Chapter Commentary Part 2 of Brighton Rock - Study Guide by Graham Greene

Pinkie returns from Nelson Place to find Cubbitt and Dallow in his room. They have bought him presents to celebrate his betrothal: a tiny doll's commode in the shape of a radio set labelled 'The smallest A.1. two-valve receiving set in the world' and a mustard-pot shaped like a lavatory seat with the legend ' For me and my girl' (149). These gifts and Cubbitt's slightly drunken gentle teasing enrage Pinkie. 'It was like a return of all the horror he had ever felt, the hideous loneliness of innocence.' (149). In his rage, Pinkie says, "By God, I'll treat like I treated Spicer." (149). It takes a while for Cubbitt to understand what he means but, despite Dallow's attempts to hide the true meaning of what Pinkie has just said, Cubbitt realizes the truth behind Spicer's death. He is frightened and leaves. At that moment, Ida is comfortable in the luxurious surroundings of The Cosmopolitan after a 'bit of fun with a disciple of hers called Phil Corkery. He offers her 'a penny for your thoughts'. '"I was just thinking," Ida said, "that what we really need now is one of Pinkie's men. Somebody scared or angry. They must get scared some time. We've only got to wait." (151)

She does not have long to wait. Cubbitt goes to The Cosmopolitan to ask Colleoni for work with his mob but is refused. Ida overhears Cubbitt mention the name 'Pinkie' (it is lucky for the purposes of the plot that he doesn't refer to his erstwhile employer by his surname, Brown). Hearing this and with her characteristic motherly charm that seems to attract despairing men, Ida invites the disconsolate Cubbitt to join her for a drink. He accepts and she discovers, in him, a witness to the truth about Hale and, from him, Pinkie's plan to marry Rose. This most recent news stirs her into action:

'She said slowly, "The little fool... to marry him... why, there's no knowing what he'll do." A kind of righteous mirth moved her to add with excitement, "We got to save her, Phil."' (163)

She is too late. Their marriage is not exactly a romantic occasion. Pinkie is plagued with anxiety. He fears his innocence, his inexperience. He describes the registry office, '... there was a smell of disinfectant. The walls were tiled like a public lavatory.' (167) but there is no writing of 'strangers who wrote their desires on the walls...' (116). There is not even a reminder of the theory of the 'game' that he has never played and that he fears so much. His sense of inadequacy is heightened when he takes Rose to The Cosmopolitan as a grandiose gesture of the power that he dreamed to possess and is refused service. They continue to walk along the sea-front. Among the tourist amusements is a machine that records a short message onto a gramophone record, where tourists pay sixpence to record their memento of their holiday in Brighton. Rose persuades Pinkie to record a message for her. He grudgingly agrees and regards her as he thinks what he should say:

'He saw her as a stranger: a shabby child from Nelson Place, and he was shaken by an appalling resentment. He put in sixpence, and, speaking in a low voice for fear it might carry beyond the box, he gave his message to be graven on vulcanite: "God damn you, you little bitch, why can't you go home for ever and let me be?" he heard the needle scratch and the record whirr: then a click and silence.'

'Carrying the black disc he came out to her. "Here," he said, "take it. I put something on it - loving."'

'She took it from him carefully, carried it like something to be defended from the crowd.' (177)

The record represents, perhaps, the most fitting summary of their relationship: Of her trust and goodness, of his resentment and constraint, of her power. It is his powerlessness - his inability to repent - that makes him cry:

'... the Boy began to weep... the music went on - it was like a vision of release to an imprisoned man. He felt constriction and saw - hopelessly out of reach - a limitless freedom: no fear, no hatred, no envy. It was as if he were dead and were remembering the effect of a good confession, the words of absolution: but being dead it was a memory only - he couldn't experience contrition - the ribs of his body were like steel bands which held him down to eternal unrepentance.' (179)

They return home and with 'a sad brutal now-or-never embrace' consummate their marriage. 'It seemed to him more like death than when Hale or Spicer had died' but, 'He had an odd sense of triumph: he had graduated in the last human shame' (181). He has little time to dwell on such thoughts but it is with a