Basil Fawlty: A Tragic Hero? (the latest writing effort)

Not often that English Literature homework offers the chance to celebrate classic sitcoms:

Basil Fawlty: A Tragic Hero?

Basil Fawlty is arguably the world’s most famous hotel manager. He is also the world’s worst hotel manager. As the exasperated proprietor of Fawlty Towers hotel in Torquay, Basil has found himself dealing with, amongst others, irate Americans, troublesome Germans, reproachable spoon salesmen, deaf women who refuse to switch their hearing aids on “because it runs the battery out” and a talking moose. Basil’s life is played out before a background of unprecedented mayhem including disastrous wedding anniversaries, burning kitchens and chaotic building projects – all with an infuriating wife and clueless Spanish waiter in tow.

All Basil wants to do is run a respectable establishment on the English Riviera, complete with “a touch of class” and, of course, “no riff-raff.” Unfortunately for the Korean War veteran, despite his best intentions, nothing ever goes to plan. His car will break down at the most crucial moments, forcing him to beat it with a tree. The only time anyone asks for a Waldorf salad he’ll discover that he’s “just out of Waldorfs.” One of the guests will happen to die just after Basil has fed him a slightly-off kipper.

All this causes poor Basil a great deal of anger and embarrassment, often provoking the “bit of old shrapnel” in his leg to play up or requiring some sort of mental relief, like hitting Manuel on the forehead with a spoon. Wife Cybil offers no assistance as she will be too busy playing golf, having another haircut or talking to Audrey on the phone.
Does life in the hotel from hell therefore qualify Basil as a tragic hero or is he merely an incapable clown bumbling around in the wrong job?

Firstly, it is important to understand what is meant by the term tragedy, for, in order to be a tragic hero, Basil must be involved in one. It is a word thrown about an awful lot in today’s language; used to describe natural disasters, accidents or deaths, along with sporting failures or poor fashion choices. Many people, upon hearing the word, will begin humming the “when the feeling’s gone and you can’t go on” refrain from the 1979 Bee Gees hit.
In terms of drama and literature however, a tragedy is, according to A.C. Bradley – a respected English literary scholar whom Basil would gladly welcome into Fawlty Towers – “a story of exceptional calamity leading to a death of a man in high estates.”

Ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle gives a definition in language that is more confusing than Manuel’s attempts at basic English but states: a tragedy is “in dramatic not narrative form; with incidents arousing pity and fear.”

So is the story of Basil’s life a tragedy? It certainly includes “great calamity.” In fact, calamity seems to follow the hapless hotelier around – there’s so much of it it’s difficult to know where to start. Take, for example, the time Basil was found up a ladder peering into the room of a female guest (and subsequently fell off it) or the incident involving the health inspector and Manuel’s “Siberian hamster.” It could be argued that Basil is not “a man of high estates” and, thankfully, none of his bad luck results in death.

This being said, Fawlty Towers is a perfectly-positioned business in on of the most popular tourist destinations in Britain. Despite the rare occasions when a guest’s window doesn’t afford views of “the hanging gardens of Babylon” or the bath “isn’t big enough to drown a mouse” or “the chips are the wrong shape,” Fawlty Towers has fantastic money-making potential. As the owner of the establishment, does this mean Basil can be a man of high estate? Can the frequent embarrassments and losses of dignity, pride, reputation and cash be classed as a sort of social death?

The day-to-day running of Fawlty Towers is certainly dramatic – featuring fights, fires and other mayhem for Basil – or more often the ever-capable maid, Polly - to deal with. Watching catastrophic Basil’s life unfurl before us does evoke a certain amount of pity for the man, whilst many will feel scared about what the manic manager will do next – whether it be mentioning the war (again), hiding in a wardrobe or orchestrating the worst fire drill in history. So, as far as conventions of a tragedy are concerned, Aristotle would be a satisfied customer.

Having established Basil’s life as something of a tragedy, it can be argued that Basil is a tragic hero. The protagonist of any tragedy is known as the tragic hero. There are many characteristics to tragic hero, as defined by our friends Bradley and Aristotle.

According to Aristotle the tragic hero is a man “not pre-eminently virtuous and just whose misfortune is brought upon him not by vice and depravity but by some error in judgement.” The character must experience “a change in fortune…not from misery to happiness but, on the contrary, happiness to misery.”

This is certainly true of Basil who is not a vicious or cruel-hearted man – it is the pressure of running a hotel such as Fawlty Towers that gives him his rude and violent streak. Basil holds his values dearly; he is a believer in tradition and sophistication. He despairs at the ignorance and arrogance of his guests. Basil yearns for a respectable hotel where the guests share his views. It is these firmly held opinions that cause Basil to pre-judge or make the assumptions that lead to his misfortune.

Regarding a change in fortune from happiness to misery, this happens all too often for Basil. It is not uncommon for him to mutter “happiness? Ah yes…I remember that” or, in reference to the authority of his wife, “that particular avenue of pleasure has been closed down.”

On many occasions, Basil’s apparent happiness is converted to misery in a matter of moments. After winning a bet on a horse, he is dismayed to have to pay back the ridiculously annoying Mrs Richards after smashing her antique vase. Getting a great deal from O’Riley the builder only results in the dining room door being replaced with a wall. He is extremely pleased with his “superb” stuffed moose but, seconds after hanging it up, it falls down.

A.C. Bradley pioneers the idea of a tragic hero possessing a tragic flaw (also known as hamartia) – a trait, which “is his greatness but is also fatal to him.” This flaw is often one of two: a search for knowledge or a quest for pride (hubris).
As established above, Basil’s tragic flaw falls mainly into the latter – his life is a constant struggle for pride, respect and sophistication. It is Basil’s desire for this that causes the never-ending stream of calamities which make a visit to Fawlty Towers so…unique.

Maybe one day Basil will fill your briefcase with custard, or tell you to “go away” over the telephone. He might serve you “duck surprise” or feed your dog sausages covered in chilli. If you do happen to meet him, spare a thought for this tragic hero and his chaotic life.

Or perhaps you could find alternative accommodation.

Go deas. Are you doing a journalism course?

I'm a busy man, I've cows and a lock of young heifers (on their maidern outings) in the calving zone on the immediate agenda....
I haven't hardly time for the Leitrim Observer (apart from Courts and planning issues) so gimme 3 fast Bullet Points from that daitrabe quoted:

I don't wish to drag this issue to the Leitrim board for a full discussion, but if you can point up some relevant headings applicable thereto, feel free to do so...**

**Boxty is folowing RMD's directive to ECB Enunciate, Clarify and Bate(into them)....

For all his failings, RMD is cutting the cloth to the measure..

It was good and alll but a bit of stating the bleedin obvious look forward to seeing more shtuff