A Month in the Country

Birkin admits he seldom engages Moon in chatter during what quickly becomes a daily ritual of morning tea—after all, he says, all he has to share are “nerves shot to pieces, wife gone, dead broke” (34). Instead, Birkin commits himself increasingly to the work of uncovering the mural. In the first few days, he recovers what he is sure is the figure of Christ, bearded and robed in blue vestments, standing at the apex of the mural. He is convinced more than ever the mural depicts the Last Judgment, and here is that Christ—not the tender and merciful Christ, but the judgmental, “threatening” Christ (33). Even as he works to recover mere bits from under the layers of whitewash, Birkin feels a kinship with the painter himself, even talking to the artist across the long dead centuries. The world outside the church becomes like a dream to him. The painting, slowly emerging under his patient care, is more real to him.

Kathy Ellerbeck, the 14-year-old daughter of the stationmaster, visits for the first time. Birkin enjoys the company—he finds the girl’s irrepressible joy therapeutic. He even recalls her smiling moon-face that he noticed when he first arrived.