“Faery stories are based on hope, not despair, and however terrifying the adventures while they are occurring, they always culminate in the happy ending.” (21)
- Verlyn Fleger Splintered Light: Logos and Language in Tolkien’s World (2002, revised edition)
- Mary Chase, Pulitzer prize winning writer of the original play[1]
“Well, I've wrestled with reality for 35 years, doctor, and I'm happy to state I finally won out over it.”
- Elwood P. Dowd, in Harvey (1950)
I haven’t seen Harvey for probably 40 years, and I had
forgotten much about it except that it features a man (played by Jimmy Stewart)
who has a big white rabbit friend; an invisible big white
rabbit—as I remembered. Having been gifted
a copy of the DVD at Yule, I watched the movie last month, on Eostre (which was,
I thought, way too appropriate),[2] and
was struck by its being a full-blown fairy-story!
Of course, you might say, it’s got a pookah in it; a pookah being an old fairy character from Irish mythology—so how could it not be a fairy story? True. But what I realized, this time, is how many fairy themes are actually woven into the tale. How it deals with Faërie[3] and people touched by it; and how, when Faërie crosses-over into our daily lives; so constricted by the routinized normal—it upsets conventions while opening eyes and hearts to Other-Reality.
So what makes Harvey a true fairy story, then?
First, on the level of the story as a whole, it has both – to use Tolkien’s terms –dyscatastrophe and eucatastrophe. For most of the film, Elwood (Jimmy Stewart’s character) is in danger of being committed to a sanitarium. Why? Because he is considered ‘insane.’ Why? Because he breaks the strictures of normalcy by talking to an invisible friend, Harvey by name – who is described by Elwood as a six-foot-three-and-a-half-inch tall humanoid rabbit. (Elwood is always very specific about that height!).[4] This threat to Elwood’s freedom fits the theme of dyscatastrophe; i.e., the unavoidable tragic end; an inescapable fate—the destructive end that cannot be averted. While it happens on a personal level; not being world-threatening as it in in The Lord of the Rings, for instance – it portends a tragic turn for the character; an end to his life as a free person.[5] It is unlikely to be averted, though in the end, it is; that being the eucatastrophe—i.e., an unexpected and unlikely turn of fate for the better.
As a viewer, I was led to think at the beginning of the film that Elwood Dowd is simply ‘delusional,’ ‘hallucinating’ his imaginary friend, and while that may be ‘abnormal,’ Elwood is a decent person with only good intentions towards others. He is ‘harmless,’ except that he doesn’t quite live in the ‘real’ world shared by ‘the rest of us.’ Elwood and Harvey go about town together, visiting bars, talking with people and occasionally inviting them to dinner at his house. This begins in the very first scene, wherein Elwood is seen leaving to go on one of his ambles. He comes to the gate, and here we see the first intimation of his invisible friend, Elwood saying to him, “After you,” politely leaving the unseen person go ahead of him through the gate. Elwood is, in addition to many other virtues, always genuinely polite.
Elwood meets a postman at the gate and, after a few polite words, offers the man his ‘card.’ Though it is refused, this is something else that Elwood frequently does; the gesture being often accompanied by an invitation to come to dinner at the Dowd house. Most of these invitees are more or less strangers to Elwood and, no doubt, his sister and niece. This offer is first taken up by a man at Charlie’s – a bar Elwood oft visits – whom he sees and, recognizing him, goes over to the booth where the man is sitting, there considerately inquiring how he is doing. He obviously knows him from previous acquaintance. We find out that he has recently been released from prison, for some undisclosed crime, but this doesn’t put Elwood off. He continues to engage the man compassionately; genuinely glad to see him back at Charlie’s and, giving him his card, invites him to come to dinner. The man graciously accepts.
A generous thing to do; inviting strangers to dinner—and in the context of the ‘invisible friend’ the gesture takes on ‘something more.’ This kind of generosity and welcoming to others is often associated in the lore with people who are fairy-touched; those who have come into contact with the fairyfolk and their world in some way or other—and who are thereby slipping, slightly, out-of-touch with the regular ‘real’ world; the conventions of which so often limit our sense of connection with others—especially, unfortunately, those who are not ‘like’ us. [Would that we could all slip out-of-touch with what is considered ‘real’ more often, if it would mean becoming more compassionate, generous and hospitable!] While Elwood is still partially in the ‘real’ world, he later avows to Dr Sanderson and the nurse, Miss Kelly, that he has “won out” over reality.
