To-morrow and to-morrow ... a novel

In Short

This novel serves as a concluding chronicle of a social sequence following the British upper-middle class from the pre-war years through the immediate aftermath of the Great War. It centers on the shifting fortunes and moral entanglements of a small circle of friends and political figures as they attempt to reconcile their vanished world with the harsh, modern realities of a changed nation. It has endured as an intimate, disillusioned portrait of a post-war generation defined by its restlessness, its cynicism, and the hollow echoes of the promises that led them into conflict.

The Story

The narrative begins on the night of the Armistice, capturing the profound sense of anticlimax that descends upon a group of survivors who have managed to endure the war but find themselves utterly adrift in the peace that follows. Through the perspective of the narrator, the book explores the domestic and political fallout of the years 1918 to 1923, detailing how the collapse of the Liberal party, the rise of new political opportunists, and the lingering trauma of the trenches dismantle the foundations of their previous lives.

The narrator, struggling to maintain his composure and his marriage to the elusive, mercurial Barbara, finds himself increasingly detached from the frantic, superficial social whirl of London. His wife, haunted by a past affair with a man named Eric—a ghost whose influence persists long after his death—remains emotionally distant, leading to a series of painful confrontations where the couple finally strips away the polite pretenses of their marriage. They struggle to find meaning in a world where old loyalties have dissolved, replaced by a cold, transactional morality.

The story progresses through the lens of a broader social malaise. The narrator’s circle, which includes the idealistic and crusading O’Rane, watches with mounting horror as the political landscape shifts. The ideal of a free, democratic society is replaced by the maneuvering of new men—opportunists who exploit the chaos of the post-war economy. As the narrator and his friends witness the violence of Irish unrest and the rise of social volatility in London, their optimism is steadily replaced by a grim awareness of their own obsolescence.

The climax arrives with the death of the narrator’s uncle, Bertrand, followed by the tragic, senseless murder of O’Rane during a riotous protest by unemployed laborers. These deaths act as the final punctuation mark for the era. The book ends in 1923, with the narrator standing alone as a witness to the destruction of the old guard. He is left to contemplate the wreckage of his generation’s ambitions, acknowledging that the peace they fought for has not delivered them from the shadows, but instead forced them to inhabit a world where their values no longer hold currency.

How It Unfolds

The Armistice silence The story opens on the night peace is declared, documenting the profound bewilderment of those who realize they have survived a war that has fundamentally exhausted the nation. The characters meet in quiet, strained company, already sensing that the moral reaction predicted by their elders is beginning.

The shift in power The narrator describes the political erosion of the old guard, where established figures are swept aside by a new, opportunistic class of businessmen and empire-builders. He watches as the "new men" infiltrate the government, treating the nation's leadership as a marketplace for influence and wealth.

The marital reckoning The central domestic conflict erupts when the narrator discovers his wife’s lingering attachment to a dead lover, leading to a brutal, honest confrontation about their loveless union. They acknowledge the failure of their marriage, stripping away the artificial roles they have played to satisfy social expectations.

The descent into chaos The narrative tracks the rising tide of public unrest, specifically the hunger marches that threaten the stability of London. The narrator watches his friend O’Rane become a target of the very people he sought to represent, highlighting the tragic irony of their political crusades.

The final silence The book concludes with the death of the narrator’s closest companion, O’Rane, in a senseless act of violence. The narrator is left in the aftermath, reflecting on the brevity of the era and the permanent loss of the world he once understood.

The People

The narrator, a man of tradition and cautious intellect, acts as the primary witness to the collapse of his class. He seeks stability and truth but finds himself caught in a marriage to Barbara that is defined by emotional bankruptcy and mutual suspicion. Barbara, a woman of sharp intelligence and deep, unfulfilled desires, struggles with the burden of her past and an inability to find genuine connection. She is both a victim and a perpetrator of the cynical game of social posturing.

O’Rane stands as the novel’s moral compass, an idealist who refuses to surrender his belief in social justice despite the rising tide of public vitriol. His dedication to reform is met with increasing hostility, ultimately leading to his brutal end. Bertrand, the narrator’s uncle, represents the stern, uncompromising intellect of the Victorian era. His death signifies the final closing of an intellectual door, leaving the narrator without his most grounding influence. These figures move through the narrative as ghosts of a pre-war certainty, each forced to adapt—or fail—in the face of a future that has no room for their specific brand of conscience.

In Its Own Voice

The narrator reflects on the pervasive sense of loss following the end of the conflict:

“Jerkiness, incompleteness, artificial reserve, an overwhelming perplexity and a relief too great to be expressed were what I carried away from the armistice; and I should think that most people in England experienced the same confused emotions and lay down that night with the same confused recollections.”

The narrator confronts his wife about the hollow nature of their shared life:

“You’ve never been in love with any one. If you’d ever known the meaning of the word, you wouldn’t have married me on those terms.”

What It's Really About

At its core, this is a study of the moral and psychological fragmentation of a generation caught between two worlds. It explores the dangerous gap between the ideals of 1914 and the reality of 1923, arguing that the war did not merely destroy infrastructure, but also the shared vocabulary of honor, duty, and social cohesion. The book poses a difficult question: how does a class defined by its traditions survive when the very foundations of its existence—faith, hierarchy, and political continuity—have been exposed as fragile or fraudulent? It is an investigation into the nature of "survivorship," suggesting that the cost of enduring the war was the loss of the ability to believe in the future.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate the somber, reflective tone of early 20th-century literature will find a deep resonance here. It feels like a long, quiet conversation in a room where the lights are slowly being extinguished. The prose is precise and dignified, capturing the subtle, often painful shifts in interpersonal dynamics that occur when a social order is in decline.

However, the book is not for those seeking a fast-paced plot. Its strength lies in its atmosphere of melancholy and its refusal to provide easy resolutions. The period-specific attitudes—particularly regarding class, the role of women, and the political skepticism of the era—are presented with an unflinching, sometimes cold honesty that may challenge a modern reader’s sensibilities. There is a distinct, lingering weight to the writing; the narrator’s detachment can occasionally feel aloof, but it serves the book’s intent to document a specific historical moment of transition. It remains a poignant reminder of how history is felt by the individuals who are forced to live through its hardest turns. If you are interested in the internal life of a generation forced to reconcile its past with a bleak present, this work offers a uniquely clear, if sorrowful, view.