The Wood at Midwinter

The Wood at Midwinter / Susanna Clarke
London: Bloomsbury, c2024. 
64 p.

This is a short story bound in book form, beautifully illustrated and with a lovely cover, perfect for gift giving - it's a very short read, but with the elements of magic and mysticism that can be found in Clarke's other works. 

Since it is the Winter Solstice today I thought I would share this one now. It's the story of Merowdis Scott, 19 and a bit of a misfit. She isn't obedient enough to be accepted as a nun, she's turned down a marriage proposal, and really feels herself only in the woods. 

The story has an edge of the fantastical, as Merowdis talks to the animals in the forest, and the question of Christmas and a child born at midwinter arise. The atmosphere in the story is evocative, and it feels old somehow. There is a clear drive in Merowdis to exist in the woods, and one day while wandering she encounters a strange figure and her life is changed forever. 

I liked this one; it's a bit uncanny and the writing is lovely. But it is awfully short, and I don't feel like there was enough development of Merowdis for the reader to feel truly engaged with her story. The illustrations are nice, the book itself is very prettily done, but it is very brief. I would have liked to have a bit more context for this story and character, to really understand her and the concepts brought up in the narrative. But I do like Susanna Clarke's writing, and am always eager for more, so it was nice to read at Christmastime. 

There is also an author's afterword in which she talks about the inspiration for the story, and mentions Kate Bush's music as one of them - that was interesting, and added something else to the book. I'm always waiting for more Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell so this brief tale set in their universe gave a small taste that I appreciated. 

Not At Home

Not At Home / Doris Langley Moore
London: Dean Street Press, 2020, c1948.
300 p.

It's Dean Street December, and I'm pleased to be sharing another read from the Furrowed Middlebrow imprint. I love these books and have found many enjoyable ones over the past few years. I first read Moore's All Done By Kindness last year, and found it a fun read. This one has similarities but it's a bit more focused on one woman and one house. 

Elinor MacFarren is a middle-aged spinster, botanical writer, and collector of prints and objets d’art, but she is finding that post WWII she is finding it hard to afford her home and her collections. After some thought, she decides that she will rent part of her home out, to a congenial person. She will move her bedroom to her study, and give up her parlour to the use of a renter. The spare room will be shared by either's guests. She's planning to be very careful about it, and gets a recommendation from a friend who runs an antique shop. Mrs. Antonia Bankes, an American, wants a home since her husband will be coming back from his war duties and she doesn't want them to live in a hotel. After gushing, sincere promises about what a good, quiet and reliable tenant she will be, Elinor accepts. And that's the beginning of her trials. 

Antonia Bankes is a horror. She says whatever she needs to in the moment to avoid conflict or accountability, but never means a word of it. Elinor begins to learn to her chagrin, that her beautiful objets are being misused, damaged and lost, while Antonia encroaches further and further into her home. There are always giddy friends staying with her, using the spare room, and making a mess for the one servant to deal with, until she finally has enough and leaves. 

When Antonia's husband shows up, he's a decent fellow and Elinor warms to him. And when he's there, Antonia seems to settle down a little. But then they drop the bombshell - they have two children they want to bring over from America and establish in the spare room. This leads Elinor to lengths of subterfuge and trickery she never thought she'd be capable of, as she angles to get rid of the Bankes. With her rival in botanical collecting as an unexpected ally, and her flamboyant nephew who is involved in the movies to help out (along with his amusing lady friend, who's all in) she finagles a few things into going her way. And despite the long war on her own turf, she eventually triumphs. 

This was entertaining, in a way, but also a stressful read, as Elinor is invaded in her own home, essentially. Antonia is immensely selfish and self-absorbed and poor Elinor's manners and ideas of social norms restrict her from fighting back until far too much time has passed. It was an interesting range of characters, all who shed light on the post-war realities of London from different angles. From older Brits like Elinor, to Americans, to young things like her nephew's lady friend, there are many perspectives and portrayals. I found that part satisfying. But I certainly would have liked to see Antonia tossed out on her ear much earlier! 