His having “won out” over reality may be what – on one level – is causing his sister Vita Louise – and her daughter – Myrtle Mae – to be so uncomfortable. As the scene changes to what’s going on in the Dowd house, Veta Louisa exclaims: “It is a wonderful feeling to have your relatives out of the house before the company comes.” A Miss Johnson – who had been hired for the day; to help serve at a Society Meeting – is then seen summarily quitting, saying she had encountered Elwood before he left, and cannot abide him! The ‘strangeness’ of her encounter with Ellwood has threatened to open-up the horizons of her normal ordinary world, and she flees before it has a chance to take effect. After she leaves, Myrtle Mae exclaims in frustration that as people are ‘run down by trucks every day,’ why can’t Elwood be so disposed of!?
Vita Louise and Myrtle Mae are obviously not coping with Elwood’s ‘delusion,’ in part because it has alienated them from normal society relations. No one comes to see them anymore. The Society Meeting for which they are preparing is an attempt to ‘get back in the game’ of socializing. _While Elwood is out! Vita Louise is hoping that the meeting will begin to restore their reputation and possibly lead to Myrtle Mae finding a suitable husband. If only Elwood does not come back! Which he does, of course_ disrupting the gathering and introducing a couple of the ladies to Harvey_ which prompts everyone to leave the Dowd house! Veta and Myrtle Mae are so fed-up with Elwood’s mental illness that they are ready to ‘put him away’ – which they do try and do in the second act.
I felt for Elwood immediately, as this scene exemplifies how people living in an unquestioned and narrow-horizoned ‘normal’ are so often unable to handle anything that threatens their familiarity with ‘the way things should be’ and rousts them into aversion and fear, if not worse. At this point, however, I wasn’t expecting anything other than the story and plight of a kind man with an active and very vivid Creative Imagination. I was assuming the six-foot rabbit (“excuse me,” Elwood would break-in, “six-foot-three-and-a-half inch”) with whom he appears to converse and walk about town with to simply be an illusion; a projected presencing of an imaginative companion! I thought of Elwood as someone who had ‘gone down the rabbit hole’ (oh dear_ did I really write that?). However, very soon things began to happen that suggested – and later proved – another reason for the uneasiness of people around Elwood and Harvey.
Elwood’s sister and her niece are distraught. After all, no one really wants to take care of a mentally-ill person, do they? (_I wish it were not so.) And of course, there is an assumption riding just below the literal narrative level – that ‘they’ are probably going to kill everyone, right? Animosity toward the mentally ill is evinced by several characters, from Miss Johnson to the taxi driver who drives Elwood to the Chumley Rest Home to Wilson; the attendant at the rest home[6]—the assumption being, Elwood is obviously dangerous and violent to the point of murder_ beneath – perhaps because of – his calm, ‘controlled’ exterior! In general, in this story, ‘polite society’ (which is often only polite towards its own kind) has been offended; the unquestioned horizons of their normalcy having been challenged—'who can deal with it,’ the reactions of those at the Society Meeting and the housekeeper seem to be implying by their behavior (rather loudly).
This leads into the first moment of fairy experience that sign-post the story as a true fairy story! It is said that when fairyfolk are around, that there is a ‘strangeness’ in the air that people who are not fairy-touched can and do sometimes ‘sense,’ though they are not quite able to grasp what its cause might be, much less understand why they may feel ‘unalone,’ perhaps, or just ‘uneasy’ – in the presence of a fairy or one who is fairy-touched.
Elwood persistently shows that he has slipped-the-noose of social conventions; which is also a common theme in fairy stories; those who have met fairies or even gone to the fairyworld often are only partially ‘here’ afterwards; this being a kind of liberation. He is acting out of a genuine compassion for other people, regardless of who they are or where they have come from_ or even what they have been or done. This speaks to the freedom that sometimes comes with being fairy-touched or even visiting with fairies. It gets expressed as tolerance and open-hearted, open-minded acceptance of others. He interacts with these people, and his dealings with them throughout the story show him to be a man concerned with their well-being. His card – which he offers to a number of the people he meets – implies this openness to their being who they are. He wants to have dinner with them.
At the beginning of the film the viewer might think that Elwood is actually delusional, as I did, though in his case – as with Kris Kringle in Miracle on 34th Street” – there is no indication that he is violent or would hurt anyone. As the psychiatrist Dr Pierce from Brooks Memorial Home, where Kris lives in that story, says, even if Kris is delusional, he has a delusion for doing good, and, for that reason, need not be institutionalized. Here, in Harvey – as in Miracle on 34th Street – it is the people around Elwood that I found most in need of help.
