Tom Curr Fall, 2014Senior EssayDr. Levy

Coming to Terms With Being a Pirate:The Politics of Neverland and the void between reality and imagination

It is a conservative ideal to protect a child's innocence and to retain a core collection of

"classic" literature for kids to grow up with. However I believe that doing has only served to

promote leftist ideology in children and thusly radicalize children's literature as a key theatre of

campaign for the left. Consider whether children who grow up wanting to be Peter Pan, for

example, would be greater moved by archetypal conservative or liberal policies; Surely, it would

be the latter.

Just as children's literature has become a theatre of campaign for the left, so, we will

learn, has the real world, capital driven and 'adventureless', come to embody all that they find

habitually disappointing. As George L. Bernstein explains in his work, Liberalism and Liberal

Politics in Edwardian England, leftist "recognize the need to correct the abuses in the institutions

which [are] the bulwarks of social order," and use children's literature to spread this message to

the most easily influenced members of society- kids (Bernstein, 6). In the case of J.M Barrie's

Peter and Wendy, we have a commentary on the corruptive power of growing up in a capitalist

world where stories and magic are routinely replaced by stocks and profit margins. We also have

a description of the dangers involved with eternal childhood or a failure to grow up. Barrie, I

believe, suggests that one must retain enough of one's childhood and imagination to avoid

suffocating in the soul-sucking monotony of the adult world, whilst conforming enough to its

demands that they may traverse its rocky paths successfully. Essentially, you must be mature

enough to survive in the so-called 'real world,' but maintain enough youthful imagination to

enjoy the process.

Since his first appearance in Barrie's 1902 work, The Little White Bird - as a week-old

infant, surrounded by faeries, cavorting through the night - Peter Pan has transcended literature

to embody our 'inner-child'. His refusal to grow up is the archetypal refusal to conform and, as

such, Peter Pan has become ingrained in our psyche as the avatar of everything we wish we

could, but cannot, do. A cultural symbol of resilience and youthfulness, Pan has become a role

model and a hero to children and adults across the globe. Yet his birth-place; the pages of

Barrie's work; remains a largely unexplored medium for examining the repercussions of crushed

childhood dreams, the effect of societal expectations and the influence of capitalism on children.

A taken-for-granted text, Peter and Wendy has been adapted countless times from

Barrie's original publication. Peter Pan became a pseudo-obsession for many during the

twentieth century, with six major movies and with sculptures erected in his image across the

globe: in Australia, the United States, Canada, New Zealand, Belgium, England and, Barrie's

homeland, Scotland. Race horses have been named in his honor; an operation to evacuate Cuban

children from the then-new Castro regime during the 1960s was code-named Operation Peter

Pan and, in the past thirty years, Peter Pan Syndrome has become the term to describe men with

underdeveloped levels of maturity. Peter even has his own bus-line, a brand of peanut butter and

a record label. In short, he has become an icon. And yet despite all the attention, the message of

his story, I believe, remains widely missed. Peter and Wendy takes a much deeper reading to

truly grasp than many people realize.

As Vera Winifred Schott explained in her article, The Peter Pan Players of Wichita, for

most, Peter is the undoubted hero of the piece and the role model Barrie provides children with:

"this whimsical, capricious lad will forever storm and capture the citadels that guard the hearts of

the children of the world" (Winifred Schott, 768). Similarly so, Mr. Darling and Captain Hook

are the antagonists to Pan's elaborate whimsicality. But what if I were to tell you that Peter and

Mr. Darling are but shadows of one-another? That Mr. Darling is no less a lost boy than Peter,

and that Peter is no less capable of piracy than Hook? That, rather than an innocent children's

story, Peter and Wendy is a warning to those wishing never to grow up, that they will, in time,

find themselves lost; and to those who grow up too fully, that they risk becoming a pawn to the

capitalist machine - pirates in suits. Peter and Wendy encapsulates Barrie's vision of children

salvaging some parts of their childhood into adulthood and thusly being immature enough to be

happy while mature enough to cope.

