POISSON D'AVRIL
by Somerville and Ross, 1908

Although the novels of Somerville and Ross detailing the economic and cultural threats to Anglo-Irish landowners at the turn of the century constitute their most important work, these authors' reputation rests to a considerable extent on the three volumes of sketches and stories known by the collective title Experiences of an Irish R.M. Of these "Poisson d'Avril," from Further Experiences of an Irish R.M., though not quite a typical example of the works' locale and subject matter, is representative of their tone, style, and quirky artistry.

The reason that "Poisson d'Avril" is an exception to the general rule of the narrator's experiences is that it is set outside his normal sphere of operations, which is based on the area around the market town of Skibbereen in West Cork, where Edith Somerville lived. And his experiences usually involve foxhunts and horse-flesh, from the uncertainties of which a loyal retinue of colorful locals preserve him. The narrator in question, identified in "Poisson d'Avril" merely as "Sinclair," is the R.M., Major Sinclair Yeates. As the R.M., or Resident Magistrate, it is his duty to uphold British law and order in rural Ireland, a place that in the official mind is synonymous with backwardness and chaos. The historical context of the Experiences of an Irish R.M. should be borne in mind. The stories were written in the wake of the Land War of the 1880s, when violence against landlords, police, and magistrates was commonplace, initiating the beginning of the end of the system of land tenure then dominant in Ireland.

As members of the landowning class, Somerville and Ross were fully aware of the shift in social relations brought about by the Land War and government responses to it. Their perspective, however, overlooks the institutional and juridical questions of the day in favor of an intimate portrait of ruler and ruled, the main features of which are geniality and harmlessness. The idea of order may be a slippery one, as "Poisson d'Avril" slyly suggests, and the career of the official who believes in the idea is prey to certain unavoidable contradictions and misprisions. The most serious outcome of Irish irregularity and elusiveness, however, is loss of face rather than any more revolutionary loss. The ties between the law and its subjects seem as relaxed as the embrace of family members. Such unanimity, Experiences of an Irish R.M. argues, articulates the value of the union between Britain and Ireland more cogently than anything that politics might assert. One of the stationmasters in "Poisson d'Avril" acts as if silence on politics is the better part of courtesy. And courtesy, or the "personal element," is the story's preferred version of the social contract.

If on the superficial levels of setting and personnel "Poisson d'Avril" differs from the typical R.M. story, at a more fundamental level it consolidates the general orientation of those stories. The cross-country dash by unreliable train may be a substitute for the more familiar foxhunt, and the waywardness of rural life finds a replica in the inefficiency of the railroad. Nevertheless, "life and its troubles" prove essentially negotiable. Major Yeates's many adventures all have the ultimate effect of securing his safe passage through what is, judging by the weather and the landscape and the glimpses of town life, an inhospitable country. The only mistake that makes a significant difference is the one the major makes himself, snatching in his haste the accoutrements of Jimmy Durkan. When the mistake is discovered, Major Yeates is bereft of the support system that rectified his other errors. Perhaps the personal element will also come to his rescue in Gloucestershire, though the final words of "Poisson d'Avril" suggest that it is not necessarily as freely available among the major's own people as it is in Ireland.

Among the gentry of a Gloucestershire country house party, the R.M. is merely "Sinclair," who leaves at least one of his intimate acquaintances and social equals "cold." In Ireland his presence is distinguished and made viable by the aggreeableness of all who come his way. The Irish characters in "Poisson d'Avril" are the major's social inferiors. Yet, despite the various demands, delays, and discomforts of his journey, there is a sense in which he assents to, or at least tolerates, the style of public behavior responsible for his travail. His is not the head that sticks out the carriage window, asking various relevant yet somehow inappropriate questions in "a wrathful English voice." His encounter with the peasant women and their conversation regarding the salmon may not be intended to contrast with the story's closing scene. The contrast in social styles and social expectations, however, is revealing not only from an amateurishly anthropological point of view but also from an appreciation of "the comfortable mental sleekness" the major feels as a result of the encounter.

This complacent feeling is amusingly ironic in view of the fact that Major Yeates has just discovered that he is, in effect, an accomplice to the crime of poaching, one of the most common offenses against property heard in his courtroom. The piquancy of these and other quirks of circumstance are expertly rendered by the author's animated style, whose combination of vivid demotic speech and punctilious, animated prose not only depicts various Irish realities of the day but also illustrates the dual character of the Anglo-Irish experience. Major Yeates's journey between the two poles of this experience hints, in its darkness, uncertainty, inclemency, and unforeseen outcome, at some of the insecurities of the times, against which the wryly stoical comedy of Somerville and Ross may be seen as an eloquent defense.

—George O'Brien