“Father’s a Cowardly Custard”: Peter Pan and the Crisis of Victorian Fatherhood

Through the Window or the Dangerous Boundary between Spheres

The narrative of Peter Pan revolves around a window: that of the nursery. Peter Pan’s story begins when he escapes by flying through his bedroom window, and it is decided once and for all when he returns and finds the window firmly barred against him. Both in the novel and in the stage play, the plot is set in motion when Peter enters the Darlings’ nursery through the window and takes the children away flying alongside him. While the children remain outside, Mrs. Darling awaits by the open window, and it is also from there that Peter beholds the joy of the family becoming reunited, the only joy that is forbidden to him. Before the reader’s eyes, Peter also appears and leaves through a window. The narrator first describes him when Peter startles Mrs. Darling from sleep by suddenly entering through the nursery window, a week before taking her children away. On the last page of the novel, we see Wendy looking from the same window at Peter and her daughter, as both rise in the sky on their way to Neverland. As Rotert puts it: “Peter’s personal story, mirroring that of the text, begins and ends with a flight from and return to the nursery window, the locus of his unresolved dilemma.” ¹² But what is so important about the window? Why does it matter for discussing the presence of fatherhood in this family story?

To start with, the window marks the boundary between the nursery and the outside, which makes it a great symbol of the boundary between the domestic and the public spheres. It is useful to bear in mind that “the Victorian separation of daily life into public and private spheres did not merely establish two discrete but similar realms. Rather, the values of the private world reversed those of the public.” ¹³ Hence, it may not be a surprise if the crossing of that boundary between spheres was not always imagined as a smooth one. In Barrie’s story, the window is not just a mere threshold but rather a barrier that offers different degrees of resistance. The Darling children pass through it with ease, while for Peter, it is either shut or can only be crossed at great risk. It is not difficult to see from where this difference originates. The Little White Bird narrates how Peter, after spending some time with the birds and fairies in Kensington Gardens, decided to return to his mother. When he flew home, he found the window open, as he expected. His mother was asleep, and Peter did not want to interrupt her sleep. First, he fantasized about his mother’s joy at finding him there when he woke her up. But soon he was overcome with sadness at the thought of having to give up his adventures, to such an extent that he decided to return to the fairies and the birds for a while, with the firm intention of saying goodbye and returning forever to his home. After many months, he flew to his bedroom window for the second time and he found that

the window was closed, and there were iron bars on it, and peering inside he saw his mother sleeping peacefully with her arm round another little boy. Peter called, “Mother! mother!” but she heard him not; in vain he beat his little limbs against the iron bars. He had to fly back, sobbing, to the Gardens, and he never saw his dear again. ¹⁴

Barrie reinforces the window’s excluding nature by the language used. He writes in the novel “the window was barred,” ¹⁶ and iron bars are specifically mentioned in The Little White Bird. The descriptive literalness of this use of “barred” later becomes loaded with metaphorical meaning. When Wendy and her brothers reunite in their bedroom with Mr. and Mrs. Darling, with Peter looking on from the window, Barrie writes: “he was looking through the window at the one joy from which he must be forever barred.” ¹⁷ The literal meaning of a specific fact (that the window is shut or that it is barred up) is revealed as part of a more profound idea: namely, Peter’s exclusion from family life.

But the nursery window is not only a barrier that keeps Peter out of the home: on occasions, it seems to be burdened with a more pronounced hostility. When Peter startles Mrs. Darling from her slumbers by coming in through the nursery window, Nana, the Newfoundland dog who acts as a nanny, erupts into the bedroom and makes directly for the intruder, who jumps into the street. Nana bangs the window shut: “too late to catch him, but his shadow had not had time to get out; slam went the window and snapped it off.” ¹⁸ As a result, Peter is violently parted from his shadow, but the text leaves no room for doubt: it was the complete child that Nana tried to catch beneath the slamming window. Once his entrance could not be prevented, the intention was to totally annihilate him or at least to capture him. Ironically, this descent into violence will prove to be counterproductive as, after a week, Peter returned looking for his shadow, with the result that the nanny and the mother feared most: the children’s disappearance.