Barrie's discourse was practicality and the avoidance of growing up too soon, his voice

one of hundreds to use children's literature as a way to promote leftist ideals (his later works

include several, more clear, social commentaries - such as The Twelve Pound Look which details

a divorced wife gaining an independent income). Yet he is almost unique in his deliberate

undermining of capitalism and it's nefarious influence, stripping the magic from our lives one

sale at a time. James Hart, Malia Marmo and Nick Castle (script writers for Steven Speilberg's

1991 adaptation of Peter Pan, Hook) made a pointed reference to the symmetry between piracy

and capitalism when Wendy reacts to hearing that Peter has become a successful corporate

lawyer, remarking "Peter, you have become a pirate" (Hart, Marmo & Castle, Writ. "Hook").

It is generally understood that George Darling (the children's father) is the implicit villain

of the piece, a real world mirror of Hook's more obvious antagonism. He is mockingly described

by Barrie as, "one of those deep ones who knew about stocks and shares" (Barrie, 2) and is

thusly held up as the condemner of childhood, an example of the pitiful and shallow

preoccupation with material things that accompanies a capitalist life. And yet, as Ann Yeoman

suggests in her work, "Now or Neverland, Peter Pan and the myth of eternal youth. A

psychological perspective on a cultural icon", there is an underlying intimation to Barrie's work

that Mr. Darling is, in fact, the most wholly childish character to walk either the rooms of No.14

or the forests and beaches of Neverland. Yeoman highlights "Mr. Darling's childish tantrums

about his tie that will not tie and his medicine that he refuses to take" (Yeoman, 12). This,

coupled with his tendency for ill-judged practical jokes - "I shall pour my medicine into Nana's

bowl, and she will drink it, thinking it is milk!" (Barrie, 23) - sharply contrasts his apparent

desire for his children to grow up, "Be a man, Michael" (Barrie, 21) and his inability to

comprehend Peter's existence, "Pooh-pooh. Mark my words , it is some nonsense Nana has been

putting into their heads" (Barrie, 8). Mr. Darling appears to be a man caught in limbo, aware of

the societal expectations of manhood but painfully unaware of his failure to fulfill them.

Peter and Wendy is about the struggle between growing up and staying young (between

Peter and Hook / the children and their father) and yet, as the story begins, it is George Darling,

the figure regarded as the antithesis of youth, who seems the most fundamentally childish and in

need of maturation. Anne Jefferson, in her review of Jaqueline Rose's The Case of Peter Pan or

the Impossibility of Children's Literature, alludes to as much, "The Barrie text itself in fact

speaks, not to one child (the child) but to many different kinds of children" (Jefferson, 795).

Perhaps the suggestion is that, rather than a sign of immaturity, the refusal to conform wholly to

the adult world and to retain some sort of youthful spontaneity is, in fact, the enlightened route to

take in life. Perhaps a way to avoid some of the stress which may cause childish tantrums like

those Mr. Darling suffers, the conscious preservation of one's youth and imagination, or at least a

shadow of it, is essential to a stable adult life. As Barrie highlights, there will come a time in our

lives when we must grow up; the important thing is to be aware of this transition, and to hold

dear that innocent stage in our lives when all was true and nothing impossible. Barrie calls this

stage Neverland: "We too have been there; we can still hear the sound of the surf, though we

shall land no more." (Barrie, 7).

Two of Barrie's characters have this outlook on life, the narrator (Barrie himself we can

assume) and Mrs. Darling, "thinking back into her childhood she just remembered a Peter Pan"

(Barrie, 8). With this in mind, I would suggest that they are Barrie's preferred role models for his

readership. And yet, this is not the conclusion most readers come to. Barrie's message has been

somewhat bastardized by Walt Disney's 1953 animated version and it has become common for

people to see the characters of Peter and Wendy in shades of only black and white (adulthood

and childhood) determined and limited by their age. Thusly Barrie's good intentions have been

somewhat manipulated, the common conjecture being that the correct path to take in life is that

taken by Peter (so long heralded as the hero of the piece) and to refuse to conform and grow up:

