Richard Richard — Reading Companion

The Art of the Unspoken Bargain

The excerpts reveal a recurring interest in transactions that are not quite financial. Richard borrows money from a woman he has just met, and later, Phœbe Norris trades a cotton bathing suit for a Norfolk jacket, calling it a 'good bargain.' These exchanges are presented without moral judgment; instead, they highlight a pragmatic, almost playful approach to social and material exchange. The narrative voice treats these bargains as natural, even amusing, rather than deceitful.

This pattern extends to the way characters assess one another. Phœbe, for instance, sizes up Richard by his swimming stroke and his silence, concluding that his 'silence had put a spell on her cabin.' The novel seems to explore how people read each other through actions rather than words, and how unspoken agreements—like the loan or the suit swap—create bonds that are both practical and ambiguous.

Swimming as Escape and Self-Discovery

Richard’s swim across Lake Keuka is the most vividly rendered action in the excerpts. The lake is described with geographic precision—'shaped like a mitten with a very large thumb'—and the swim becomes a physical and psychological journey. As he swims, Richard’s spirits rise, and he resolves 'to be true to nothing but himself.' The water is 'tonic to the will,' and the act of swimming allows him to shed his shyness and find strength.

This sequence contrasts with the earlier shipboard scenes: on the steamer, Richard is passive, lounging and watching; in the lake, he is active, propelling himself across miles of open water. The swim also introduces other characters, like Captain Wells, and leads to a reunion with Phœbe. The lake setting—Bluff Point, the cat-boat, the 'stately little yacht'—grounds the narrative in a specific, tactile landscape.

Voice and the Shifting Register

Mearns’ prose moves between registers with ease. The opening chapter uses a formal, almost reportorial style: 'An angular chap in proper steamer négligé lounged contentedly.' Later, the dialogue shifts to colloquialisms: 'Sure it’s a fine movie actor he’d make,' Phœbe says, affecting an Irish brogue. The narrative voice also includes literary allusions, as when Richard quotes Matthew Arnold: 'Resolve to be thyself.'

This variety suggests a narrator who is both detached and playful, capable of shifting from observation to interior monologue. The excerpts also show a fondness for naming—'Sago-ye-wat-ha,' 'Tshoti-non-da-waga'—which hints at a broader interest in place and language. The tone is never sentimental; even moments of introspection are undercut by dry humor, as when Phœbe wonders if she is suffering from 'a guilty conscience or a desire to gad.'

Readers may find it useful to attend to the novel’s treatment of money and obligation. The opening loan is never mentioned again in the excerpts, but it establishes a dynamic of unspoken debt that may recur. Similarly, the swim—a literal and figurative crossing—may signal a pattern of movement and return. The novel’s title, Richard Richard, suggests a doubling or self-reflection that the excerpts only begin to explore.

There’s something about Richard’s borrowed time on that steamer, the way he drifts between other people’s stories, that stays with you long after. Reading it made me think of another quiet journey, two boys finding their own precarious footing in Left to Themselves: Being the Ordeal of Philip and Gerald — Edition Insights. Odd, how those old books understand solitude and company as one thing.