The fear of Peter’s return is also focused on the window. The night on which the children escaped to Neverland, Mrs. Darling was struck by a sudden fear when putting them to bed. She made sure that the window was securely fastened and, when she looked through it, she felt “a nameless fear clutched at her heart.” ¹⁹ This feeling, as well as Nana’s violent reaction in the previous scene, seems to signal the presence of an outside threat to the domestic space. Peter Pan would therefore be a strange external force that could subvert or even destroy the intimacy of the Darling family home, against which resistance would prove futile. This is consistent with Barrie’s note in 1903 that portrayed Peter as “a sprite whom all mothers fear: of his drawing away children.” ²⁰ The author himself might have been inclined to this reading of the situation, which is, nevertheless, incomplete, as it overlooks the fact that Peter barged into the Darling family’s dreams before breaking into their waking reality.

Peter’s entry interrupted a dream Mrs. Darling was having in which Peter himself appeared. The visitor was not perceived to be so threatening in it. In fact, when she woke and saw him in front of her, she immediately recognized Peter Pan, of whom she had heard talk when she was a child. The narrator takes care to emphasize the previous familiarity between the woman and the child, by identifying Peter with one of the most intimate and characteristic features of Mrs. Darling: her kiss. ²¹ The children had also often dreamed of Peter Pan before meeting him in person. The narrator describes how Mrs. Darling inspected the minds of the children while they slept. In these inspections, she soon found the word “Peter,” which was particularly persistent in Wendy’s case.

Peter does not barge into the Darlings’ house suddenly, as if coming out of nowhere. For some time, he has already inhabited the children’s and their mother’s dreams. Peter’s was a threatening presence during waking hours but became a pleasurable dream when the family was sleeping. His comings and goings, his flights and returns, appear in a new light: the family call to him in their dreams and chase him away when they are awake. But not all of them play the same role in this cycle: Mr. Darling does not dream of Peter Pan and shows a strong hostility toward him from the very first moment. When he sees the boy’s shadow, he says it is nobody he knows and adds: “but he does look a scoundrel.” ²² A bit later he refers to Peter by crying, “That fiend!” ²³ It is as if the father were aware of an intimate opposition between him and the intruder. The unstable balance between the temptation to summon Peter and the intention to reject him finally falls one way when the family is in crisis and no longer able to keep the window closed or scare the boy away. This crisis, which is caused precisely by the father, marks the start of the plot itself.

The Patriarch in the Kennel or Mr. Darling’s Failure

Both in the novel and in the theatre play, the departure of the children is preceded by an argument involving the whole family. As a result of it, Mr. Darling ties Nana up in the garden and so stops the nanny from preventing Peter’s return. The father shows that he is aware of his guilt. From the moment of the children’s disappearance, he adopts an insignificant role, refusing to leave Nana’s kennel and being carried in it to the office. ²⁴ There could not be a greater distance between the dog’s kennel and the place of honor that is his due as the household head. His self-humiliation even earns him the contempt of Liza, the only servant in the Darlings’ household, who does not understand such absurd behavior. ²⁵

Nonetheless, Mr. Darling’s behavior is not as absurd as it seems. By ostentatiously renouncing his prerogatives as the head of the family, he seeks to acknowledge his fault and purge it publicly. In the eyes of his neighbors, about whose opinion he cares so much, Mr. Darling abdicates his paternal dignity as a penitence for having allowed his children to escape. But the opposite was actually the case: he let his children escape because he had been incapable of fulfilling his role as a father. The indignity preceded and caused the temporary loss of the children. This public display allows Mr. Darling to pass this off as a self-imposed punishment and to avoid it being interpreted as an expression of his deepest failure. This is why the theatricality of his behavior is so important. Mr. Darling tries to be forgiven for his mistake by displaying his grief excessively, to the extent that the neighbors begin to cheer at the passing of the kennel. His wife eventually asks him whether this really is a punishment or whether he enjoys it, something that he indignantly denies. ²⁶ His false penance not only garners him the social recognition he so craves but serves to present him as the perfect suffering father. In this way, Mr. Darling is publicly reinstated after his intimate failure: failing to rise to his role as father.