The attempt to have Elwood committed is comically played out when Dr Sanderson mistakes Veta Louise – Elwood’s sister – for the person who is being committed to the sanitarium! This happens during her interview with Sanderson, when she admits:
“Doctor, I’m going to tell you something I have never told anyone else in the world before, not even Myrtle Mae, every once in a while I see this big White Rabbit myself. … he’s every bit as big as Elwood says he is.”
Veta Louise confessing to the doctor, in her exasperation, that she has sometimes ‘seen’ Harvey certainly may have a this-worldly, naturalistic explanation. It can be understood as someone involuntarily participating in the delusion of another; very understandable, as Veta Louise loves and lives with Elwood and his ‘imaginary’ friend. Yet, as this is a true fairy story, this is the first fairy moment; a glimmer of the presence and effect of Faërie on the characters. More such moments are to follow_ and once I heard this, I had to think back through the earlier scenes to see if there were any other such indications!
Veta Louise’s confession leads to her being committed, and to Elwood being brought down and released. Shortly after Elwood leaves the Sanitarium on his own recognizance, he is picking flowers when Mrs Chumley – the head psychiatrist’s wife – drives by, coming to rendezvous with her husband as, she says, they are going to a cocktail party. She stops to speak with him as he is in a bed of her best Dahlias; flowers that in folklore represent strength and resilience in dangerous or difficult situations. This flower’s presence in the story is symbolically significant, as Elwood is in a dangerous situation; though he doesn’t really reckon it—being only partially in ‘this world.’ The Dahlia is also associated with professions of love, so later, when he picks one and gives it to Nurse Kelly, it clearly symbolizes his pleasant affection toward her, which she experiences as affirming.
Elwood tells Mrs Crumley that he is looking for a friend of his named Harvey. Continuing to be polite toward Elwood, perhaps thinking he is an inmate at the sanitarium, she then asks how to recognize Harvey if she sees him, so she can direct him to where Elwood is waiting for him. A revelatory exchange ensues:
Ellwood: “You can’t miss him, Mrs Chumley, he’s a pookah.”
Mrs Chumley: “A pookah; is that something new?”
Elwood: “No, as I understand it, that’s something very old. … But Harvey’s not only a pookah, he’s my best friend.”
After exchanging a few pleasantries with Elwood; not quite knowing what to make of him—Mrs Chumley has her driver take her on up to the sanitarium. I would say that her questioning state is a first step toward a possible openness to the fairy-realm?
As Elwood leaves the sanitarium grounds, he has another affirming conversation; this time with the gatekeeper – Mr. Herman Shimelplatzer – in which he compliments the old man on his ingenuity in creating the mechanism for opening and closing the gate. Showing appreciation to others for their achievements is another aspect of Elwood’s good nature; and is applaudable whether one is fairy-touched or not. [Would that many more people might embody this virtuous way of engaging with others.] Elwood then gives Mr. Shimelplatzer his card and invites him to dinner the next night. He will be at least the second attendee along with the ex-con Ellwood met at Charlie’s! This dinner is shaping up into a very interesting event, don’t you think?
Inside the rest home, having resolved the confusion of who is being committed and who isn’t, Veta Louise is released. Back at the Dowd house judge Gaffney – a friend of the family as well as their lawyer – shows up saying he’s had a wild call from Veta Louise and wants Myrtle Mae to help him figure out what it’s all about. Myrtle Mae starts to make a phone call to the sanitarium, at which point another significant exchange ensues:
Judge Gaffney: “You know, I feel bad having Elwood locked up. I always loved that boy, he could have done anything, been anything, made a place for himself in the community.”
Judge Gaffney: “I know, he’s had that rabbit up in my office many a time.”
[Myrtle Mae gives him an incredulous look.]
Judge Gaffney: “I’m old but I don’t miss much.”
What
does his response mean? I take it as another
indication of someone who perhaps at least senses, if not ‘sees,’ the pookah. It is a third instance of what I will call a fairy
moment in the film; evidence of the realm of Faërie having slightly skewed,
perhaps, the judge’s normal, everyday world.
The judge does not say some version of ‘Elwood comes to my office acting
like he’s in the company of that imaginary rabbit.’ Rather, he says Elwood “has brought” Harvey to
his office on some number of occasions.
This may be the second instance of someone – other than Elwood – having
some kind of experience of the pookah’s presence; the first being Veta Louise’s
admission that she has on occasion seen Harvey herself.
