The Celestial Omnibus

“‘Dear Mr. Bons, we aren’t such Philistines as that. Two at the least. One a wedding present, and the other, smaller print, in one of the spare rooms.’

‘I believe we have seven Shelleys,’ said Mr. Bons, with a slow smile.”

Though the boy’s mother attempts to establish intellectual parity with Mr. Bons, her response only convinces him of her “inferiority.” In admitting the family only owns a few volumes of Romantic poet Percy Bysshe Shelley’s work, she belies disinterest in Shelley. Mr. Bons recognizes an opportunity to assert intellectual superiority, but ultimately shows a shared weakness for pretense.

“After No. 39 the quality of the houses dropped very suddenly, and 64 had not even a separate servants’ entrance. But at the present moment the whole road looked rather pretty, for the sun had just set in splendour, and the inequalities of rent were drowned in a saffron afterglow.”

This quote expands on the boy’s neighborhood’s class discrepancies. The boy is aware of these discrepancies and sees them reflected in architectural styles. However, he is nevertheless sensitive to the sunset’s power, admitting beauty transcends classism.

“[That] wonderful cutting which has drawn to itself the whole beauty out of Surbiton, and clad itself, like any Alpine valley, with the glory of the fir and the silver birch and the primrose. It was this cutting that had first stirred desires within the boy—desires for something just a little different.”

Forster’s emphasis on natural beauty recalls the Romantic literary movement, which often showcased such beauty. The boy has no concept of Romanticism, but is nevertheless inspired by its values.

“Oh, how his father laughed! ‘Poor, poor Popsey!’ he cried. ‘Diddums! Diddums! Diddums think he’d walky-palky up to Evvink!’”

Upon finding the boy investigating the neighborhood’s “To Heaven” signpost, the boy’s father mocks the pursuit. His colloquial rendering of the word “Heaven” (“Evvink”) underscores his irreverence and skepticism of poetry.

“‘Mr. Browne, I’ve left my purse behind. I’ve not got a penny. I can’t pay for the ticket. Will you take my watch, please? I am in the most awful hole.’

‘Tickets on this line,’ said the driver, ‘whether single or return, can be purchased by coinage from no terrene mint.’”

After the boy is handed a return ticket for the omnibus, he realizes he is unable to pay. However, his driver, Sir Thomas Browne, insists earthly money is of no consequence. This principle hints at the irrelevance of class in artistic pursuits, and encourages the boy to think beyond such limitations. As Forster will further explicate, an innocent heart is of more significance than coin or pretension.

“‘As a healer of bodies I had scant success, and several score of my patients preceded me. But as a healer of the spirit, I have succeeded beyond my hopes and my deserts…the queasy soul was ofttimes tempted to sip and be refreshed.’

‘If the sun sets with trees in front of it, and you suddenly come strange all over, is that a queasy soul?’”

In evaluating his career, 17th-century British author Sir Thomas Browne separates the body and soul, suggesting the latter’s superior potential. He emphasizes truth over artifice, giving shape to Forster’s criticism of intellectual elitism. When the boy is able to connect with Sir Thomas, despite unfamiliarity with his work, he exhibits artistic intuition.

“The boy was in disgrace. He sat locked up in the nursery of Agathox Lodge, learning poetry for a punishment.”

This jump from the omnibus to the boy’s home of house No. 28—Agathox Lodge—disorients the reader, emphasizing the short story’s discrepancy between “Heaven” and earth. Furthermore, in placing the boy in a nursery, Forster reinforces his childhood innocence.

“It is odd how, in quite illiterate minds, you will find glimmers of Artistic Truth. The case interests me. Let me plead for the culprit. We have all romanced in our time, haven’t we?”

Mr. Bons pretends to be sympathetic to the boy’s talk of the omnibus, but his tone never sheds its self-satisfaction. In using words like “case” and “culprit,” he evokes a legal setting and casts himself as the boy’s judge.

“Because—because all these words that only rhymed before, now that I’ve come back, they’re me.”

Before riding the omnibus, the boy only appreciated poetry superficially—specifically, its form and rhyme scheme. However, the first ride helps him appreciate that which inspires true art in a new light. He now feels immersed in the artistic process, foreshadowing his crowning at the story’s end.

“But I thought of my mother and father, and that I must fetch them. Yet they will not come, though the road starts opposite our house.”

The boy recalls being tempted to forfeit his return ticket, having returned home to invite his parents on the omnibus. However, they do not stir. This inertia underscores their incuriosity: Unlike the young boy, whose curiosity sparks adventure, his parents are adults rooted to an unchanging existence.

“Oh, here is his name—Dan someone.”

This quote reinforces the boy’s unfamiliarity with literary greats. Unable to recognize 13th-century Italian author Dante Alighieri, he turns to the omnibus’s noticeboard and refers to Dante as “Dan.” This humorous scene illustrates the boy’s continued rapport with literary figures, his innocence.

“He would be very careful to pronounce their names properly, and to remember who knew whom. […] He would be self-conscious, reticent, and prim. He would never say he liked anyone. Yet when the Wind flew up at a chance touch of his head, all these good resolutions went to the winds.”

Under Mr. Bons’s direction, the boy resolves to “behave” on the omnibus—to replace earnest connection with emphasis on names and relationships. Mr. Bons conflates etiquette and knowledge with artistic understanding, but the boy, in his youth, ultimately ignores these restraints like the coming and going of wind.

“I have honored you. I have quoted you. I have bound you in vellum. Take me back to my world.”

Despite having just ridden the omnibus, Mr. Bons still retreats to the familiar comfort of intellectual elitism. He assumes Dante will be impressed by his vast library, but the author is unmoved. This refusal to believe the fantastical designates Mr. Bons as incapable of redemption and precedes his real death.