There is a passage which perfectly epitomizes his failure. When Michael, the youngest of the Darling children, resists taking his syrup, Mrs. Darling goes in search of chocolate to persuade him. Mr. Darling thinks that Mrs. Darling coddles Michael too much and puts himself forward as a model. When he was little, he states, he had to take medicines his parents gave him without question and even with gratitude, and sometimes he still has to take very unpleasant medicines. To show him, he would do it right that very minute if he had not lost the bottle. As the narrator explains, he had actually hidden the bottle and did not know that Liza had returned it to its place. His intention is that words alone should be enough to serve as an example, without having to accompany them with deeds. But Wendy takes her father at his word and runs to find the medicine as she knows exactly where to find it. Just thinking about taking his medicine is enough to unsettle Mr. Darling. Abandoning his previous authoritarian tone, shuddering, he speaks to his older son and gasps something that sounds like an excuse: “John, it’s most beastly stuff.” ²⁷ He claims that the syrup will make him feel sick, but Michael is inflexible and requires the example promised. In the scene, father and son exchange their roles: while Michael adopts the paternal role and demands that Mr. Darling abides by his own words, his father tries to avoid the nasty tasting medicine, first with pleas, later with threats, finally entangling his son in word games that only serve to delay the event. The following dialogue highlights Mr. Darling’s childish attitude:

Father, I am waiting, said Michael coldly.

It’s all very well to say you are waiting; so am I waiting.

Father’s a cowardly custard.

So are you a cowardly custard.

I’m not frightened.

Neither am I frightened.

Well, then, take it.

Well, then, you take it. ²⁸

It is Wendy who brings both out of this quagmire by proposing that the two drink their medicine at the same time. Upon receiving the agreed signal, Michael takes his medicine, but Mr. Darling hides his glass behind his back with a sleight of hand that does not pass unobserved by his children. They feel profoundly disappointed: “It was dreadful the way all the three were looking at him, just as if they did not admire him.” ²⁹ In an attempt to ingratiate himself with his children with a joke, he takes advantage of Nana’s distraction to put the medicine in her bowl, making her believe that it is milk. This only serves to upset the dog and increase the children’s disappointment further. It is then that, assailed by reproaches, Mr. Darling bursts out in anger and takes it out on Nana by tying her up in the garden, thus allowing Peter Pan to enter the nursery on that night and take the children away.

In this scene, we learn that it is not because of a mere lapse on the part of Mr. Darling that he allows the children to escape with Peter but due to his incapacity to meet the children’s expectations of him as a father. Looking to their father in search of a model to imitate, they find someone even more childish than themselves. Even worse than his childishness is the outright inconsistency that exists between what he says and what he does. Mr. Darling insists in putting himself forward as a model to be imitated by Michael. His initial words to his son are commanding and solemn: “Be a man, Michael.” ³⁰ Here, the father reminds his son of the filial duty expected of someone who will inherit his social functions and prerogatives. If Michael imitates him, he will someday be invested with the same authority from which Mr. Darling now issues his moral mandates. But his son refuses; in fact, he shouts his refusal twice: “Won’t, won’t,” ³¹ It becomes apparent that Michael does not see any model to help him comply with the imposed imperative.

Mr. Darling’s is an impotent discourse that proclaims the Law but cannot enforce it, not even on himself. When this distance between discourse and action makes it obvious to him that he is irrelevant to his family, Mr. Darling violently forces the facts to fit his words, by fulfilling the threat of tying Nana up in the yard. This show of force does not result from his certainty as to what should be done; quite the opposite. While Mr. Darling was dragging Nana toward the yard, “he was ashamed of himself, and yet he did it.” ³² The flight of his children is a direct consequence of the father’s frustration at not being able to fulfil the duties society had placed on him. Had he not felt this internal torture, Mr. Darling would not have felt obliged to impose his will at any cost, and Nana would have been able to repel Peter’s new entry. The quarrel between the father and his children shows a discomfort arising at the very core of the family. It is when this underlying tension explodes, and not before, when Peter is able to make his triumphal entrance through the window without any risk to himself. To fully understand this link between fatherly failure and the crossing of the window, let us focus on the role and position of Mr. Darling within the family.