"Peter Pan himself is the perfect emblem of the asexual innocence that children's literature is,

according to Rose, designed to uphold" (Jefferson, 794). Children fail to recognize the possibility

of being like Mary Darling, aware of her responsibility to be grown up but consciously still in

touch with her childhood. Consequently they grow up ill-prepared for the demandingly adult

world which awaits them, as Tracy C. Davis explains in her essay, Do You Believe in Fairies?:

The Hiss of Dramatic License, "drama has the power to make the improbable seem natural"

(Davis, 57) and thusly the world can seem shockingly real for children more accustomed to

Neverland.

This idea of children's literature misinforming it's chief readership about the adult world

is key. In an article entitled, Common Sense, Practicality and the Literary Canon the persistent

vilifying of practicality in children's literature is illuminated. While the article expresses the

possible ill-effects of such a wholly whimsical canon, the impossibility of changing it is also

outlined: "The notion of abolishing the canon (which no one seems to seriously suggest) is

impractical" ("Common Sense, Practicality and the Literary Canon", 2). The question must be

asked, then, why is something grounded in continuity and practicality (the canon) allowed to

continue championing free-spirited resilience and perpetuate the trend of ill-prepared children

who will, in time, struggle to come to terms with what's expected of them? In this manner

children, wishing to be lost boys and girls, are allowed to become lost men and women.

Again Barrie's tale provides a perfect example. While many a child may have suffered in

their adult lives as a result of growing up dreaming of Neverland, no tale can be as melancholy

as that of Michael Llewelyn Davies. One of three brothers who inspired Barrie's work, Michael

(rather than being the inspiration for his namesake, Michael Darling) was 'the real Peter Pan', his

impish smile and vivid imagination the model for the skeleton-leaf-clad marvel we have so come

to adore. Growing up under the joint care of their widower mother and Barrie, the Llewelyn

Davies boys enjoyed the idyllic childhood so many dream of, filled with magic and wonder.

With Barrie the constant catalyst for greater imagination and adventure, Michael came to excel

in the arts but, lacking a sufficiently grown-up male role model, he struggled to adapt to life on

his own. It was an abiding torture for Michael that real life could never live up to his

expectations or excite him as his childhood once had and, as he grew in to a young man, his

relationship with Barrie was, according to childhood friend Robert Boothby, to become "morbid

and unhealthy". Michael Llewelyn Davies drowned in a suspected double suicide just shy of his

21st birthday. In a chilling mirror of the character he inspired, Michael was a most wonderful

boy, destined never to grow up.

I must clearly state that I am not insinuating any blame on Barrie here: his sole aim, I

believe, was to entertain children and to inspire imaginations. It is just unfortunate that, such is

the world, where an innocence is so resolutely preserved, its eventual and inevitable tarnishing

will be all the more harrowing for the child involved. As Hook and his band of buccaneers

plunder and murder, so society robs us of our magic and murders what child we have left within

us. Barrie does in fact try to warn us of the ill-effects of a total childhood, highlighting its

impracticalities as Peter struggles to comprehend the real world. The very term "lost boys" must

also surely reinforce this notion and set alarm bells ringing for children hoping to follow in their

footsteps, and yet it does not. We marvel at Peter's insolence and at his refusal to conform, and

we champion his cause: "He will not be made to grow up and become a man with a beard,

business suit and briefcase" (Yeoman, 13). But there in lies the most common misconception:

that, in order to grow up, one must adhere to capitalist stereotypes and disregard all that once

made us dream. Again we must learn to see Peter Pan for what he is, an extreme, like Hook:

"Peter Pan, and all he embodies, belongs to the island of childhood that exists apart from and

invisible to the adult world" (Yeoman, 13). He belongs to a world where faeries fly, crocodiles

tick and where emotions exist only one at a time. Mary Darling, not Peter Pan, must be the

example we set our children.