Once this happened, I had to think back to the bar, where the bartender – Mr Cracker – (interesting name!) seemed to have no qualm about setting up a drink for his invisible patron. He even asks Elwood ‘how he is,’ referring to Harvey, and while this could be understood, and no doubt is, at that point in the story, as a kind-hearted indulgence toward another man’s delusion, once the reality of the pookah begins to be revealed, perhaps he, too, does ‘sense’ something; being aware of that fairy ‘strangeness’ surrounding Elwood?
Significant fairy moments then happen out at Chumley’s Rest Home once they realize it was Elwood who was supposed to be committed. The moments in this scene begin as Dr Chumley emerges from his office wearing a hat which he then recognizes is not his. It has two holes in the top that only prompts the doctor to suggest that its some ‘new fashion.’ The holes, however, could well be for rabbit ears! “Who’s hat is this?” He demands to know. This is a fairy moment. Something strange; not simply of mistakenly picking up someone else’s hat—but one with odd, suggestive holes in it! The question engaged me, sending me back to see the hat Elwood was wearing when he arrived at the sanitarium, and it is clearly a different hat; you can see it in the scenes when he is in the taxi after his sister goes in to commit him, and also in the scene later when he is speaking with Mrs Chumley. It definitely does not have two holes in it! Could it have been Harvey’s hat? If so, this is also the first physical manifestation of Faërie in the story! An invisible pookah leaves behind a physical, quite visible hat tailored specifically for him! Was it for Dr Chumley to find? And where was it? In the doctor’s office? _If so, perhaps Harvey has already begun to pay attention to Dr Chumley; a theme that, if so, is proleptic, playing out at the end of the story.
Nurse Kelly gets Dr Chumley’s hat for him. When she returns, he puts it on, but continues to hold the strange hat in his hands for much of the rest of the scene! When Dr Chumley then mentions to Dr Sanderson the ‘unfortunate case’ of the morning, he is told it is ‘resolved.’ Dr Chumley, referring to the ‘delusion’ of the patient, however, mentions the name ‘Harvey.’ At this, Mrs Chumley tries and break in to the conversation, which she finally does, telling her husband that she had met Ellwood, who was looking for a friend of his named “Harvey;” and that “he said his friend was a pookah.”
Standing there with his fingers sticking out through the two holes in the hat-that-isn’t-his, Dr Chumley accuses Dr Sanderson of compounding his earlier error, saying:
Like Judge Gaffney’s referring to Elwood bringing Harvey to his office, the way Dr Chumley phrases his accusation here could indicate also that there is a white rabbit? Thus, making this another fairy moment. Before Dr Chumley sets off to find Elwood, he says he wants to see how Ellwood ‘looks’ when he talks with Harvey. There may be a curiosity here, I think, more than just a clinical prerogative; owing to the hat and its implications—whether or not Dr Chumley yet recognizes it as such. Veta Louisa remarks to Dr Chumley that ‘they tell each other everything.’ Again, I had to wonder, has she been told this by Elwood, or does she somehow sense this from Elwood’s interactions with the invisible pookah?
The next fairy moment in the scene happens after Mrs Chumley, curious, asks Wilson “What’s a pookah?” Wilson; the hot-tempered attendant at the sanitarium—says he doesn’t know. Curious, she picks up a large dictionary’ and looks the word up, but before she can read the entry, she realizes they are late for their cocktail party, puts the dictionary down_ and leaves. Wilson, also curious, picks it up, and reads the entry:
“… from old Celtic mythology; a fairy spirit in animal form, always very large. The pookah appears here and there, now and then, to this one, and that one. A benign, mischievous creature very fond of rum pots, crack pots and how are you Mr Wilson?”
Shocked by the unexpected address, Wilson looks around, shakes the dictionary, repeats “How are you, Mr Wilson? Who in the encyclopedia wants to know?” and throws the book down. He tries to tell Dr Chumley about what has just happened, but the doctor is in too much of a hurry to go and round-up Elwood, and they leave together.
The next fairy moment occurs at the Dowd house. Elwood comes in, bringing home a portrait of himself and Harvey! How did the artist know what to paint? Artists are often said to be gifted with preternatural sight, or with having visions and being able to ‘see’ things other people cannot see. While a too-generalizing stereotype, could the very existence of the painting indicate that the artist may have had some intuition or imaginary experience that allowed him or her to depict Harvey in a way satisfactory to Elwood? From a naturalistic point of view, Elwood may simply have described Harvey and, not ever having ‘seen’ him himself, except in his own imagination, accepts the portrait as a good depiction of his best friend. However, given Harvey’s reality, and being a pookah, I tend toward the former explanation. After all, it is said that the pookah can be seen only by those who believe in his existence; and perhaps the artist is one such person?
