All these characters – the ingenious Willy Wonka, the delightful poaching dad in Danny, the Champion of the World, the family-loving Fantastic Mr Fox – were idealised self-portraits of Dahl, the unfaithful husband and emotionally distant father who wanted to think of himself as saviour of all and master of the mighty wheeze. He knew himself well enough to keep hidden the things that he needed to keep hidden in order to make fiction.
It’s easy to be hard on him for doing this. But through all the bullshit and bravura attending his stories about his time in the RAF, and despite the many anecdotal distortions of his life in his autobiographies, Boy (1984) and Going Solo (1986), he knew what it was to live in the shadow of death, and knew grief that never went away. Talking big and bold around the gut-dissolving fear of crashing out of the air was what pilots did, and wrapping bluff and cheery talk around horror and spinning it into yarns was more or less what Dahl spent his life doing...
The emotional horror that he doesn’t want to confront is covered over by bluster.
Towards the end of Dahl’s last book, The Minpins, posthumously published in 1991, Little Billy takes one of his final rides on a swan’s back – he’s growing up and getting too big to fly anymore. The swan flies him into a ‘huge gaping hole in the ground’, and below him ‘Little Billy could see a vast lake of water, gloriously blue, and on the surface of the lake thousands of swans were swimming slowly about.’ There’s no explanation of what this vision is or means, because ‘sometimes mysteries are more intriguing than explanations.’ But it is a throwback to the wartime story ‘They Shall Not Grow Old’, in which the pilot sees row after row of planes gliding off into the light and ‘saw spread out below me a vast green plain. It was green and smooth and beautiful; it reached to the far edges of the horizon where the blue of the sky came down and merged with the green of the plain.’ A vision of calm and collective death stands in for a pilot’s individual terror. Cheerful visions beneath which you can always see something like horror.