Roald Dahl’s “The Landlady” tells the dark story of Billy Weaver, a seventeen-year-old boy who travels from London to Bath on business. When Billy spots a charming looking Bed and Breakfast near the train station, he abandons his plans to find a hotel and decides instead to take a chance on the cozy lodgings—but things aren’t as they seem. Billy meets his fate when his hostess, the titular landlady, deceives and poisons him; she is a taxidermist and intends to display his stuffed body next to those of her last victims. By contrasting appearance and reality, Dahl reminds his readers that first impressions may be deceiving. “The Landlady” is thus a cautionary tale about the danger of stereotypes and prejudice.
The many differences between appearance and reality in the story’s setting deceive Billy and lull him into a false sense of security. The tension between appearance and reality is introduced through an early description of the buildings in Bath. At first glance, the streets seem grand and elegant, lined with tall, “swanky” houses. Looking closer, however, it is evident that “the handsome white façades were cracked and blotchy from neglect.” The eerie image of Billy walking alone at night through a dilapidated neighborhood sets the tone for the story. It is because of the grim weather and the gloomy setting that Billy is drawn to the warm and “brilliantly illuminated” window of the landlady’s Bed and Breakfast. Billy is misled by illusion once more when he notices “a vase of yellow chrysanthemums, tall and beautiful” underneath the Bed and Breakfast sign. In many European countries, yellow chrysanthemums symbolize death and are used as funeral flowers. Here then, the flowers could be read as a warning rather than an invitation, but Billy is too busy trying to be “absolutely fantastically brisk” to notice these clues. Similarly, Billy is pleased to spot a little dog and a parrot through the window and tells himself, “Animals were usually a good sign in a place like this.” Ironically, it later becomes apparent that these pets are dead and stuffed—a very bad sign indeed. Although Billy is attracted to the coziness of the Bed and Breakfast, he does admit to himself that “he was a tiny bit frightened” of boarding houses. He is also sure that The Bell and Dragon pub would be a livelier and more “congenial” place to stay. Despite his better judgment, however, Billy is lured towards the Bed and Breakfast by its inviting appearance. The contrast between Billy’s first impressions of the Bed and Breakfast, and the events that follow inside its walls, reveal the dark and sinister power of deception and illusion. Dahl thus illustrates the shallow and superficial nature of appearances, highlighting the danger of first impressions.
The landlady embodies the conflict between appearance and reality herself. While she “seem[s] terribly nice,” it is clear that the landlady intentionally manipulates Billy in order to lure him into her home. The price she charges for the room, for example, is incredibly cheap, and she generously offers Billy “supper” while showing him around his comfortable room. One of the main reasons that the landlady is able to deceive Billy is because he assumes that she is a sweet, harmless, lady. This assumption proves to be a fatal one. Although Billy notices immediately that she is a bit “dotty,” and later that she “appeared to be slightly off her rocker,” his initial perception of her is unfaltering. He underestimates her hugely, believing that “she not only was harmless—there was no question about that—but she was also quite obviously a kind and generous soul.” Dahl highlights the power of stereotypes and preconceptions when Billy’s prevent him from picking up on the landlady’s creepiness and oddities. She contradicts herself, for example, when telling Billy first of all that they are alone in the house, and later that her other tenants are upstairs—“But my dear boy, [Mr. Mulholland] never left. He's still here. Mr. Temple is also here. They're on the fourth floor, both of them together.” Billy also notices the landlady’s red, painted nails, a detail that is incongruent with her inconspicuous demeanor, and indicates, perhaps, her evil and bloody intentions. Furthermore, the landlady openly objectifies and sexualizes young Billy, something that he also doesn’t pay much attention to: “her blue eyes travelled slowly all the way down the length of Billy's body, to his feet, and then up again,” Dahl writes, and the landlady remarks, “You have the most beautiful teeth, Mr. Weaver, did you know that?” Had the story been one about an older man preying on a much younger girl, the reader would likely be unsurprised when the landlord turned out to be a cruel, evil murderer. Through a simple role reversal, however, Dahl draws attention to the misleading nature of societal prejudices and stereotypes.
Throughout the story, Dahl demonstrates how easily Billy’s judgment is clouded and undermined by his positive first impressions of the landlady’s Bed and Breakfast. The allegorical message at the heart of “The Landlady” urges readers to look beyond the surface. By contrasting appearance and reality, Dahl illustrates how the truth is often concealed by superficial outward appearances.
Appearances and Deception ThemeTracker
Appearances and Deception Quotes in The Landlady
Animals were usually a good sign in a place like this, Billy told himself; and all in all, it looked to him as though it would be a pretty decent house to stay in.
Each word was like a large black eye staring at him through the glass, holding him, compelling him, forcing him to stay where he was....
After all, she not only was harmless—there was no question about that—but she was also quite obviously a kind and generous soul.
“Well, you see, both of these names—Mulholland and Temple—I not only seem to remember each one of them separately, so to speak, but somehow or other, in some peculiar way, they both appear to be sort of connected together as well.”
He noticed that she had small, white, quickly moving hands, and red finger-nails.
Now and again, he caught a whiff of a peculiar smell that seemed to emanate directly from her person. It was not in the least unpleasant, and it reminded him—well, he wasn't quite sure what it reminded him of. Pickled walnuts? New leather? Or was it the corridors of a hospital?
“Left?” she said, arching her brows. “But my dear boy, he never left. He's still here. Mr. Temple is also here. They're on the fourth floor, both of them together.”
“I stuff all my little pets myself when they pass away. Will you have another cup of tea?”
The tea tasted faintly of bitter almonds, and he didn't much care for it. “You did sign the book, didn't you?”