The joy of reading Moore's books lies in her observations of characters and their interactions. She understands people very well and creates some fascinating studies. All while developing a good story. There are some parts in the book which are very much of their time, like casual references to "red Indians" and some animal cruelty, which are slight asides but do colour it. Still, a pretty good read, although I think I liked All Done By Kindness just a little more. 

The Little Broomstick

The Little Broomstick / Mary Stewart 
William Morrow, 1972, c1971.
192 p.

This charming children's book by Mary Stewart is redolent with magic. Young Mary Smith is staying with elderly relatives in Shropshire, and is lonely and bored. She goes out to help in the garden some days just for something to do. And one day she follows a mysterious black cate with green eyes and finds a little broomstick. Conveniently for her, Tib the cat had also led her to a rare flower in the woods called a fly-by-night. And all three of these together launch her onto a great adventure. 

Mary flies off, rather wobbily, on her little broomstick. It takes her straight to Endor College, a school for witchcraft where she is quickly enrolled. But she discovers that the spells taught to the students are mean-spirited and tricksy, and the teachers are generally pretty nasty. And then Tib disappears and Mary decides she is going to find him and break whatever mysterious magic is going on here. 

There is some evil experimenting going on, on all the pets and familiars who have arrived with the children. The heads of the school are running it for their own benefit and are trying out all sorts of dark magic. But with her innocence and some fortunate assistance, Mary ends up undoing the spells in one fell swoop, and then fleeing the school. 

The scenes in which she is escaping are exciting and scary. She has to use her wits to figure out how to escape from Endor and the magical landscapes to cross over back to her own world again. She has Tib and his brother cat, and another boy to help her but it's touch and go. This was a well constructed story with appealing characters, both good and bad, as well as the requisite oblivious adults supposed to be taking care of her. Lovely cats, lots of magical magic, and a funny scene with the broomsticks when she arrives at Endor for the first time -- a stableman approving of her old fashioned broom rather than all the new-fangled ones students purchase from the Harrod's catalogue (with descriptions). 

This was a good read, really reflective of many of the 'witchy' books from the 70s that were written for children. This one has great atmosphere, not surprising given the author, and an appealing heroine. Really enjoyed it. 

Murder While You Work

Murder While You Work / Susan Scarlett 
London: Dean Street Press, 2022, c1944.
235 p.

Another Dean Street novel -- I seem to read these a lot in the summer! This is a Susan Scarlett novel; I am now almost finished with new novels by this author, I've been spacing them out so as not to finish too quickly. This one is unusual in her oeuvre, as it's a mystery set during wartime. It's her only mystery novel. 

Judy Rest is travelling to her new wartime job as a factory girl. On the train she meets a young man, Nick Parsons. With their loose lips, they discover that they are both engaged in war work at this factory, and develop an affinity. This turns out to be a great boon to Judy, as she finds herself in a very odd situation in her boarding house. She has a room in a house with an old lady, her daughter (quite cowed), and their daughter-in-law and her young son. Judy soon realizes that there are family tensions, and that the little boy is what we'd call "not all there". A fact that his mother vigorously denies. 

The man of the house, old Mr. Former, died the previous year, and the two older ladies are a bit afraid of something, Judy isn't sure what. There are some shocking turns in this story, not a lot of mystery (really only one viable suspect but the motive is unclear until the end), and a weak romance. 

However, the setting, with the wartime workplace and small village characters, makes this worth reading. This isn't light and frothy like her others, there is some psychological content with a storyline that goes a bit dark. Some characters here to love and some to absolutely loathe. I'm glad I read it, though, it was a great look at 40s England from another lens. 

Mrs. Lorimer's Quiet Summer

Mrs. Lorimer's Quiet Summer / Molly Clavering
London: Dean Street Press, 2021, c1953.
192 p.

I was in need of a quiet read recently, so turned to Dean Street Press, always a reliable source of comfort reading. I found this one off my to read list, and thought that "quiet" and "summer" described what I was looking for. 

