In which I make a pathetic stab at trying to use actors to represent the four protagonists in this story, despite them being varied ages and in the case of Michael Jenn, impossible to find photographs of from the appropriate age despite knowing full well that the internet has screencapped every second of Another Country.
Samuel Russell inherited his father’s estate and title at 17, and assumed that with his ascension to King’s, Cambridge, that the majority of his non-exam-based troubles were now over; of course, they were merely beginning.
Bisley’s presence at King’s is unexplained and inexplicable. No one knows what school he was supposed to have attended or whether he passed the entrance exams, who his parents were, or why his accent occasionally wanders into the gutter. Bisley is in no hurry to enlighten anyone.
A solid member of the suburban middle classes with pretensions towards the Bohemian and a sound if unremarkable interest in Indian mysticism (and later Indian politics), Brötchen is typified by a series of outrageous scarves and moderately scandalous remarks. No one takes him very seriously: this is their mistake.
R L Crumb has risen to his place at King’s through hard work and determination, and this combination is what takes him everywhere he goes: what is unfortunate is that his ascent through hard work is about to pick up some very destructive passengers, and at least one of them is an aspect of himself.
Of course to get an accurate picture of these protagonists, it’s also necessary to imagine they’re all dressed as turn-of-the-century Cambridge undergrads.