Introduction
As well as being a (hopefully entertaining) Victorian-style fable concerning a talking rabbit and a spoilt young aristocrat, this novella is intended as an allegory of the philosophy of Friedrich Schiller, particularly his ideas on the play drive as outlined in his “Letters on the Aesthetical Education of Man”.
The novella elaborates on Schiller’s central concepts through character and symbol. Percy represents the sensuous impulse operating without rational constraint—Schiller’s “savagery”, while Cecil embodies the formal impulse divorced from sensuous intuition—”barbarism.” Their conflict and Cecil’s ultimate transformation dramatize Schiller’s argument that only aesthetic education—the integration of sense and reason through beauty—creates fully human, morally capable beings.
My hope is that through it, greater knowledge of Schiller’s idea of aesthetic education may be promulgated. I believe Schiller’s philosophy to be of great contemporary relevance, and it dovetails with my interests and concerns as expessed in the book Technoethics.
I provide below a study guide and accompanying slide deck for the book, which are aimed particularly at book clubs and educators interested both in Schiller and philosophical allegory in general.
See below for an excerpt from the work (which I published under the name Paul Buckle), along with a free pdf and free supplementary teaching resources—a study guide and slide deck.
An Excerpt from Cecil and the Little Lord: The Impulses Collide
Cecil’s positive instincts fail to fire as, dominated by his formal “rational” impulse, he cannot find a logical flaw in the little lord’s plan. Here, both the savagery of the little lord, who cares only for sugar cubes and the barbarism that can result from blinded reason are on display.
(This piece of dialogue is particularly central to the plot and the philosophical ideas explored in the text and may therefore be of special interest to educators and book clubs. Also, see the teaching resources below).
“I told you. Did I not tell you, rabbit? Oh, horrid witch. How she cast her spell! Did you mark the sneer as she said your name, the black glint in her eye. Did you mark it?”
Cecil had to admit he had not marked anything of the sort.
“She seemed like a nice lady.”
“Oh, Neville!”
“Cecil.”
“Indeed, yes. Forgive me, rabbit. My mind is fraught with the machinations of this wily medusa. She is becoming ever subtler and more dangerous. I fear your kind anchor should be lifted by her charm and you become unmoored from our noble harbour and lost to her seas. As for me, I expect I will end up in the cellar with the rats. No doubt she would like to feed me to them. I can see it in her eyes. Is all lost? Is all lost? Oh, I despair!”
“Well…” Cecil started, about to suggest that the little lord might be overdoing it.
But the boy anticipated him. “Well? Well? You will leave me to her, won’t you? I can sense it. Oh, cruel and empty world where friendship expires in trickery and lies! If I cannot trust our bond, I may as well be fed to the rats, for my soul will be consumed in hopelessness! Oh, loneliness, oh, misery… oh…”
The little lord paused here, having run out of quotes from his books, and decided what he really ought to do was to cry. And so, with great effort, he placed his hands over his face and imagined the most horrific eventuality he could conjure—a world entirely absent of sugar cubes. Within moments, he was relieved to note that tears were streaming down his face. He removed his hands and presented the wet mess to Cecil.
“I will honour my promise,” Cecil sighed after a moment. “But what shall be done?”