The Story of Ben Horne

One of the most frustrating plot lines to follow in the show is that of Ben Horne – initially promising, the character is revealed to be a red herring, and his descent into madness and Civil War re-enactments feel like distractions from the main plot of the show, whilst the celery-chomping redeemed hotelier feels difficult to crack – is he for real? Or is this yet another plan to scupper the Martells? In this post, I want to argue that the Civil War plot line sees Ben manage to rid his body of BOB and become a better man.

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[Image description: Ben Horne dressed as Robert E. Lee, waving the Confederate flag]

Although revealed not to be Laura’s killer as the show seems to set him up to be, Ben Horne is undoubtedly despicable. He owns an illegal casino and brothel, sleeps with underage girls and is ruthless in his illegal enterprises for capital gain. There are several indications, however, that Ben is not this evil just by character, but rather that during the first part of the show he is possessed by BOB.

I have written significantly about general indications that characters are possessed by BOB here [link opens in new tab], but the parallels between Ben Horne and Leland Palmer are so striking that they merit their own article. BOB manifests himself in Leland Palmer through an attraction to underage women – both Leland and Ben slept with several schoolgirls, the most notable being of course Laura, with whom they were both obsessed. Both have photographs of Laura which feature prominently in the show – when Laura dies, Ben puts his in his desk drawer, whereas Leland smashes his; although the latter’s behaviour is more destructive, both men seem to want to erase that part of their wrongdoing, like there’s a split in them, or an element of remorse. This idea of a split in them goes further – Leland’s death scene is memorable for the moment when BOB leaves him and he realises what he has done to his daughter. Ben has a similar moment with his own daughter; after nearly raping Audrey in One-Eyed Jack’s without realising her identity, he subsequently finds out and is deeply distressed by his own actions.

Also in this clip, however [around 2:42], we hear Coop reading the contents of Laura’s secret diary to Diane. He reads: “Someday I’m going to tell the world about Ben Horne. I’m going to tell them who Ben Horne really is.” This phrasing is odd, given that she’s discovered that he’s a bad man rather than that he has a secret identity. Maybe she’s just being melodramatic, but “who” is an interesting choice instead of “what Ben Horne’s really like”. Bear in mind that this is the diary in which she chronicles her time with BOB – given that they treated her much the same, it’s not hard to believe that BOB visited her through both men. Furthermore, the difference between Ben Horne, owner of One-Eyed-Jack’s, and Ben Horne, saviour of the pine weasels, fits exactly in place with the idea that pure evil [represented by BOB] and pure good exist in one place, again placing BOB at the heart of Ben’s wrongdoing at the start of the series – for more on that theory see here [link opens in new tab].

Finally, BOB is present in the final scene of the second series featuring Ben, where we see his head smashed into a mantlepiece by an enraged Hayward. Can I find a picture? No, unfortunately, although it’s pretty memorable. But I can find pictures of several almost identical wounds.

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[Image description: Leland Palmer dying from a wound to the head, surrounded by Harry, Albert and Cooper.]

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[Image description: Coop with a wound to the head, grinning, with a cracked bathroom mirror and BOB on the other side]

Admittedly the shot of Leland isn’t so good, but I’m working with Google Images. The point is that this is how BOB hurts people. This scene with Ben is often used to link him to BOB – I would actually argue the opposite. By this point in the show Ben has rid himself of BOB – he is attacked by Doc Hayward in the same manner that Leland attacks Maddy, by smashing her head into a wall. By this point, BOB is elsewhere – but he is still present in more places than just Leland and Coop. It is crucial, however, to note that at this point in the series Ben is clean – the reaction of an early Ben Horne to a scene of such confrontation would likely have been very different.

Ben’s descent into madness and re-enactment of the Civil War seems to me to be Horne cleansing himself of the presence of BOB. The first clue to this, surprisingly, is Ben’s love of vegetables, particularly phallic ones, which suddenly appears after he wakes from his trance. From then on, Ben is frequently seen with either celery or a carrot in his mouth without explanation. Take a look at this scene, for example.

Yet this vegetable obsession is a behaviour which is clearly paralleled in the old Horne’s obsessive cigar smoking. The old Horne was never seen without a cigar in his hand, both smoking with it and using it to point to just about everything. It is difficult to see the cigar as anything other than a symbol of decadence – more enjoyable and more expensive than a regular cigarette, it is a symbol of luxury, but this is a short-term pleasure that destroys you from within long-term. Historically, cigarettes and cigars have also been cinematic symbols for sex, and sexual indulgence is something tied up in Ben’s lifestyle. Much as I hate to draw on the phallic object as evidence, in the sandwich scene, Lynch uses it to great comic effect – is there anything more grossly sexual than the way Ben and Jerry devour those baguettes, the indulgence only compounded by Jerry stating that he ate four a day when in France? Having seen the way they seem to share this sexual gratification, the brothers’ joint involvement with – and trips to – One-Eyed Jack’s seem unsurprising.

