We’re back, with another charity anthology review! Today we continue our look at the Ian and Barbara anthology, Mild Curiosities, with the third entry: A Restless Night, by Jeff Goddard.
As always, there will be spoilers ahead! I do this when reviewing charity projects, because these projects are generally only available for a limited time or in limited quantities, and because they get little in the way of documentation. Although I would not give the text away for free, I believe these stories deserve to be remembered, and also to be catalogued and accessible in some way. Therefore, I include plot summaries, which are naturally heavy in spoilers. (But don’t let that stop you from buying the anthology and appreciating the work firsthand! Purchase link is at the end!)
With that said, let’s get started!
I can’t give a proper plot summary for this story, and for a very good reason: This is not a plot-driven story. (As a result, this entry will be shorter than most, but I think we’ll accomplish what we need to, despite that.) Rather, it’s a vignette, a slice of life that focuses much more on the feelings of our characters. We find Ian wandering the TARDIS at night, musing on how it seems to change, and how it seems to be benignly conscious, always getting him where he wants—or needs to go…within its own corridors, that is. Outside, in the universe, not so much—but save that for later. He finds his way to the console room, where the Doctor is not present, but Barbara is, lost in her own thoughts. She is clearly distraught; when prodded, she admits to thinking about Susan, who has recently left the team—no, not left; was left behind, by the Doctor. The old man’s motives are sincere enough, and seem to make perfect sense to him, but perhaps not to his human traveling companions. After all, Susan is just a child, isn’t she?
Ian points out that he has begun to suspect that she isn’t. Mounting evidence seems to point to the idea that the Doctor and Susan don’t age like humans. Still, the girl is capable, and everyone could see that she was falling for David on the Dalek-ravaged Earth, and…well, perhaps she’ll be alright. But that begs the question—what of Ian and Barbara? After all, it was Susan who led them to this life of travel and adventure, and now, without her…well, Barbara says it plainly: She just wants to go home. “No Daleks or telepaths or dips into history. Home.” Ian agrees—“Back to foggy nights and rainy days. Marking homework and football on Saturdays.” The question is…can the Doctor get them there? And that, it seems, remains to be seen.
We fans, I think, have become a bit jaded over the years. Certainly we love this series, and certainly we still try to put ourselves in the shoes of companions of the Doctor. I think, though, that by way of familiarity we may have forgotten just how strange and bizarre this lifestyle would be. We forget just how stressful, how hard it would be to be spirited away with the Doctor. (As an aside, the modern series seems to be aware of this development, and has accommodated it; companions no longer stumble into the Doctor’s TARDIS and get whisked away against their will, as happened often in the classic series. Modern companions get a choice; the Doctor invites them along. It’s charming, and avoids the unpleasant specter of kidnapping. Even one-off companions usually get to go in with their eyes open, even if they don’t get the standard invitation.) Ian and Barbara, though, had nothing going for them, no invitation, no advantage to which to cling. They were, quite literally, kidnapped. We know that they later acclimatized themselves to the situation (a more unkind me might call it Stockholm Syndrome), and they—in a word—coped. Still, for much of their tenure with the Doctor, they were on the back foot, as it were; stressed, lonely, far from home, and without any real hope of ever getting there. Indeed, if they had relied solely on the Doctor, they might never have made it—let’s not forget that it’s a captured Dalek time machine that ultimately gets them home, in The Chase. (There’s a cute line in this story, which I omitted above, where Barbara says that she’d be happy with just getting close to London 1963, and Ian retorts “What, like London, 1965?” Which is of course where they ultimately land.)
This story captures those feelings. It plays them up further by its placement; this story takes place shortly after Susan’s exit at the end of The Dalek Invasion of Earth. It doesn’t let the impact of that story be lost; Barbara stresses that Susan didn’t leave (a distinction we fans sometimes gloss over), she was left by the Doctor, who is still very much an unpredictable and sometimes capricious character. (I’ve often theorized that the Doctor doesn’t really become “the Doctor” as we know him until The War Machines, which is when he finally embraces the heroic personality he’s been building. It’s pure speculation, of course; but if I am correct, I feel I should mention that that story is a long time in the future here, and the Doctor is by no means that man yet—though he is making progress!) Ian and Barbara are seen here at their most weak, most human, and most like the people we would really be in their situation.
But they aren’t hopeless! They despair—but only a little. Ian is, as ever, the consummate optimist; and he does what he does best, which is lift Barbara’s spirits. He really has no choice but to believe they’ll make it; after all, what’s the alternative? There’s no towel to throw in. There’s no such thing as giving up—what would that even look like? They must continue, and all they control here is their attitude toward it. It’s enough. It has to be enough, and so it will.
And so, they continue on.
There’s a lesson for us in that, but I think it’s obvious, and I won’t hammer it home; I’ll simply point out its existence. Consider it one more reason to buy the book and read it—yes, even this short-but-poignant story. Perhaps especially this story.
Next time: Doctor Who in a Very Exciting Adventure with the Eater of Worlds, by William J. Martin! See you there.
Mild Curiosities is published in support of Breast Cancer Now, the UK’s largest breast cancer charity and research organization. You can learn more about them here. The anthology can be purchased in digital form here for a limited time.