Mr. Darling is the only married man in the story. However, his stable and permanent relationship with his wife often takes the form of a mother–child bond. As have been seen, Mr. Darling behaves in a more childish way than his children. It is even said of him that “he might have passed for a boy again if he had been able to take his baldness off.” ³³ This infantile condition of Mr. Darling is accompanied by his wife’s maternal behavior toward him. Before the medicine scene, Mr. Darling entered the nursery in a rage because he could not do the knot in his tie. His wife knotted it for him and immediately calmed his anger. ³⁴ Shortly afterward, Nana bumped against his trousers, covering them with hair. This trivial incident brought Mr. Darling to the verge of tears, but again Mrs. Darling put everything to right by brushing his trousers. ³⁵ Mrs. Darling shows this maternal care right at the time when the couple is preparing to go to a party. In the public sphere, Mr. Darling presents a solid and dignified front, but in the domestic sphere, this confidence is revealed as a mere pose, challenged by trivial incidents. It is Mrs. Darling who remains calm and in control at all times, allowing her husband to display the signs of power with her maternal care. It is she, and not Mr. Darling, who masters the arrangement of the symbol of his social and gender status: the tie.

Mr. Darling causes a dispute resulting in disunity in the family, while Mrs. Darling holds it together and calm. She pacifies her husband, tries to avoid the disastrous consequences of his tantrum by reminding him of the possible return of Peter, and she finally calms the children’s anger at bedtime by going from bed to bed and singing to them. It is she who really sustains the family, who really controls them and keeps them together, while the father only shows a semblance of power. We have already seen how his supposed bravery hides no more than mere verbal arrogance. The narrator hints that something similar happens regarding his business knowledge, another feature that should characterize Mr. Darling according to his age, gender, and social class at the time:

He was one of those deep ones who know about stocks and shares. Of course no one really knows, but he quite seemed to know, and he often said stocks were up and shares were down in a way that would have made any woman respect him. ³⁶

This form of maternal power linked to care should be understood in the context of the “domestic ideology” (in Laqueur’s words) that had settled in the United Kingdom and across Europe throughout the nineteenth century: “the belief that the domestic sphere is the primary arena for teaching morality and proper conduct, that this sphere is dominated by women, and that women therefore exercise enormous public influence by their efforts in the home.” ⁴⁰ An extensive literature was devoted to presenting women as the moral soul of the household. Industrialization had rendered the domestic space useless in the economic production process, and it had become fully devoted to the tasks of workforce reproduction, entrusted to women. This feminization of the domestic sphere increasingly challenged the old concept of the paterfamilias, burdening the role of the father with ambiguity and uncertainty. ⁴¹ There were still expectations on them to fulfil the role of patriarch and household head, and at the same time, the home and family daily life were put under the total control of the woman. Many men only allowed for submission to their wives at home and emotional dependence on them if the woman was conceived of primarily as a mother. Thus, the household head often took on certain childlike features and became an ambiguous figure that may be called, with Tosh, the “patriarchal child”:

The greater a man’s dependence on his wife for counsel and comfort, the greater the strain on his sense of masculine self-sufficiency, and the greater the temptation to compensate for this by the arbitrary exercise of domestic authority. Husbands negotiated this contradiction between dependence and dominance by relating to their wives in quite distinct modes. When asserting his authority the husband acted as a patriarch; in turning to his wife for support, his conduct was more like that of a child towards his mother. ⁴²

“Keep Back, Lady” or the Secret of Peter Pan

But it is not just that Peter Pan is able to finally penetrate the defenses of the domestic space when the discomfort of the family is at its highest: he himself must be seen as a response to this discomfort. Just at the time when the children stop admiring their father, a male figure worthy of admiration appears. Unlike Mr. Darling, Peter’s word is Law in his domains and he enforces it. He is vested with unquestioned authority exercised without any resistance by those around him. The lost boys continuously receive and obey his orders: “It was not in their nature to question when Peter ordered.” ⁴³ When this occasionally happens, caused by an error made by any of them, Peter does not hesitate to punish this audacity. ⁴⁴

