"The
Destructors"
Themes
and Meanings
The reader’s first impression of "The Destructors" is that
the story is a simple chronicle of senseless violence and wanton
destruction carried out by thoughtless, unprincipled adolescents. Graham
Greene’s story, however, is actually a metaphor for class struggle in
English society in the decade following World War II. The tension
between working-class Britain and the upper-middle-class society that
had absorbed all but the last vestiges of the nobility had surfaced
dramatically in the years following the previous world war. These years
were marked by repeated challenges, both social and political, to the
established order of an empire in decline. Old Misery’s house somehow
survived the battering of a second great war, as did the monarchy and
the entrenched class sensibility of British society. The house, however,
is considerably weakened, held in place by wooden struts that brace the
outside walls. In its fragile state, it needs support, as does the
political and social structure that it represents. It cannot stand as it
once did, independent with the formidable strength of the British
Empire. The interior, although a trove of revered artifacts of civilized
European culture, nevertheless represents a tradition that is
increasingly meaningless to the lower classes.
The members of the Wormsley Common Gang—who significantly are twelve
in number, like the apostles of the New Testament—are forces of
change, agents subconsciously representing quiet, methodical revolution.
Their demolishing of the house is painfully systematic. The boys work
with steady persistence on their enterprise of destruction. They work,
paradoxically, with the seriousness of creators. As Greene’s narrator
asserts, "destruction after all is a form of creation."
T. and his followers represent the extremes of nihilism, the
philosophical doctrine that existing institutions—social, political,
and economic—must be completely destroyed in order to make way for the
new. In the context of nihilism, the destruction of Old Misery’s house
is both positive and necessary. T., whose nihilism is intrinsic to his
distorted personality, makes it clear that he feels no hatred for old
Mr. Thomas; like a true nihilist, he feels nothing, rejecting both hate
and love as "hooey." For someone with such a dangerously
warped sense of mission, T. is also curiously ethical and high-minded.
When he shows Blackie the bundles of currency discovered in Old
Misery’s mattress, Blackie asks if the group is going to share them.
"We aren’t thieves," T. replies; "Nobody is going to
steal anything from this house." He then proceeds to burn them one
by one as an act of celebration, presumably a celebration of triumph
over the currency that more than any other entity determines the
distinctions of social strata in postwar Great Britain. The truck
driver, with his reassurance to Mr. Thomas that his laughter is nothing
personal, reflects the position of the underclass: utter indifference to
the sacrosanct values of tradition and civilized society.