Dr Sanderson and Miss Kelly, accompanied by an angry Wilson, eventually find Elwood at Charlie’s, apparently soon after Dr Chumley has left. They attempt to get him to tell them where the doctor is; to which Elwood avers that he doesn’t know. Elwood, seeming unconcerned with the whereabouts of the head psychiatrist, relates that while Dr Chumley was “somewhat frightened of Harvey at first,” that his fear turned to admiration ‘after a while.’ He then explains why he didn’t know where Dr Chumley was, as he had stepped up to the bar, and when he got back to the booth both Chumley and Harvey were gone. They left together. This is the trailhead of Dr Chumley’s journey into Faërie; having opened to the strangeness surrounding Harvey to leave with him! Did he have a ‘fairy moment’ in that booth with the big, invisible white rabbit? Is he now being fairy-touched, walking around somewhere, we can assume, with Harvey? The end of the story would seem to indicate that he is!
When Elwood explains that Dr Crumley left with Harvey, however, Wilson becomes infuriated, thinking that Elwood has harmed or even killed Dr Crumley. Wilson goes to get the police, leaving Dr Sanderson and nurse Kelly together with Elwood at the bar. They are both in a state of near enchantment as they talk with Elwood; a plausible effect of being in the aura of a fairy-touched person. Elwood then does his usual ‘magic’ on others, here prompting Sanderson and Kelly to begin dancing together; which closes the breach that had opened between them after Dr Sanderson was dismissed from Chumley’s employee. Here is another positive moment of Elwood’s fairy-influence on others; he often leaves the people with whom he interacts better off than when he met them. As they dance and re-affirm their affection for one another, however, Elwood calmly gets up and leaves.
Seeing him leave, Sanderson and Nurse Kelly follow him out into the alley, where he tells them how he met Harvey; a story that has deep fairy resonance! Elwood says he was helping an inebriated friend get into a cab, when he saw this strange humanoid rabbit standing by a lamppost. Ellwood says he suggested the name “Harvey’ to the pookah, who then agreed that it was, actually, his name. Naming a fairy friend, when the name is accepted by the fairy, is something which may bind the mortal to the immortal being. After this they decided to go home together. Harvey has been Elwood’s boon companion ever since. It is during this discussion that Dr Sanderson says (admits?) to Elwood: “You know, Dowd, we all misplace reality, sooner or later.” To which Elwood responds: “Well, I've wrestled with reality for 35 years, Doctor, and I'm happy to state, I finally won out over it.” I was struck by Sanderson’s generalization; not ‘some people’ but “we all misplace reality.” I would have liked to ask him what he meant by phrasing it that way_ or was he now a bit fairy-touched as well?
This story resonates with so many others in fairy lore of mortals meeting fairies and being befriended by them. Elwood avers that he ‘doesn’t have much time;’ another characteristic feeling of those who have been fairy-touched, as they are partially outside normal time. At another point in the film, it is said of Elwood that ‘all he cares about is that rabbit,’ which admits our normal over-emphasis on ‘this world’ and its pretensions and obligations – which the fairy-touched can in part leave go of. Elwood also alludes to the enchantment others have experienced surrounding an experience of Harvey; how when they go into a bar together people turn to him and tell him their stories – “golden moments” to be remembered – “we enter as strangers” and after a while they become friends. He admits that after meeting Harvey, “the same people seldom come back,” though a few do. Those who do are no doubt more open than those who don’t to Other-Realities and people whose views and beliefs are different from their own. Such people do not flee from or seek to avoid contact with the strangeness that is actually all around us, all the time, if we could but have eyes to see it.
This all builds up to the final scenes at the sanitarium which bring the fairy nature of this story to fruition. Soon after the scene in the alley at the bar, we see Dr Chumley walking excitedly back to his institution, urgently demanding that Shimelplatzer open the gate for him. He is agitated, letting out to the gatekeeper that he is being followed! “By whom?” Shimelplatzer asks. “None of your business,” the doctor replies, trying to hold his composure intact in front of one of his employees. We know, of course, that he had found Elwood at Charlie’s and apparently ‘met’ Harvey, then left with him.
Dr Chumley is clearly spooked and, upon entering the sanitarium, looks back to see if he can see who is following him. Which he can’t, of course, because it’s Harvey! After shutting the front door, he goes into his own office, locks the door_ and then is frightened by witnessing the door opening, without being unlocked. This is another physical manifestation indicating Harvey’s reality. Startled and in awe, he flees via the window, setting off the ‘escaped inmate’ alarm.