As opposed to Mr. Darling’s, Peter’s words are immediately followed by action. To underline the practical effectiveness of his speech, when Peter is among the Indians, he uses to exclaim “Peter Pan has spoken.” ⁴⁵ Peter has achieved this authority through his own resources, acting as he sees fit and without imitating a previous model. Having fled his home shortly after birth to avoid becoming a man, Peter shunned the paternal model. To John and Michael, who had been stupefied by the unworthy conduct of Mr. Darling, Peter’s control of the Neverland island demonstrates that true power can only be achieved away from the paternal influence that is exercised within the domestic space. The way out of their disappointment is the figure of a boy who does not follow the model of any father nor wants to become a father himself. When Wendy builds her little fictive family in Neverland, with Peter as her husband and the lost boys as their sons, he feels forced to ask: “It’s only make-believe, isn’t it, that I am their father?” ⁴⁶ This resistance against fatherhood is strongly linked with something that totally differentiates him from Mr. Darling: his relationship with women.

During the late-Victorian period, men developed a “much keener sense of the drawbacks of domestic life.” ⁴⁷ The powerful presence of mothers in the domestic space was increasingly feared to be threatening the masculinity of adult men. Fathers felt more and more uncomfortable with the previous compromise of the “patriarchal child” for their own role in the family, and their fears were even greater concerning the future of their children. It was widely believed that children should be protected from excessive maternal influence that could fatally feminize them. ⁴⁸ It is exactly that fear that triggered the dispute in the Darlings’ house: the father believed his wife was spoiling Michael by giving him chocolate as a reward for him taking his medicine, and he urged the child to behave like a man. ⁴⁹ In response to this anxiety, between the late nineteenth and the early twentieth century a new type of masculinity developed. The previous more androgynous boy ideal was set apart and replaced by more emphatically virile models of conduct. ⁵⁰ Among other things, an idealized and romantic image of English public schools became popular. In an environment free from maternal influence, boys could develop the male values of the gentleman, which so efficiently served the cause of the Empire. ⁵¹ The spread of a new genre of adventure fiction that disseminated these values by exalting imperialism decisively shaped the character of the whole country. ⁵² In this light, just as boy scouts camps or the sweetened versions of the army and public schools, Neverland appears as a male utopia where boys enjoy their youth without any dangerous maternal presence threatening the development of their masculinity; until the arrival of Wendy, of course. There are indeed other feminine figures in the island (Tinker Bell, Tiger Lily, and the mermaids), but—symptomatically enough—they are all restricted in their speech and “the only agency that is given them is in attempting to harm one another to gain their love object, Peter.” ⁵³

But Peter himself, while embodying the ideal of a very masculine boy, seems insensitive to the erotic appeal of all women around him. This allows him not to have a strong emotional attachment to any woman in particular. Whenever a potential partner is willing to build such a bond, Peter projects a mother/son slant on the situation, thus thwarting any other kind of outcome. Of course, Mr. Darling also treats his wife as a mother, but the difference lies in the hostility Peter shows toward any maternal figure: he considers that mothers are overrated, ⁵⁴ forbids the lost boys from talking about such a silly subject, ⁵⁵ and tries to make them see that they are wrong about how mothers really are. ⁵⁶ After adopting the lost boys, Mrs. Darling also offers Peter the chance to stay and live with them. She stretches her arms out to him through the window and he flies backward while firmly stating, “Keep back, lady, no one is going to catch me and make me a man.” ⁵⁷ Shortly before that, Wendy has suggested that Peter should talk to Mr. and Mrs. Darling about “a very sweet subject”—that is, about her—and Peter refuses to do so. ⁵⁸ The rejection of Mrs. Darling as a mother is hence a mere repetition of that of Wendy as a partner. This underlines the identity between the roles of mother and partner, which seem to have the same consequences for men. As Nelson puts it, the text ultimately shows how “even female children are to some extent adult and dangerous, even adult males childlike and endangered.” ⁵⁹ To maintain his freedom and his ability for action, Peter must retain, above all, his independence, which he achieves by keeping his feelings toward women “under tight control” in “an all-boy world.” ⁶⁰ In the end, the danger for Peter and Mr. Darling comes from the same source: the difference between them lies in their different ability to face it successfully.