Returning to the cigar, more common than the baguette in cinematographic history, it is also constantly burning and therefore inherently destructive not only to Horne himself but also to his external environment – the aesthetic of the Great Northern is entirely wooden. Let us now contrast this to the vegetable – much as I enjoy celery and carrots, these vegetables are some of the last objects that would be termed indulgent in the Western world. Surrounded by wood, these plants have a kinship to their environment, and nourish Ben – the opposite to the cigar. There is a definite sense of binary here.

So why is the Civil War plot line the crucial instigator of this sea-change? Well, I would argue that Dr. Jacoby hits the nail on the head in the clip above, when he says that “by reversing the South’s defeat in the Civil War, well in turn he’ll reverse his own emotional setbacks” [3:12]. When BOB leaves Leland, Leland dies trying to come to terms with what he has done (interestingly repeating “I loved her” about Laura just as Ben did), becoming slightly deranged, unable to cope with what he has done – I argue that this false reality of the Civil War helps Ben come to terms with the atrocities he committed under the control of BOB. The similarities between Ben’s situation and the Civil War are straightforward enough – both were slaveowners of a sort, the South fighting to maintain slavery and Ben keeping vulnerable young women in a brothel for sex and profit. It is more notable, perhaps, that throughout the Civil War plot line, Ben finds himself occupied by the spirit of Robert E. Lee – another BOB. We already know Roberts to be BOB from the letters left under his victims’ fingernails – this comparison is too clear to miss.

And so, waking up, Ben reverts to younger, more innocent times – like the child that we saw in the home movie above, when watching himself Ben seems to continually raise the cigar to his mouth, then pull it away, only smoking it at the very end of the scene. He and his brother both seem entirely innocent here, suggesting that they were corrupted by BOB somewhere along the line – I’ve written more about this corruption and why it’s indicated by dancing here [link opens in new tab], but suffice to say that the dancing of the Man from Another Place echoes through characters throughout the television show, indicating their corruption by BOB, and whilst Ben is no exception to this, his flashback to Louise Dubrowski dancing for the young Horne brothers feels like an inversion of this. Rather than the eerie music that plays throughout the rest of the dance scenes, this sweet, innocent, slow dance feel is much more reminiscent of when Coop meets the very wholesome Annie. As well as this, the bunk beds that the Horne brothers had in their first bedroom are now ironically inverted into those in their prison cell, the home of the guilty. Guilty is one binary opposite of innocent; the other, opposed to the sort of innocent that those young boys were, is corrupted. Yet the fact that we have several references to Ben’s boyhood goodness from the start is an indication that there is room for redemption – something proved by the Civil War plot line.

Only two things now remain: one is a far more tenuous theory I would like to add onto the end as food for thought, and the second is a question I can’t (yet) answer.

For the first, let’s return to this clip where Audrey brings in Jacoby, Bobby and Jerry to help with Ben. In the opening of this extract, she clearly tells Bobby that he can no longer suck up to Ben, but must now suck up to her. This is interesting mainly because Ben is the only person – that I can remember – who calls Bobby ‘Bob’. Although the similarity of names has been much remarked upon over the years, is there a suggestion here, mirrored through the slightly inept Bobby, that BOB is unable to retain his grip on the self-purifying Ben and is instead passing into Audrey? Maybe. It’s true that Audrey becomes increasingly cold-hearted and ruthlessly business-minded as the second series draws to a close, striving to emulate her father’s old ways and inherit the family business, although she ventures nowhere near the One-Eyed Jack’s side of things, to her credit (admittedly, it is no longer on the table). It is also true that BOB, when possessing Leland, used him as a vehicle to possess other people, the one he wanted the most being Laura – it’s not an unreasonable jump to impose this narrative on the mirroring father and daughter, Ben and Audrey. Nonetheless, I wouldn’t go as far as to describe it as conclusive.

The second thing I have to put out there is a question for further thought. When Ben Horne wakes up from his trance, the scene is shot like the final scene from The Wizard of Oz, with several lines directly taken from the film. This is too iconic a theft to pass unnoticed – but why? I’m not 100% sure yet, but I can give my take on it. The Wizard of Oz is the most famous of all it-was-all-a-dream stories – and is arguably the only one that has ever worked. The premise is that Dorothy is deeply discontent at home in Kansas, and that it takes a dream that is ostensibly wonderful in many ways to make her realise what a wonderful life she has back at home. Crucially, this dream contains many of the people closest to her in real life, all in odd disguises, who she identifies when she wakes up as having been a part of it. Ben Horne’s story is the same in many ways. He spends his dream as Robert E. Lee, Confederate general – and he acknowledges that it was a wonderful dream. But that – or, more frankly, BOB – is not the sort of man that he wants to be, and the life of a slave-owner is not the sort of life he wants to live. I’ll put the two scenes side by side so you can see what you think – but I think that this direct comparison to The Wizard of Oz clinches the idea of the Civil War subplot as a kind of dream therapy. If an odd sort.

