Structure, Sound and Sense, 10th Edition. Ed. Thomas R. Arp, et al. Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2009. 111-125.
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The following, and actually this part as well, comprises an essay regarding all the things I have learned in ten weeks of Writing About Literature class, with a strict emphasis on my continuing development as a student of English literature in accordance with the goals of the course itself (English 270) and the English Major program at Augustana college. These goals are, first, that I attain a qualitatively increased ability to effectively communicate, in writing, a coherent and logical argument regarding a claim about some particular literature, and second, that that claim be a meaningful and interesting comment on said literature and its relationship to myself, other people, literary history, aesthetics, the world, etc. This essay will be an assessment of my own progress toward learning the appropriate methods conducive to my achievement of those goals. One thing I haven’t quite learned is how important the assigned essay length requirements are to Professor Daniels, so I will err on the side of caution and attempt to fill up at least two pages, double-spaced, with a detailed account of my intellectual growth and, apparently, a lot of barely relevant filler. I hope my readers will forgive some or all of the overwrought stylings in this essay, but I fear without them I shall fall far short of the requisite word-count, and anyway I cannot imagine that what my reader has read thus far might be less interesting than what will follow in the body of the essay. As a final note before I undertake to account for my education this term, I confess that the style of writing my reader has been enjoying (or not) up to this point is not representative of the instruction I received but, in the light of a minimum length requirement which seems to me to punish brevity and to arbitrarily mandate (after-the-fact) two to three pages of documentable learning, the character of this essay should be considered my good-natured retaliation.
In Writing About Literature class, I read short fiction, poetry, and short plays. I have taken English classes before this one, and so I have experience with writing essays about fiction and poetry. I appreciated that almost every piece of literature I was required to read for class was something I had not previously read or been exposed to. Also, it was important for me, as an English major, to finally get a handle on MLA formatting. I had been getting away with citations and formats that were not exactly correct, because I did not know what exactly correct looked like. This may be the class, after years and years of managing to ignore what is expected of me, in which I actually learn the proper way to format my paper, make a works cited page, and internally cite sources. The workshops for the fiction and poetry papers were helpful as well. Critiquing everyone else’s papers was a great learning experience, as it forced me to explain and analyze other papers in such a way that will be helpful for critiquing my own papers in the future. And if I ever decide that I want to participate in writing workshops, I have become well-enough acquainted with the etiquette that I would feel comfortable in that setting. With regards to the goals of the course that I mentioned earlier, I feel I have progressed in my ability to make meaningful conclusions and interpretations of literature, and communicate those ideas effectively. This is a natural consequence of having to practice writing, which is helped along by the constructive feedback the class and Professor provided on my essays. Also I learned that oeuvre is literally translated as egg, but in common usage refers to an author’s body of work. So there you go.
-Jay Rodriguez
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