Peter Pan owed much of his success to his ability to embody a form of masculinity freed from domestic dependence on the woman, which seemed so painful to men at that time. This was explicitly expressed in hostile statements but also in a more effective and subtle way. On several occasions, it is made clear that Peter needs maternal care and benefits from it as given to him by Wendy. But he not only insists on pretending that such care is not needed but also denies any relevance to his subsequent well-being. In this way, he avoids recognizing Wendy’s work as caregiver and, what is even more shocking, he attributes the benefit to himself. In short, Peter makes every effort to make invisible the care from which he benefits. This happens from the very first meeting of the two characters. ⁶¹ In their first encounter, Peter is crying because he cannot get his shadow to stick to his feet. Wendy solves his problem by sewing the shadow quickly and efficiently, but Peter immediately forgets to whom he owes his relief and begins to strut the room, amazed at how smart he is. Once on Neverland, Peter benefits as much as anyone from Wendy’s domestic care, as she lulls him and bathes him in warm water, but he never credits her.

Peter Pan needs maternal care just as much as the other characters, but he pretends not to need it or, more precisely, pretends to need it only in play, pretending to pretend that he needs it. There is no real independence here from domestic care or from the emotional attachment to a female companion, but dependence made invisible, even for himself. It can be argued that this invisibility of care (a care that is taken advantage of) is part of the ideal of young masculinity in which late-Victorian and Edwardian men saw the solution to their anxieties around gender and family roles. It seemed inevitable that a man would benefit from female domestic care; the problem arose only if this became visible, as it is the case with Mr. Darling.

Final Reflections

At this final stage of the article, I hope that the extent to which a fatherly failure lies in the heart of the story of Peter Pan has been sufficiently emphasized: it sets the plot in motion and explains much of the figure of Peter Pan himself. Nevertheless, even if Peter is shown performing a more successful form of masculinity than that of Mr. Darling, he is not free of a sense of intimate failure either. The memories of his own mother are painful to him and, most tellingly, he suffers nightmares. His form of uncompromising masculinity appears desirable to Mrs. Darling and her children because it seems to settle a deep discontent around the paternal figure. But Peter’s unquestioned authority is based on the denial of any form of (motherly) care and, thus, cannot really enter the family sphere without being exposed as delusional. That is why crossing the nursery’s window involves such a danger to Peter; a danger that only disappears when the family is struck by a crisis, as happens with the argument provoked by Mr. Darling’s failure. The model of masculinity embodied by Peter Pan is ultimately doomed as shown by the fact that he can only perform it in a fictional world: the dreams of Mrs. Darling and her children, Neverland, or on stage.

From this standpoint, the question of Peter Pan’s popularity among contemporary family audiences can be addressed under a new light. Indeed, should the parents not have protected their children from the story of a boy that hates mothers and violently objects to becoming a father? How is it that a whole generation of fathers were attracted to a story that portrayed them in such a negative light? Not only did the stage play not give rise to any protests among defenders of the family institution, but it was deemed most appropriate for child audiences, who made it a success every season. Of course, the playfulness and comedy of Barrie’s texts played a major role in this popularity and should prevent us from taking its message too seriously. But, at the same time, there is also a dark atmosphere that is very peculiar to the Peter Pan corpus and Mr. Darling’s failure as a father is more important to it than has previously been allowed for. The character of Mr. Darling reflected a number of shortcomings that adult males of that time perceived—much to their shame—in their own performance of the paternal role: his comic figure embodied the difficulty in becoming a model of faultless manhood within the Victorian family. But it is precisely this embarrassing identification, which they wanted to leave behind (both for them and their sons), that fueled a genuine admiration for Peter Pan. At the same time and on the same stage, Peter provided an answer to this deep discomfort among men, as his figure powerfully epitomized many of the demands and desires that they could not fulfil within their family. Locked-in on one side of the boundary formed by the nursery window, fathers miserably failed to meet the demands of their gender role, and the story of Peter Pan enabled them to dream of crossing the boundary and, as Tosh puts it, of flying away from their domesticity…without facing the consequences of really doing so. This double message of failure and freedom explains much of the intense attraction Barrie’s work exerted on his contemporaries and provides a privileged insight into the deepest concerns of late-Victorian and Edwardian men.