I'm so glad I picked it up! I really enjoyed this one. We find Mrs. Lucy Lorimer (loosely based on the author's friend D.E. Stevenson) getting ready to welcome her children home for a visit. She's disappointed that a local house has been sold, as she had been pondering buying it so that all the children could fit when they visit. As it is, two of the children will be staying at her best friend Grace "Gray" Douglas' house down the road (a character loosely based on Molly Clavering). 

This quiet summer is not so quiet; it does have small domestic upsets. The four children are all grown, three married and the youngest, Guy (Mrs. Lorimer's favourite) is nursing heartbreak. All four (plus spouses, grandchildren and assorted locals) cause many quiet fusses over the summer visit -- some are more nerve-wracking than others, including sudden illness, a car accident, a growing attachment by Guy to an unsuitable local girl, and more. 

Also in the mix is Mrs. Lorimer's husband Jack, who seems blustery and comical at the beginning, but grows on the reader as he proves he is good at solving a crisis, and everything he does is aimed at making Lucy's life easier. 

This is a gentle read, with three lovely main characters (Lucy, Jack and Gray). The wide range of other characters give motion and event to the book (including a wonderful summer fair) but these three are at the heart of it. I felt carried away, entertained, and satisfied by this read. I will definitely look for more Molly Clavering. 

Miss Granby's Secret

Miss Granby's Secret / Eleanor Farjeon
London: Dean Street Press, 2024, c1941.
338 p.

A rare miss for me from Dean Street Press. Doubly so as I usually love this author's works - I have strong feelings about having her wonderful Martin Pippin novels reissued, for example! 

But this book was a bit of a mess for me. It just went on with the main conceit for far too long, becoming tiresome. That conceit is that Pamela's great aunt Addie, a spinster who was a best-selling author of romantic melodramas, was not as cluelessly innocent as her family had thought. After her death, Pamela is left the secret manuscript of Addie's first novel, a story apparently based in fact. 

This melodramatic manuscript then takes up most of the story, and the arch ridiculousness of it goes on and on. Young Addie doesn't know what "bastard" means, teehee! It continues in this manner for quite a while. 

The conclusion, where we come back to Pamela as she tries to determine what might be true in the story, is written naturally and has more heft. But by this time I couldn't have cared less how much Aunt Addie actually knew about the facts of life. I just wished she could have known something about the facts of writing! 

I think that I was probably in the entirely wrong mood for this. But I was disappointed - Farjeon's magical touch was missing here, making this one a bit of a dud. Perhaps when it was first published there was more cultural context that might have made this more enjoyable - perhaps people even had older relatives they may have connected with characters like Addie. But I don't feel that the appeal has carried through to today, at least not for me. 

Ex-Wife

Ex-Wife / Ursula Parrott
Rare Treasure Editions, 2025, c1929
283 p.

I first saw this book on Instagram somewhere, when this reissue came out. It sounded really good and I was lucky to find it as an online book via my library. It's another book from the 20s about marriage and gender roles but very different from the last one I read (The Home Maker). 

It was a lot bleaker than I had expected. It follows Pat as she becomes an ex-wife, one of the growing cadre of them in 1920s New York City. Pat was a young starry-eyed wife, inordinately fond of her philandering husband Peter - this seems to be fine, until she's the one who philanders, and suddenly Peter doesn't want her anymore. 

There were scenes in this book that I wasn't expecting; dark, scary ones of domestic violence - heartbreaking ones of abortion and child loss - rape when Pat's back on the dating scene. This feels scarily contemporary. 

This novel was first published anonymously in 1929, set in the mid 20s, and was considered scandalous. I guess it was okay to live this way, but to talk about women's experiences of it was a no-no. It's also semi-confessional, according to the author's son. This was the original Jazz Age story, one of heavy drinking, dancing, divorce, and the effect of women of these sea changes in social norms. Pat moves in with another divorced woman, Lucia, after she is left on her own. Lucia is a no-nonsense woman with a clear vision of their status. She says: 

The choices for women used to be: marriage, the convent, or the street. They’re just the same now. Marriage has the same name. Or you can have a career, letting it absorb all emotional energy (just like the convent). Or you can have an imitation masculine attitude toward sex, and a succession of meaningless affairs, promiscuity, (the street, that is) taking your pay in orchids and dinner-dates instead of money left on the dresser. 