Outside, Sanderson, Kelly and Wilson have returned with Elwood in their ‘custody.’ They meet the frightened Chumley, who quickly recovers his poise and avers that ‘nothing is wrong,’ walking very quickly back into the rest home, telling the others he is going to his office. But he can’t get in_ the door is locked! So_ Harvey opened the door without unlocking it!? [Like Marley in A Christmas Carol; another true fairy story—when he comes to visit Scrooge!] Wilson – who has gone around to reconnoiter the grounds, unlocks the doctor’s office door from within, having come in through the window through which Chumley had escaped.
When Elwood is brought in, Dr Chumley immediately takes him into his office for a ‘private conversation.’ And here we reach the consummation of all the fairy moments; with the doctor asking Elwood questions, and Elwood telling the doctor anything he wants to know. The exchange that ensued sent a chill down my back!
[Dr C:] “Mr Dowd, what kind of a man are you? … Where did you come from?”
“Where on this tired old Earth did you find a thing like _ like_ him?”
[Elwood:] “You mean Harvey, the pookah?”
[Dr C:] “Yes, it’s true, those things you told me tonight. I know it now.”
Elwood then tells Dr Chumley about Harvey’s various fairy ‘talents.’ He affirms that Harvey can predict things that will happen – which they do – and then how the pookah can “stop time.” Dr Chumley’s asks what this particular ‘power’ entails, to which Elwood says:
“Harvey can look at your clock and stop it, and you can go anywhere you like, with anyone you like, and stay as long as you like, and when you get back, not one minute will have ticked by.”
This is a very clear description of going into fairyland and returning to ‘this world.’ Elwood states this ‘matter-of-factly,’ indicating that hey have both slipped into the edgewoods of Faërie at this point. Dr Chumley responds – elated, feeling liberated in these revelations:
“Fly specks! Fly specks! I’ve been spending my life among fly specks, while miracles have been leaning on lampposts at 18th and Fairfax.”
Dr Chumley’s queries whether Elwood has ever tried the offer time stop, to which Elwood says he has not, as he is happy where he is in his life. Dr Chumley, however, has a desire of his own, which he reveals – lying down upon a patient’s couch as if he is the one being analyzed! – of going to a camp outside Akron Ohio with a young, strange, quiet woman, each of these adjectives being characteristic of fairy women and princesses. He wants to tell her all those things he never tells anyone else, and hear her say, “poor man.” He needs a confessor! He asks Elwood if Harvey might do this for him, to which Elwood replies that Harvey would have to say. He would not speak for his friend; and while this is a common courtesy for many people, in fairy-lore one should never demand that a fairy friend or associate do such-and-such; but should always ask, politely. To insult or upset a fairy can bring out their mischievous side and their playful tricksiness!
Another fairy moment occurs when Veta Louise, Myrtle Mae and Judge Gaffney arrive at the sanitarium. Veta says, on entering the reception area, “Oh good, nobody here but people.” Might this also suggest that perhaps she can sense Harvey when he’s around!?
The way of the world is always to make people as normal as possible; to force if not simply encourage them to conform so as to keep the illusion of normalcy from being shaken or broken. This motif plays out in Dr Sanderson having a serum – called Formula 977 – that will return Elwood to ‘normalized reality.’ Elwood considers it, but doesn’t want it, as this serum, he realizes, would deprive him of his best friend; whom we know is no mere delusion. Nevertheless, he agrees to the shot when he realizes his sister wants him to have it. Elwood goes with Dr Sanderson and Nurse Kelly into his office for the procedure. This now brings the story to—
The Eucatastrophe -- The Taxi Driver (Ellis Logfren)
The taxi driver who brought Veta Louise, Myrtle Mea and the judge to the sanitarium, enters and requests to be paid. The judge reaches for his wallet, but apparently doesn’t have it on him! He can only believe he must have forgot it at home in his rush? Veta Louisa then checks her purse, only to ‘realize’ that her coin purse isn’t there. She assures Lofgren that her brother can pay him. Elwood is brought out of Sanderson’s office – not yet having been given the shot – and makes his usual friendly acquaintance with the taxi driver; learning his name and the fact that he and his brother are both taxi drivers. Elwood pays him, tips him well and then invites him and his brother to come to dinner the next evening, to which the driver agrees heartily. These are now at least the 3rd and 4th invitees to that dinner!
