MOS Chapter 5: The Night Gate
‘Behold,’ said Nightingale, ‘the night gate.’
The chapter title, as far as I can tell, simply refers to the hidden entrance to Casterbrook which Nightingale introduces Peter to in this chapter. It was originally the workman’s entrance.
I pointed out that a definition like that was so broad as to essentially include any use of magic outside of that authorised by the Folly. Nightingale indicated that he regarded that as a feature, not a bug.
“It’s a feature, not a bug” is a bit of a programming reference, but is used fairly widely to describe annoyances/quirks that are intentionally that way - or may be an “unintended feature” (i.e. a mistake that nobody can quite work out to fix, and so gets left in).
In this case, Nightingale is almost certainly being serious - suggesting something about the Folly’s control issues with respect to magic and who gets access to it.
His late father had been a senior civil servant, and had sent the young Jason [Dunlop] to a second-tier independent school in Harrogate
In the UK, and “independent school” is not necessarily the same thing as a public (private) school; although it may be fee-paying, it could be grant-maintained via endowments. It just means that the school is financially & administratively independent from the local education authority (i.e. the state).
But I think in this instance, Jason’s school is described as “independent” rather than a public school simply to reinforce it’s second-tieredness. It’s quite likely that one’s status in the Little Crocodiles was related to the status of the school you’d gone to.
‘There’s more to life than just London,’ said Nightingale.
‘People keep saying that,’ I said. ‘But I’ve never actually seen any proof.’
This is the first instance of Nightingale & Peter’s running joke about Peter’s London-centric worldview...
Truth by told, as a motorway car the Jag isn’t that comfortable, but there was no way I was heading into Morse Central in the Ford Asbo
Inspector Morse, the fictional Oxford-based detective, famously drove a Jaguar Mark 2 himself in the televised adaptation (in the books he drove a Lancia).
‘There were volunteers right from the start of the war,’ said Nightingale. ‘The Virtuous Men, they called themselves - out of the University of Pennsylvania.’ Others had arrived in the years following Pearl Harbor, and Nightingale had always had the impression that there was some deep animosity at work between them and the Virtuous Men.
The University of Pennsylvania is one of, if not the oldest University in the US, and was founded by Benjamin Franklin - who had a bit of a thing for virtue. It seems possible that he could have been responsible in RoL-verse for establishing at least this chapter of American magic - he was a bit of a polymath not unlike Isaac Newton, although the men apparently never met.
As to the animosity with the “others”, it’s been postulated by fandom that this might date back to the civil war. But as yet there’s scant canon detail on foreign traditions and magical administrations so all of this is conjecture.
Nightingale claimed he’d have spotted them if they’d started practising in London. ‘They were hardly what you’d call subtle,’ he said.
A reference to the stereotypical reputation of Americans, particularly tourists, abroad.
When all the map was pink, I thought. When every boy expected his own adventure and girls had not yet been invented.
Peter reflects on just how different Nightingale’s (original) era was. The pink on the map refers to the British Empire - schools would have maps on the wall with all the colonies coloured pink. There was a magazine called “Boy’s Own” aimed at pre-teens and teenaged boys and depicting the sort of adventures that Nightingale has just described (the reference is still in colloquial use today). And it was definitely a man’s world - literally, in the case of Casterbrook and the Folly, of course.
Outside the big cities, my very appearance can sometimes be enough to render certain people speechless.
Peter’s comment touches on the heterogeniety of racial geography in the UK. While London and other major cites are ethnically very diverse, this is not the case everywhere. Of course, we see more of this in Foxglove Summer, in rural Herefordshire - but even Oxford (a city, and not 60 miles from Central London) is something of a different world.
‘Oh,’ said Postmartin in surprise. ‘Geoffrey Wheatcroft? Hardly what I’d call a nefarious fellow. Not your criminal type at all, is he, Thomas?’
Apart from the foreshadowy error of judgement with regards to Wheatcroft’s character, Geoffrey Wheatcroft is also the name of a real-life British journalist. This is apparently entirely unintentional on BA’s part. The name just fit the character...
‘Magdalen College?’ I asked.
‘Yes,’ said Nightingale suddenly thinking.
I got there first. ‘The same college as Jason Dunlop.’
And also two members of the current Conservative Cabinet (government Ministers), plus sundry other Tory MPs and Peers (members of the House of Lords). And a wealth of other influential people, past and present.
P.S. Magdalen is pronounced “maudlin”...
Postmartin suggested a spot of lunch at the Eagle and Child.
An old Oxford pub with literary connections (including C.S. Lewis, who went to Magdalen, and Morse author Colin Dexter).
‘I’m in charge of the great man’s papers, and the papers of all lesser beings that have stood on his shoulders since. Even Nightingale and you.’
Postmartin is referencing the Isaac Newton quote: “If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.”
‘I think perhaps he should have taken that step earlier,’ said Postmartin. ‘Once it was clear that reports of the death of magic had been greatly exaggerated.’
This time Postmartin is referencing the (more familiar misquote) of Mark Twain’s “The report of my death was an exaggeration".
‘I expected it to have been redeveloped,’ I said.
‘As what?’ asked Nightingale.
‘I don’t know. Country hotel and conference centre, health spa, celebrity rehab clinic?’
Rather a lot of big old houses (like Ambrose House) have indeed been repurposed in this way, as they tend to be prohibitively expensive to maintain as residences. Others get sold or part-sold to the National Trust.
‘...Unless you were Horace Greenway, who was unpopular with the prefects.’
In Britain (and, I believe, other Commonwealth countries) school prefects are normally older students who are put in a position of responsibility for/authority over others to help with basic discipline and order - similar to a hall monitor in the US. They may work under a Head Boy or Head Girl (Boy in this case) and often get to wear a shiny badge.
I brushed my fingertips on the wood, and instead felt the rough paper of the Beano and the Eagle.
Both old British comics marketed at children. However, the Eagle didn’t exist until 1950, and the Beano was first published in the late 30s, so neither would have been around when Casterbrook was active as a school. May be a continuity error. Or, Peter’s impression, through the vestigia, was presumably of old comics - his imagination supplied titles he’d heard of, although their association happens to be anachronistic... Let’s go with that :)
As we ascended, I caught a glimpse of rows of names carved into the far wall
Since Nightingale later mentions woodcarving (and the walls are described as “mostly painted brick”), it’s likely that the names are carved into one of the big wooden ‘honour roll’ boards that many schools and other institutions have.
We’d popped into Ryman before leaving Oxford
Ryman is a British stationery and office supplies chain.
‘They’re almost on Denham Street,’ said Nightingale, meaning local plod.
“Plod” is a slang term for uniformed police, and originates with the character of PC Plod in Enid Blyton’s Noddy books (who plodded along slowly).
There was a reason the Jaguar Mk II was the favoured getaway car for blaggers and the Flying Squad, and Nightingale’s Jag had definitely been modded for pursuit.
Meaning, it goes like shit off a shovel... The Mark II was indeed popular as a getaway car back in the 60s for its speed and acceleration coupled with roomy accommodation for up to 5 occupants. And of course, to keep up, the police had them too.
(via philomytha) Interesting bit of errata from this chapter:
The Radcliffe Science Library is housed inside a circular domed building that looks a bit like St Paul’s with the extraneous religious bits cut off.
This is the Radcliffe Camera (known as the Rad Cam) but it does not house the RSL, which was moved to its own more modern building behind the Natural History Museum many years ago.
After the RSL moved out, the Bodleian Library (whose original buildings were right next door) expanded into the Rad Cam, and this is where all the History and English students hang out. The move happened in the 1850s I think, but they must have left the magic books behind...