Once Pat is divorced she goes through waves and stages of grief and longing for Peter's return (meanwhile I just wanted to punch Peter in the throat). The depiction of her grief and distress is powerful and realistic, the experience of heartbreak is laid bare. Pat has so many things to grieve over, and this includes her own loss of innocence and growing cynicism. She travels this road and comes out a different person; the conclusion is natural in a way, but also bittersweet. Definitely a must read for anyone interested in women writing about their lives. 

Linnets and Valerians

Linnets & Valerians / Elizabeth Goudge
Boston, MA: David Godine Publishers, 2015, c1964.
256 p.

I've been having a hard time reading and an even harder time sitting down to review lately. So I decided that I should read something delightful from a favourite author, one of her children's book that I hadn't yet read. This was the right choice! 

Linnets & Valerians is the story of the four Linnet children, Nan, Robert, Timothy and Betsy. They are sent to live with their grandmother when their father is assigned a post overseas -- their mother being, of course in these kinds of books, long dead. Their grandmother is strict and they are unhappy at the beginning of the book, as they are all being punished for rowdy behaviour by being locked away in solitary. They decide to escape and run away. 

And so they do, walking to another village until in exhaustion they climb into a pony trap, which then sets off, the pony heading home, while they eat all the groceries in the back. I can see why Grandma locked them up! 

Fortunately for them, the pony belongs to their Uncle Ambrose, a grumpy minister and scholar, who takes them in. Life there is much freer, even if they must be educated by Uncle Ambrose. 

But instead of just larks and hijinks for the rest of the book, the story turns darker. There is a witch in town, old Emma Cobley, who has cursed the local rich family - their son disappeared at age 8 on the hills, the husband is long missing overseas, the wife is a recluse at their estate. The Linnet children stumble into this and they do resolve it, as expected, but the story is dark, with witchcraft, magical bees, owls, and more. The children remain resolutely stout and English amidst this swirling magic, except for maybe a little bit of Nan is brought into it. As the oldest she is responsible for them and she also finds a little book of spells in Uncle Ambrose's house (the vicarage, where the rich recluse used to live as the old vicar's daughter long ago). 

But despite the odd balance of this book I loved it and would have loved it when I was a young reader as well. It was published in 1964, when these themes of English witches were everywhere -- Mary Stewart's Thornyhold, Alexander Key's Escape to Witch Mountain, or any of Ruth Chew's lighter witchy stories, for example. And this kind of dark magic against the (Christian) light is a theme in some of Goudge's other writing, in different ways but present. 

The only part I wasn't keen on was Nan's character arc - I could see her resolution coming and didn't like it, and then it happened and I still didn't like it! But this was a fun, relaxing read that I really enjoyed on a steamy summer day. 

The Wardrobe Department

 

The Wardrobe Department / Elaine Garvey
Edinburgh: Canongate, c2025.
231 p.

This is Elaine Garvey's debut novel, which I found serendipitously in my library's collection. It's the story of Mairead, a 22 yr old Irish woman who has left a suffocating home life to work at a small theatre in England. But the theatre isn't the dream life she was looking for - it's still just real life, a job with many attendant issues. 

She works in the wardrobe department, and the descriptions of the actual work are great - sewing up gloves, awkward fittings with actors they have crushes on, washing and pressing until all hours, sourcing stockings at sex shops for the cheapest options and so on. I loved this part of the book; it is so rare to find a book that goes into actual daily worklife, and manages to capture the every day nature of it, the way it makes up most of a life. And also the way that coworkers shape the day. Mairead works with two other young women, one posh and one more raucous and full of desire to live life. Their interactions are so realistic, and they help to shape Mairead's story. And her direct boss is tough but ultimately supportive. Some of the other characters are ones you'd like to throttle, though!