After Elwood goes back in to Dr Sanderson’s office for the shot, Lofgren says, in response to Vita Louise’s explanation that Elwood is there for Dr Sanderson’s serum:
“Listen lady, I’ve been driving this route for 15 years. I brought them out to get that stuff and I drove them home after they had it. It changes them.”
When Veta Louise replies with aloof self-confidence, “Well, I certainly hope so,” Lofgren then gives a vivid and cautionary comparison of how such people were, before and after the shot. Before, they were kind, observant, conversant and they tipped well. “Afterwards,” he says, “they crab at me. … They scream at me to hurry. They have no faith in me and my buggey.” He then surmises, “After this he’s going to be a perfectly normal human being—and you know what stinkers they are!”
Veta Louisa is shocked out of her confidence by the revelation of Elwood becoming simply ‘normal,’ exclaiming “but I don’t like people like that!” _rushing to Dr Sanderson’s door, pounding on it, calling for Elwood to come out! Judge Gaffney, not knowing what to make of her sudden reversal of intention, grabs Veta and says, “You don’t know what you want. You didn’t want that rabbit, and then_” To which Veta Louise replies, strongly, “what’s wrong with Harvey?”
Out of love for her brother – as he is – Veta seems to have come to a reconciliation with Harvey’s existence in their lives, and doesn’t want her brother changed irrevocably into something merely ‘normal.’ She avers that if she and Myrtle Mae and Elwood consent to live with a pookah, what could be wrong with that? This is a complete turn for her from her earlier stance at the beginning of the story, her awareness having been suddenly broken open by the taxi driver’s revelation. She is taking-in and accepting the possibility of things she would not have formerly embraced! While open-mindedness and the broadening of one’s horizons – which usually results in a diminishing of one’s prejudices – is a virtue for any human being to aspire toward, here it is clearly inspired by someone who is now is or is becoming fairy-touched.
Elwood is released and they all get ready to go home. Myrtle Mae and Wilson have been standing together during the eucatastrophic scene, obviously enamoured of each other, and when Elwood invites him to the house for dinner, Wilson – who has apparently also undergone some degree of change-of-heart – accepts and says he will ‘be there.’ I thought a lot about his response and Vita Louise’s change of heart after the movie was over, and came to see in them a deepening of tolerance for_ and acceptance of_ those who are not ‘like us;’ whoever the ‘us’ would be.
Before they leave, Veta checks her purse and, finding her coin purse, has another moment of revelation. Realizing what may have really happened – she whispers, astonished, “Harvey!” Her and Judge Gaffney have each experienced a fairy moment; another physical manifestation brought about by Harvey—making it seem that neither of them had the money with which to pay Lofgren. If they had paid him, Ellwood would never have been brought out and Lofgren would probably not have been prompted to explain what the ‘serum’ does to its recipients. Thus, no eucatastrophe. Whether the judge’s wallet and Veta Mae’s coin purse were actually disappeared or whether they were simply made invisible like the pookah himself, each of them experienced a strangeness connected with Faërie breaking into our world.
As they leave, there is another physical manifestation of Harvey’s presence: we see the swing moving as if someone is on it. Elwood greets Harvey, who is sitting on the swing. He apparently says that he is going to stay with Dr Chumley; a sad moment—though Elwood accepts that if this is what Harvey wants, he wants it, too. Before he left the porch, I realized there was a full Moon shining in the night sky behind Elwood (As there is tonight, as I write this!).
Elwood leaves, aloned, walking down toward the gate. One has to wonder whether Dr Chumley got his trip to Akron, as he would have returned no more than a moment after he left. Harvey may have done it for the doctor and then decided he would rather be with Elwood as his long-term friend. Imagine Chumley in Akron Ohio, at a camp out in the woods, with a beautiful fairy-woman as his confessor! What healing might that have effected in the doctor’s soul? I find it interesting that he wanted to tell this woman – while spending two weeks with her in what would be but a moment in the Primary World – things he had not told anyone else. This is like what Vita Louise said to Dr Sanderson when she confessed to having ‘seen’ Harvey. Who among us doesn’t have things that they might sometime be redeemed of by honest confession in confidence with another person?
After Elwood passes out through the gate, we get one last physical manifestation of Harvey’s presence; we see the switch-handle moving, the gate opening, and Elwood turning and greeting Harvey, who apparently says he prefers Elwood’s company, Elwood returning the compliment. They walk out together, heading for a bus-stop, as the Judge, confusticated by Veta Louise’s change of mind after all she had put him through that day, had earlier taken the taxi home, leaving them to find their own way.