To grow up and "become a man with a beard" is an important quote to consider. A

product of Edwardian culture, Peter Pan was born in to a world where facial hair was a societal

expectation for men and where women's suffrage was just an idea brewing between some

forward thinking ears. Bernstein explains, "At the end of 1908, Liberals were discouraged and

the party appeared destined for electoral defeat" (Bernstein, 105). This was a time when a man's

concerns were limited to his workplace and bank account, and where domesticity remained

chiefly the domain of women. With this in mind it is interesting to note Barrie's serial references

to motherhood and the implications if lost. As we have already noted, Mary Darling is unique in

her role as an adult aware of, and in tune with, both Neverland and the real world. Her

significance however sprawls further as she is lorded by the inhabitants of both. The only actual

mother we meet in Peter and Wendy and the incarnation perhaps of Sylvia Llewlyn Davies,

Barrie does not hold back in his praise for Mrs. Darling. He describes her as "a lovely lady, with

a romantic mind and such a sweet mocking mouth. Her romantic mind was like the tiny boxes,

one within the other, that come from the puzzling East, however many you discover there is

always one more" (Barrie, 1). Whilst Mary Darling is undoubtedly the hero of No. 14, in

Neverland a mother's care remains but a dream (the lost boys only lost because they are lost to

their mothers). Wendy promises to play mother to an otherwise motherless world and finds

herself in high demand. When she arrives, Peter exclaims, "'Great news, boys...I have brought at

last a mother for you all'" (Barrie, 83). The pirates, also longing for a mother, offer her safety in

return for love. Smee proposes, "'See here, honey...I'll save you if you promise to be my mother'"

(Barrie, 174). However, as we have already learned from the fate of Michael Llewelyn Davies, a

father is also vital to a child's healthy growth, so perhaps Barrie's contention is a need for greater

parenting. The facilitator of a happy childhood and a well adjusted adulthood, it is the

responsibility of parents to instill in their children the sort of imagination that will help them

navigate the capitalist world they grow up in without becoming "slaves to a fixed idea" like Mr.

Darling or Hook (Barrie, 176). They must help their children to retain a grasp of reality and

avoid becoming so disillusioned with the world that they come to despise it (i.e. Peter or Michael

Llewelyn Davies).

Peter Pan, the character, exhibits many traits one may want their children to inherit. He is

imaginative, inquisitive, spontaneous and without prejudice (except where adults are concerned).

He also showcases some traits we must strive to avoid carrying in to our adult lives. He is

impetuous and ignorant, as well as selfish and cocky to the extreme, concerned only with himself

and his quest for adventure: Barrie describes him as, "fond of variety," explaining how, "the

sport that engrossed him one moment would suddenly cease to engage him, so there was always

the possibility that the next time you fell he would let you go" (Barrie, 50). Almost pirate-like in

his disregard for another's last breath, James Hart, Malia Marmo and Nick Castle took this

conceited and aggressive side of Peter Pan and transported it to the real world. The result: a

businessman.

Mr. Darling and Captain James Hook, it would seem, are nought but lost boys become

lost men. Children of Victorian England, they were also raised in a generation cared for by

nannies, and therefore denied the hands-on parenting and education that might have preserved

the romantic parts of their childhoods. They are but mirrors of each other; constant reminders of

what the other would become should they swap worlds. They are men only in appearance, prone

to tantrums, as well as childish selfishness and desires. Hook, for example, rants, "'Fame, fame,

that glittering bauble, it is mine'" (Barrie, 169). Darling and Hook are a lingering premonition of

the fate that would await Peter should he, like Hook, remain in Neverland too long or, like Mr.