Mairead is awkward and introverted - she's not sure she fits in here but doesn't feel like she fits in at home either. But she still misses it and feels torn between two places. Then she has to go home for a funeral, and that part of the book is the real heart of the story. Her visit shows the reader the background for all the issues she's been having in London, her numbness, anxiety, constant worrying and so on. The family dynamics are finely drawn, between Mairead and her parents but also her wider family. There are some difficult moments in her life and that of her family that are hard to read about. 

But then there is a breakthrough in mother-daughter communication which shakes Mairead up, just as she is ready to board her plane back to London. And once there, she goes back to her daily round of work and home, but somehow her mother speaks through her in a key moment -- Mairead finds her steel -- and everything changes. Although much of the book has us following Mairead stuck in her life, the ending is hopeful, and I thought it ended on a high note. 

I really liked this one. If you enjoy slower paced character driven stories with a wonderful setting, you may also like it. Of course I also found the sewing content relatable and realistic, and appreciated the metaphors arising from stitching that appeared in other parts of the book.


And here's a nice interview with the author at the blog Word Herding, about her work in theatres and how it informed this book, if you want to learn more.

(review first appeared at FollowingTheThread)

Fitzgerald's Bookshop

 

The Book Shop / Penelope Fitzgerald
Boston: Mariner Books, 1997, c1978.
123 p.

Ah, opening a bookshop! Isn't it everyone's dream? (I tried it myself at one point; harder than it looks). In this book, probably fairly well known now thanks to the movie, Florence Green decides to start a bookshop in Hardborough. 

This is 1959, it's a small seaside town, and Florence decides to take her widow's inheritance and start a bookshop, because of course a town without one desires one! But she encounters many, many obstacles. First off, a cold, old building with a damp cellar - and apparently a poltergeist too. And then suspicious locals. And envious shopkeepers once she begins to become a bit of a success. And spite from the local woman who considers herself the artistic arbiter of the area, and doesn't like someone else claiming culture. 

Because it's Fitzgerald writing I didn't expect any goodness to be rewarded, or for the powerful and selfish to do anything but succeed in their bullying. And, well, I was right. I do find her quite bleak and cynical a lot of the time. Even though her writing is sharp, crisp, acidic and never sentimental, which can be refreshing. She has an eye for the ways in which people reveal who they are, and the ways in which privilege corrupts. The insularity of this small town, and the ways in which those with connections rule the roost, even if they are unworthy of it, is finely drawn here. 

The highlights of this story are the bookish bits. Any reader will enjoy the discussion of the books themselves, while as a librarian and former bookseller, the parts about the day to day operations of the shop were entertaining and relatable. 

But in the end, this is a sad book with a depressing ending. Mulish insularity and small town politics win the day and the idealist, the lover of books and gentle soul, fails in her quest to educate and enlarge the world for these residents. I can't say that I love Fitzgerald's writing - I admire her skill, and find much to appreciate, but her cynicism about human nature is often off-putting for me as a reader. This one is hard to evaluate because of that balance between cleverness, bookishness, and the opposing idea that nasty people always come out on top. It felt maybe too realistic to really take to heart. 

Mystery in White

 

Mystery in White / J. Jefferson Farjeon
Scottsdale, AZ: Poisoned Pen Press, 2016, c1937.
237 p.

This is my Christmas read this year! This was republished fairly recently, and I thought it looked like a good choice for some fun holiday reading. I was right - it had snowstorms, Christmas, mysterious strangers, murder, spirits and seemingly abandoned country houses with fires going and tea laid. And a ragtag group of characters thrown together when their train gets stuck in an enormous snowfall. 

There are a brother and sister, an old man who investigates hauntings, a pimply clerk going to visit his maiden aunt, a beautiful young woman, a pompous blowhard, and an unexpected add-on from another compartment - a bit of a shady character. They discuss leaving the train and hiking through the snow to the next station, not so far away, but are rather anxious about the idea, until the old man sees something and leaps out of the train. Then one by one they feel obliged to follow, to make sure the old man makes it. They all make it, but not to the station, rather to a large country house with an unlocked front door after they are lost in the storm. They enter to find fires going, tea laid out, and no-one there. But they are desperate so they pile in, and this becomes a kind of locked room mystery. 

