Closely intertwined with appearance and reality in “Gabriel-Ernest” are the themes of social status and hypocrisy. The efforts of the characters to protect their status and use it in self-serving ways lead almost directly to the story’s tragic and arguably avoidable conclusion. The narrator tells readers that Van Cheele is not only a local landowner, but a “parish councillor and justice of the peace.” Consequently, his primary concern upon encountering Gabriel-Ernest in the woods is not so much safety as his own reputation. Van Cheele is able to quickly dismiss the idea that Gabriel-Ernest actually ate the miller’s baby, but is less confident that he could avoid the stigma that would come with public knowledge of the “savage,” naked boy living in his woods. In particular, he fears that he will be held financially responsible for the missing livestock Gabriel-Ernest may have eaten, and so he avoids saying anything about his discovery until the boy arrives at his house. Van Cheele’s aunt’s ill-fated decisions are likewise motivated by an inverted but equally misguided awareness of social status, as she sees herself as a kind of philanthropist helping Gabriel-Ernest. The narrator ironically notes that “A naked homeless child appealed to Miss Van Cheele as warmly as a stray kitten or derelict puppy would have done.” Fixated on this romantic idea, she avoids any close scrutiny of Gabriel-Ernest or his behavior, giving him access to the Toop child who subsequently disappears, and after his disappearance has him memorialized as a hero. Miss Van Cheele’s feelings about Gabriel-Ernest have very little to do with observed reality, but rather her narcissistic desire to be the charitable patron of the “unknown boy.” Both of the Van Cheeles’ efforts to maintain a certain kind of social position—either protecting one’s wealth or using it to appear morally superior—lead not only to hypocritical words and actions, but also to the Toop child’s death. Though the Van Cheeles’ out-of-touch concerns are humorous, the author uses them to make a more serious point, showing how preoccupation with status at the expense of honesty—to oneself or to others—has harmful consequences for society more broadly.
Social Status and Hypocrisy ThemeTracker
Social Status and Hypocrisy Quotes in Gabriel-Ernest
He had a stuffed bittern in his study, and knew the names of quite a number of wild flowers, so his aunt had possibly some justification in describing him as a great naturalist. At any rate, he was a great walker. It was his custom to take mental notes of everything he saw during his walks, not so much for the purpose of assisting contemporary science as to provide topics for conversation afterwards. When the bluebells began to show themselves in flower he made a point of informing every one of the fact; the season of the year might have warned his hearers of the likelihood of such an occurrence, but at least they felt that he was being absolutely frank with them.
‘You can’t live in these woods,’ said Van Cheele.
‘They are very nice woods,’ said the boy, with a touch of patronage in his voice.
‘But where do you sleep at night?’
‘I don’t sleep at night; that’s my busiest time.’
Van Cheele began to have an irritated feeling that he was grappling with a problem that was eluding him.
‘What do you feed on?’ he asked.
‘Flesh,’ said the boy, and he pronounced the word with slow relish, as though he were tasting it.
‘Flesh! What flesh?’
‘Since it interests you, rabbits, wild-fowl, hares, poultry, lambs in their season, children when I can get any; they’re usually too well locked in at night, when I do most of my hunting. It’s quite two months since I tasted child-flesh.’
His position as a parish councillor and justice of the peace seemed somehow compromised by the fact that he was harbouring a personality of such doubtful repute on his property; there was even a possibility that a heavy bill of damages for raided lambs and poultry might be laid at his door.
A naked homeless child appealed to Miss Van Cheele as warmly as a stray kitten or derelict puppy would have done.
‘We must do all we can for him,’ she decided, and in a very short time a messenger, dispatched to the rectory, where a page-boy was kept, had returned with a suit of pantry clothes, and the necessary accessories of shirt, shoes, collar, etc. Clothed, clean, and groomed, the boy lost none of his uncanniness in Van Cheele’s eyes, but his aunt found him sweet.
‘We must call him something till we know who he really is,’ she said. ‘Gabriel-Ernest, I think; those are nice suitable names.’
Mrs Toop, who had eleven other children, was decently resigned to her bereavement, but Miss Van Cheele sincerely mourned her lost foundling. It was on her initiative that a memorial brass was put up in the parish church to ‘Gabriel-Ernest, an unknown boy, who bravely sacrificed his life for another.’
Van Cheele gave way to his aunt in most things, but he flatly refused to subscribe to the Gabriel-Ernest memorial.