So for all of these reasons, I say this is a true fairy story; and not just because it has a pookah in it as a main character. It is a tale about the disruption of the normal by a preternatural existent; a fairy, specifically! It is a story about a man who has been befriended by a Pookah – called a “nature spirit” in the film – and who is his willing companion in life. This is all so very fairy! Mortals and fairies becoming friends is a long-standing theme in the lore! Elwood is in effect living partly in Faërie; that world having come to overlap the boundaries of ‘the normal’ – the accepted ordinary reality – in Elwood’s natural realm, transfiguring it, liberating Elwood in a strange way from subservience to ordinary ‘normalcy’ and the constriction of the mortal spirit by strictures that do not facilitate genuine self-realization. Elwood now acts according to the fairy ideals of Compassion—Generosity—Hospitality (like Nicholas in my Legend story[7]) because he is fairy-touched, and treats all people as people, rather than under the blinding rubric of “those people” vs “us.” He invited an ex-con, a taxi driver and his brother, a doctor or two, and a nurse to dinner—and possibly more people. Imagine that!
What an ‘Alice’ (i.e., “in Wonderland”) dinner that might be![8]
I felt, at the end of the story, that Veta Louise and Myrtle Mae would now become more accepting of Elwood and Harvey, and treat them better, too, growing into a deeper appreciation of them and who they are. That next night, when the invitees showed up, I believe, they would no doubt have had a wonderful evening together. After their acceptance of the Pookah in their lives, Veta Louise and Myrtle Mae might well gather to themselves better – and more interesting – friends than those stuffy women of the ‘Society Club’ who were there at the beginning. [Not to say that those women could not come under fairy-influence as well and be loosed of their societally-inculcated bonds). That would be a real fairy ending! This film is urging us that people can learn to respect and accept one another.
I imagined an ending to the movie (which wasn’t filmed) with everyone at the Dowd House; people from various walks of life—being brought together and under the influence of Faërie! Wouldn’t that be wonderful! I also imagined that Veta Louise and Myrtle Mae need not be so concerned about her ‘coming out’ in society and finding a husband, as she and Wilson have hit-it-off. As Wilson is invited to the dinner, I imagine him sitting with Myrtle Mae, perhaps hearing the stories – glad, sad or traumatic – of the other people at the table, Harvey’s presence making it a safe place for such deep communion between strangers to be possible. My hope is that Wilson would become fairy-touched along with the rest of the staff from Chumley’s Rest Home who are present at the dinner – including Dr Chumley; and that in future he may have a more compassionate, accepting way of treating those committed to the institution.
Perhaps this is but a fairy-dream; and this film but a fairy fiction—yet I aver it is one worth dreaming. Because in Dreams such as this we may see the things that could well inspire us to live a better life and help inspire others toward a better life as well.
So mote it be. Amen.
finis
[1] Quote found on the website: https://www.irishamerica.com/2016/10/mary-chase-the-woman-behind-harvey/ referencing an interview “toward the end of her life” in Toronto for the CBC.
[2] Eostre is the name given to the first Full Moon after the Vernal Equinox. She was an Anglo-Saxon goddess of the Vernaltides, feasts and celebrations being held during March – called Eosturmonath. In the Paganism to which I was introduced in the 1970’s she is associated with the pookah, who is her ‘companion’ and consort during the Vernal Equinox celebrations. If you want to know more about the Pookah, see my blog “Drumming up the Pookah” (25 March 24)
[3] Faërie – (pronounced “Fay-er-ie) = “the place and the practice, the essential quality, of enchantment.” (23, Fleger, 2002) And also, in Verlyn Fleger’s A Question of Time: J R R Tolkien;s Road to Faërie (1997): “He called it Faërie, by which he meant both a spell cast and the altered and chanted state the spell produced.” (p. 2)
[4] This is almost my height, though I am not a rabbit.
[5] Tolkien’s primary example of a dyscatastrophe is the story of Beowulf, whose final confrontation with a monster could not be avoided, and yet could not be survived. Tolkien’s translation is engaging and well-worth the read.
[6] Later, at Charlie’s, Wilson laments, after they realize that Dr Chumley’s location cannot be determined for the last four hours since he was last seen, “Poor Dr Chumley may be layin’ in an alley in a pool of blood.”
[7] “The Legend of Nicholas and the Elves” – a version of which published as the centerpiece of Heart and Hearth (2008) and another, longer version which I hope to publish as a separate ‘novella.’
[8] The allusions to – and resonances with – Lewis Carroll’s Alice stories are hard to miss in this film.