I found the development of the plot to this point (a chapter or so in) quite quick and action-oriented. It slows down a fair bit once they are all in the house, with a bit too much guilty reflection on using the house going on, like seriously, who would be mad that you came in out of a blizzard and sought shelter? But otherwise, there is a great atmosphere developed in the house with a portrait that seems to glare down at them, and a foreboding sense of doom in one of the upper bedrooms, and a kitchen knife out of place on the floor... 

Add to this very realistic characters who are selfish, neurotic, guarded, anxious, and of course there's some good old sexism thrown in too. The plot eventually makes sense, with some extra information finally revealed, and it's interesting if a bit sensational. But the psychology of all the characters and how they watch each other and have private thoughts about one another is the delight of this book. The people are so very peopley. 

Christmas is a bit incidental, except that it happens on Christmas Eve into Christmas Day, and Lydia (the sister) is determined to bring a bit of Christmas spirit into the dreary proceedings. I really enjoyed it and thought it was a well made mystery, definitely of its time, with a slightly corny edge but lots of fun nonetheless. It combines the snowed in train trope with some 'ghost story for Christmas' vibe and has a bit of sparkle too. I thought it was a fun seasonal read! 

Harriet Hume

 

Harriet Hume / Rebecca West
London: Virago, 1980, c1929.
288 p.

My goodness, what an odd read this was! Harriet Hume and Arnold Condorex are young and beautiful, and they've just spent the night together. But Harriet is a dedicated pianist and performer, while Arnold has his sights set on political power and riches. And remarkably, after their night together, Harriet can suddenly read Arnold's mind. The opening pages, and this conceit, seem to set up a quirky love story - but this isn't that. 

It reminded me in feel of the strangeness of  Chesterton's The Man Who Was Thursday, or Charles Williams' All Hallows Eve, even if there aren't exactly the same elements to be found here. It was just the tone, the political content encroaching on the narrative, the slightly paranormal effect of Harriet's gift and how it infiltrates everything, and the ending.

Arnold leaves Harriet after their night together and progresses through life, sometimes jumping a decade or more between chapters. As he rises, he encounters Harriet intermittently, happily at first, then remembering the horror of her gift. And each time, she can see his thoughts that he's hidden even from himself, warning him of the outcomes like some kind of Cassandra. 

Despite his awful behaviour and lack of integrity, Harriet and Arnold seem to be linked inextricably. In some moments, Arnold can almost see a different life, one in which he and Harriet had married and had children and lived a normal middle class life, in a kind of wavering 'sliding doors' effect. But as it is, he keeps digging himself deeper into political schemes and debt and envy of those politicians who come from family and wealth and don't have to struggle like he does. 

I wanted to like this, but there is so much political content when Arnold is arguing his decisions to himself. I think you'd have to be a little better versed in English politics of the turn of the 20th century to get all the references and satire here. I ended up skimming much of that to get to the action, but there wasn't an awful lot of action. And the ending was surprising, although after a couple of pages of the last chapter I could see where she was going. 

Unusual, odd read, one I can't say I really loved, but I did appreciate the idea behind it, and there were some strong moments to enjoy. Overall not a big hit for me, though! 

In a Summer Season

In a Summer Season / Elizabeth Taylor
London: Virago, 2006, c1961.
224 p.

Another novel about marriage, but this one is a bit different from the more modern ones I've read lately. This was published in 1961, in England, and it does reflect the social expectations of that time, and how these characters are upsetting the equilibrium. 

Kate Heron is a widow, and ends up marrying a man who is the opposite of her former husband - ten years younger than her, serially unemployed, not very interested in the arts and literature, but very physically compelling. 

Dermot is about halfway between the age of Kate and her oldest son, Tom. And sometimes Dermot seems more attuned to Kate, and at others more so to Tom's generation, especially with music, drinking and the horses. He's always on to some scheme to make money; as the book opens he's trying to grow mushrooms in the shed. And his mother is also continuously trying to involve him in schemes of her own, to the benefit of her friends. This mother is something; so self-absorbed, so entitled. Kate has to run interference and try to be the grownup, as it's her money that would be used by any of these schemes. 