Where is BOB?

In this post I want to argue that BOB is present in everyone in Twin Peaks, not just in Leland and Coop. I should say that this theory draws heavily on the theory of doubling [link opens in new tab], so if you haven’t read that, I would recommend going there first. However, it’s not essential.

The Man From Another Place gives Coop the information he needs to spot Leland Palmer back in S01E03 with his grey hair and dancing, both features of Leland’s behaviour when possessed by BOB. To sum up the conclusions from analysing the show’s use of doubling, BOB seems to be a metaphor for the evil in all of us, as stated by Albert quite early on. As a result, it seems odd that he is largely confined to Leland Palmer for the first two series.

Unless, of course, he’s not.

I don’t dispute that Leland is the only character to have his hair change colour overnight. Dancing, on the contrary, is a running theme in Twin Peaks. First, I direct you to “The Dance of the Dream Man” as Angelo Badalamenti puts it.

Let me draw your attention to what I think are the two most distinctive aspects of this clip. The first is the finger clicking, which is the hallmark of the dance of The Man From Another Place. The second is the instrumentation, which is heavily percussive and also highlights the clicking noise.

There are many notable instances of Leland Palmer dancing – often to Rodgers and Hammerstein, although I can’t work out why – but I’ve put probably the best known one below as a contrast.

It’s true that the finger clicking isn’t as apparent here as it is in other clips of Leland, but in a piece of music which at first listen seems radically different to the one in the Lodge we find exactly the same percussive elements, bizarrely so. The most important reason for choosing this clip, however, is that everybody joins in. Likewise, in the “I’m back!” scene, where a slightly deranged Leland dances for the Horne brothers when rejoining the Great Northern, both of them join in.

This isn’t just one of Twin Peaks‘s idiosyncrasies. We can expect everybody at the Great Northern to be able to dance slightly awkwardly, but the fact that they join in is odd to say the least, given that Leland is clearly very distressed. This oddness is compounded by the video with the Horne brothers – where did Jerry learn to worm? And where did Ben learn to tap dance? Both of these seem – to me – out of keeping with their respective characters. What is more, Leland isn’t the one clicking in this video – the undoubtedly evil Ben Horne is.

The image of people joining in with dancing is a particularly important one, because one of the key ideas behind the lodges is that fear is drawn to fear, and love to love. This is why there is such a concentration of romance in the Double R Diner but nowhere else – in a short string of episodes, where the rest of the show is building to a dramatic and relatively scary conclusion, there are far too many scenes of comic romance in this one place to fit tonally with the rest of the show. When I first watched this, it was something that my family kept commenting on – these tonal breaks are very obvious, and crucially they’re all concentrated in one place. The flip side of that is of course Josie’s death – it’s never confirmed or denied whether BOB was possessing Josie at any point, but we do know he was drawn to her death by the sheer amount of fear present. The idea, then, of the presence of BOB (in the dancing) setting off similar responses in those around him is really not that far-fetched.

Even then, we could perhaps dismiss this as a coincidence. But the fact is, this behaviour is apparent in a lot of characters throughout the series, both before and after dancing is confirmed as a sign of the presence of BOB. It was planned, right from the pilot. Take a look at this 6 second clip – when you first watch the pilot, it seemed like a quirk, and most people (myself included) forgot about it.

The person who published this to YouTube describes it as “the single most important story telling device in the entire series”. They say no more – I can’t tell if they’re being sarcastic or not. But in my opinion, they’re not far wrong. Check out the way he clicks at his locker, his red shirt and of course the exact same instrumentation, the focus on the clicking sound mixed with the slightly blurry percussion (a synaesthesic description – I hope you understand what I mean). This is undoubtedly a reference to The Man From Another Place – in a total randomer in the first episode, who wiggles his way off the screen never to be seen again. Surely this suggests that the influence of BOB is far more widespread than thought.

The next important – and probably next most famous – incidence of dancing is by Audrey, quite early on, in the Double R Diner. Notice the instrumentation again – it’s exactly the same, despite different tracks – Badalamenti is deliberately connecting these pieces of music. There is also a tenuous link to be made with Audrey’s maroon top – I’ll leave that there, take it or leave it. What is perhaps more important is the presence of a non-dancing Donna in this scene. This ties into the theory of doubles [again, link opens in new tab], so once again, if you haven’t read it I would advise you to go there first.