Darling, return to the real world and continue refusing to grow up. They embody the childishness

of capitalism; piracy and business exemplifying its potential to corrupt. They are but microcosms

of a greater structure with roots set in greed, selfishness, commercialism and the heartless pursuit

of greater monetary wealth. Harriss-White explains that capitalism is dependent on "the

deliberate attempt to order and mitigate its necessary ill effects on human beings and their

habitats," and Barrie moulds his chief antagonists to become a medium through which he may

highlight the reinforcing of such an ill-set moral compass in children (Harriss-White, 1241). As

stated earlier, George Darling is a son of the Victorian era; a time scattered with prejudices and

amorality. A subject of England, we can assume Mr. Darling grew up in a world where the poor

were afforded little regard, women were without suffrage and empires were formed on the back

of the unjust exploitation and enslavement of indigenous peoples. Where the wealthy white man

strode the avenues of Kensington garden - his pomposity only outshone by his waistband and the

arrogance with which he placed his shone shoes - all the while believing in his heart that he truly

owned the world. As Hershey H. Friedman and William D. Adler explain in their collaborative

article, Moral Capitalism: A Biblical Perspective, these were the notions of an antiquated time

which, if allowed to ferment, would pose a threat; not only to peace in England, but further-

afield. They point out, "A number of scholars had been warning the public that capitalism based

solely on greed was dangerous" (Friedman & Adler, 1014). Barrie saw these ideas being

reinforced in the lavish upper echelons of Edwardian society and feared the backlash of such

ignorance; society simply not ready for the stark realities that were crawling auspiciously in to

the public eye. George Darling embodies the arrogance of the capitalist venture and Barrie is

sure to highlight the shallowness of a life driven by "a passion for being exactly like his [your]

neighbours" (Barrie, 3).

Barrie's fear then was perhaps that, in a society so wholly segregated along boundaries of

wealth and creed, "there are at least eight ways in which capitalism creates poverty" (Harriss-

White, 1241). Children should not grow up in households that only accentuate the same old

thinking that created said boundaries. Rather than being taught "lessons in propriety" (Barrie, 4)

and to consider above all things their "position[s] in the city" (Barrie, 5), children should be

introduced to what Bernstein deemed, "the unifying power of the liberal policies" (Bernstein, 27)

and taught lessons in tolerance, empathy and fairness. It is certainly important to make children

aware of the harsh realities that await them in the real world. However, by preserving a child's

imagination and not letting him/her 'wise up' too fast, one may preserve the creativity needed to

change things for the better. After all, if children can imagine a world where boys fly, mermaids

swim and faeries cavort, then surely they may also imagine a world where women vote, poor

people eat and no man purposely profits off of the hardship of another. As described earlier,

children's literature is a key medium for leftist policy and there is no greater example of this than

the neo-leftist ideals which punctuate Barrie's otherwise seemingly inconspicuous children's

story.

Sir James Matthew Barrie wrote Peter and Wendy at a hugely pivotal moment in history.

On the cusp of a century of unprecedented reform and conflict, I believe he felt an inherent

obligation lay with his generation to start opening their children's eyes to the injustices that

existed all around them. By highlighting their inherent role as the perpetuators of such injustice,

he hoped also to highlight their ability to bring it to an end. In a chilling, albeit somewhat

implicit foreshadowing of World War One, Peter and Wendy culminates with alliances being

formed across Neverland and the whole island descending into a bloody and harrowing conflict,

which Barrie describes as "a massacre rather than a fight" (Barrie, 148). Perhaps more chilling

than any premonition of the war itself, would be Barrie's 'prediction' of a new type of warfare,

fueled in the allegory of Neverland by Hook's greed and intolerance of others. Where machine

guns, trenches and tanks replaced the infantry column and cavalry charge in World War One, so

surprise and improperness were Hook's innovations. Barrie writes, "The pirate attack had been a

complete surprise: a sure proof that Hook had conducted it improperly" (Barrie, 146) and

suggests that "What he [Hook] should perhaps have done was to acquaint his opponents that he

proposed to follow a new method" (Barrie, 149). As seen in World War One, Neverland's was a

conflict "with no policy but to fall to" (Barrie, 148). With no thought for properness or valor,

wars were now purely about the assurance of victory and profit.

