“the footsteps of Nimrod”
The opening paragraph engages an artfully constructed allusive metaphor to explain “the compelling motive” behind Mrs. Packletide’s precipitous decision to kill a tiger by framing that decision as following in “the footsteps of Nimrod.” While modern vernacular has co-opted lower-case nimrod as a synonym for a nerd of the Poindexter variety, the reference here is Biblical. Nimrod was a great-grandson of Noah described as “mighty hunter.”
The Shootist
The whole thing is a sham. Well, not the whole thing, but much of it. Mrs. Packletide does shoot a rifle and a tiger dies as a result and while that qualifies the later story that she tells about the event as substantially more steeped in fact than Oliver Stone’s JFK, it is the details that make story even worth telling. One of those details being that just to lure the tiger to its living bait requires the hyperbole of metaphor:
“A goat, gifted with a particularly persistent bleat, such as even a partially deaf tiger might be reasonably expected to hear on a still night, was tethered at the correct distance. With an accurately sighted rifle and a thumb-nail pack of patience cards the sportswoman awaited the coming of the quarry.”
Oh, that Clovis!
This short story is contained within a collection titled The Chronicles of Clovis. Clovis is a rather more important character in most of the other stories, though even there his role is usually as an observer of the central action. Clovis seems to strangely pop up in this story to make one bizarre suggestion followed with an even stranger self-observation which the story would lose almost nothing in the absence of, but it’s his book, after all, so his metaphor is worth some explaining. Suffice to say that Clovis is a tart-tongued critic of the very upper class society he inhabits, always intensely aware as only a 17-year-old commentator can be of the inherent silliness of his peers. Thus, his suggestion that these pampered, privileged socialites attend a “primeval dance party” wearing the skins of the beasts they have slain, he is making a sly metaphor on the congenitally unrecognized absurdity these people.
The Bet
When Louisa Mebbin finally makes her predatory move on the woman who employs her as a paid companion, the sheer unexpectedness of the source of this threat to her social status overcomes her normally placidly controlled demeanor. The narrator describes the emotion-laden intensity of this moment with a metaphorical allusion to choosing the horse on which to bet at a racetrack. It is an appropriate comparison as Mrs. Packletide needs to pick the winner because she’s betting the farm on the outcome.
"`No one would believe it,' said Mrs. Packletide, her face changing colour as rapidly as though it were going through a book of patterns before post-time."
Miss Mebbin
“Miss Mebbin” is such a mousy name, but seems to be deserving. She is paid to accompany Mrs. Packletide as a “friend.” While doing so, she counts every penny with the frugality of a billionaire miser. And she is has been loyal to a tee. But Miss Mebbin is not all she seems and she winds up getting not just a free tip to India, but a free weekend cottage out being not quite as loyal as she seems, but more than loyal enough. She dubs her new place “Les Fauves” which translates into “the wild beasts.” Which is a perfect metaphor to describe herself in literal terms, Mrs. Packletide in sarcastic terms and the tiger shot at by Mrs. Packletide in ironic terms.