Doubling is generally recognised to various degrees in Twin Peaks, but Audrey and Donna are probably the second most recognised pair (after Laura and Maddy), to the point where an article about this actually made it into Huffington Post, which you can read here [link opens in new tab]. As I wrote in my post on the mirrors in the show, Donna and Audrey are set up as two sides of the same coin from the start. They look incredibly similar, which is later explained by the fact that they’re actually half-sisters. They both represent sides of Laura, and they both set out to solve her murder in radically opposite ways. Audrey seems to be the bad side to Donna’s good girl image, an extension of the symbolic personality split we see in BOB. This is apparent in this clip – just look at the way their hair is parted or at their identical make-up. They’re made to look as similar as possible. And – just as BOB tempts Leland to evil – here is Audrey, and from the look she gives Donna, it is clear that she is inviting, even daring her to dance with her. Donna, on the other hand, doesn’t look too impressed, but the camera work tells us that this scene is not just about Audrey – it consistently pans back to Donna to show her reaction, suggesting that this is about the relationship between the two girls. It’s also worth noting that Audrey refers to the music as “dreamy”, and that the similar (although not identical) piece played in the Lodge in episode three and later is referred to as “The Dance of the Dream Man” on the soundtrack.

There are so many instances of dancing in the show that there are some I’m not going to dwell on – I’m not focusing on the dancing at the pageant, although there’s a lot of it. I’m just going to take a couple more select moments – sifting through the entire show is a mammoth task!

Firstly, there’s a scene which is often forgotten and seems largely irrelevant to the rest of the show – the scene where Ben and Jerry (I assume the joke has already been made) are in a prison cell together and they see a woman dancing with a flashlight, a mixture between a flashback and a dream sequence. Interestingly, the music here is the same as the music we hear when Coop first meets Annie, a kind of schmaltzy slow dance number – not what I expected to hear at all, at first. When I thought about it, however, it started to make sense. Most other dance scenes seem to be analyses of people as they slip over the edge into evil. The Hornes, however, are already reprehensible – their memory of the dance, which certainly seems to be a dance of temptation, is one of reverse, remembering the time before that, when they were young and innocent boys, as shown in the scene.

A couple more before I close. Once Leland’s dancing was revealed to have been the giveaway, I started obsessing over people dancing, seeing if I could spot who BOB was going to inhabit next. The first one I saw was Bobby. The name doubling (Bobby and Mike are best friends, I am the millionth person to point out) made me think that this was it. Bobby was going to commit murder. The first ten seconds of the clip below have the weird dance/clicking with no context as well as the dreamy music. But here, rather than being the focus, it is just thrown in casually, which I first assumed was to try to slip it in unnoticed – kind of sloppy, but hey ho. However, this is (as far as I know) never referenced again – in hindsight, it feels cleverer than that, like it is Lynch and Frost deliberately trying to highlight the undercurrent of evil throughout the town, a recurring theme in the series and arguably what makes it so haunting and unsettling.

I can’t find a clip of the scene where Nadine gets her memory back and Ed has to work out what to do, but as he decides the same thing happens as with Bobby there – deciding whether to stay unhappy with Nadine or choose love with Norma, he gives a weird little click dance, just for a second.

I don’t have the time or Wi-Fi connection to go back through the entire series, but I would hazard a reasonable guess that Bobby, Ed, Audrey, the Hornes and so forth are not the only characters who engage in this odd clicking. A running theme in Lynch’s work is the idea that there is a veneer of evil underneath all of small town life, and this certainly fits with the way he and Frost present evil in Twin Peaks.

A coda to this is the really interesting scene where Coop and Annie dance together. It’s not just spontaneous – there’s a lot of talk of dancing between them before it happens, presumably to highlight it as important, and I can’t quite make head or tail of what Lynch and Frost are trying to do in this scene. I’ve put it right at the bottom – notice the interesting ups and downs of the percussion, becoming blurrier as Coop approaches Annie and then fading as they part. Note also that this is the scene which shows the Lodge connecting with the “real” world, as BOB comes out of it fully formed. The Giant speaks to Coop here, but we also have the microphone lowering by itself, suggesting the presence of The Man From Another Place. Finally, Annie and Coop make so many references to “the other side”, so many and with such odd phrasing that it doesn’t seem like they’re talking about the pageant any more. And, of course, the mystery which haunts me every day – having received that message from the Giant, why didn’t Coop try to stop Annie from entering the pageant? Is BOB already controlling him? This seems unlikely… This is one of the scenes from Twin Peaks that keeps me up at night – if anyone can shed any light I’d be immensely grateful.

Or, if you’d rather, just enjoy the lovely scene of Coop and Annie dancing before everything goes wrong.