Barrie recognized that, by the turn of the twentieth century, capitalist influence had

rendered the ideas of "good form" and "fair play" (both values central to the world of Peter Pan

and James Hook) outdated. The new world was one, "governed by a model of capitalism oriented

around strict principles of rationality [which] encouraged too much selfishness" (Friedman &

Adler, 1). Rather than 'grow up', Barrie hoped his readership may 'wise up' to this looming threat

and avoid the tragedy which befell the "redskins" of Neverland and ultimately the millions who

perished in the quagmires of war over the coming decades.

Selfishness -manifested through capitalism- was Barrie's chief concern for the world and

his proposed source of injustice. He offers his readers a warning that says as much: "Off we skip

like the most heartless things in the world, which is what children are, but so attractive; and we

have an entirely selfish time; and then when we have need of special attention we nobly return

for it, confident that we shall be embraced instead of smacked" (Barrie, 137). In an increasingly

selfish world, where capitalistic piracy was fast becoming the vocation of society's elite, such

faith, Barrie perhaps felt, was misplaced - a mother's love the only love that could truly be

assured. They alone possess the potential to raise generations of children who may treat others as

they wish to be treated and stem the tide of selfish, consumer-driven society.

Peter and Wendy is a taken-for-granted text. The inspiration for a Disney movie and the

home of the least practicable hero to swagger through the dreams of children; it's true message, I

believe, has remained prodded-and-poked-at, but ultimately missed, for over a century. What we

must take from Barrie's work and from the oracle of wonder that was his imagination, is this:

Firstly, if we refuse to conform wholly to all of society's demands we are destined to be lost. The

real world demands some level of maturity. One cannot simply act on impulse all the time as, to

do so, would see you lead a life lacking the continuity needed to either raise a family, hold a job

or simply cope with everyone else around you. And secondly, if we comply fully to the

conventions of our capitalist society, we are doomed to become pirates. As long as our greed and

consumer-driven lifestyles go unchecked we unknowingly fly The Jolly Roger. Pillaging in the

name of business, we charge our brothers interest and knowingly scam our clients out of their

hard-earned cash. But where there are pirates there are always fights, the implications of such

selfishness often terrible and far-reaching. Capitalist greed can break even the closest bonds and

has been the cause for conflict between brothers, between friends and even between kaisers and

kings. When all that is considered, you must ask yourself one final question, "Would your

mother like you to be a pirate?" (Barrie, 171).

Works Cited

Barrie, James. M. Peter and Wendy. London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1911. Print.

Bernstein, George. L. Liberalism and Liberal Politics in Edwardian England. Boston: Allen &

Unwin, 1986. Print.

"Common Sense, Practicality and the Literary Canon." 123HelpMe.com. 8 Dec. 2014.

<http://www.123HelpMe.com/view.asp?id=18315>.

Davis, Tracy C. "Do You Believe in Fairies?: The Hiss of Dramatic License." Theatre Journal

Mar. 2005: 57-81. Print. JSTOR

Friedman, Hershey H. and William D. Adler. "Moral Capitalism: A Biblical Perspective"

American Journal of Economics and Sociology 6 Sept. 2011: 1014-28. Print.

Wiley Online Library.

Harriss-White, Barbara. "Poverty and Capitalism" Economic and Political Weekly 1 April 2006:

1241-46. Print. JSTOR.

Hart, James and Malia Marmo and Nick Castle, writers. Hook. Amblin Entertainment and

TriStar Pictures, 1991. Film.

Jefferson, Ann. Review of "The Case of Peter Pan or The Impossibility of Children's Literature"

by Jaqueline Rose, Poetics Today 1985: 794-96. Print. JSTOR.

Winifred Schott, Vera. "The Peter Pan Players of Wichita" Bulletin of the American Library

Association 10 Oct. 1932: 768-72. Print. JSTOR.

Yeoman, Ann. Now or Neverland, Peter Pan and the Myth of Eternal Youth. A Psychological

Perspective on a Cultural Icon. Toronto: Inner City Books, 1999. Print.