There are happy times between them, even if the neighbours and the countryside are scandalized by this strange relationship, especially those who knew her first husband. They believe that Dermot has only married her for her money but within the book we see Dermot acknowledging that he is really in love with her and that has made him into more of a man. Still, his resentment at not having work, and his drinking habit, combine to make him unhappy and rude a lot of the time. 

As his drinking gets worse, their relationship struggles - but of course they try to hide that from everyone else. But when Kate's old friend Charles returns home, now widowed, with his late teen daughter, things begin to really go off the rails. 

I found this book to be a quiet, sad read. The hopes of each person as to what they wanted to be, and how they wanted their lives to work, were never based in honest appraisal of reality. There was so much stagnant energy in so many of the characters - Dermot, Kate's two children, Charles' daughter - lots of them unable to stir or accomplish anything. Lots of doomed love affairs and misplaced longings too. 

And Taylor can be quite piercing when it comes to relationships, especially romantic ones, and the lies a person is comfortable with - or the truths they understand but won't admit to anyone, even themselves. You could see the fallout of this one from the start, although I did find the actual conclusion a bit startling and unexpected in the details. In some ways this feels like a book from the 60s but some elements also feel contemporary. It was a train wreck of a read; once I'd begun I really had to finish it to see where she was going with it. I won't forget it quickly. 

A Note in Music

A Note in Music / Rosamond Lehmann
London: Virago, 2001, c1930.
337 p.

Dreamy and imaginative Grace Fairfax is married to Tom, she's 34 and has no children (after a lost pregnancy earlier in their marriage). Her much livelier best friend Norah has 2 sons and is married to Gerald, an annoying, irritable university professor. They live in a northern English town, rather grey and industrial. They are ripe for being dazzled by the arrival of Hugh Miller, charismatic university student, and his lovely sister Claire. 

Hugh and Claire somehow charm both of these couples, and their presence changes the way they all interact. Blustery Tom seems the least affected, but his quiet (and bored) wife falls for all of Hugh's charms, even if Hugh is oblivious to this. Claire vamps Gerald and upsets Norah, even while Norah is also admiring Hugh in a detached way. 

This setup could be edgy in other hands but here it's more melancholy. Hugh doesn't see these older women as women, more as sisters or listeners. But his youth and freedom to shape his own life appeals to them, and opens a window onto another kind of living. And then Hugh and Claire move on, leaving change behind them. Not a lot of change, but an internal shift that is particularly noticeable in Grace. 

Both couples stay together in the end, and somehow these shifts have brought them together more closely rather than broken them up. I believe Grace and Tom's ending, but think that it would be more likely that Norah would have finally left the dour Gerald instead of doubling down on their marriage. 

The plot is pretty slight, the characters are so detached from one another, but the writing is lovely and poetic, with internal dialogues and so much nature description - I liked this quote, which is pretty representative: 

“Some essence of the spirit of the spring day seemed to hover, brooding and shining upon the long, sunny stretch of water. The lake was girdled with trees and bushes, and wild song welled out as if from the throats of hundreds and hundreds of choral branches. The unfolding leaves covered the boughs with a manifold variety of little shapes. Knots, hearts, points, clusters of rosettes, dots and tapers of budding foliage, made up embroideries of infinite complexity in jade, in greenish-silver, in honey-yellow; but some were tinged with a russet flames, haunting the eye with an autumnal prophecy.”

If you're looking for lots of action or character interactions between people who actually communicate, this isn't it. But if you want internal reflection, nostalgia, nature and art, with a fairly vague conclusion, you'll like this one. It sounds like a boring book this way, but it really isn't! I was absorbed in reading this and discovering each isolated character. A melancholy story but well worth reading. 

Thank Heaven Fasting

Thank Heaven Fasting / E.M. Delafield
London: Virago, 1989, c1933.
240 p.

Another book with marriage at its heart, this one is a little bit bleaker than some. It's set in Edwardian England, where young Monica Ingram - only daughter of socially ambitious parents - understands that the only goal of a woman's life is to marry well. 

Young women must be very very careful - reputation is everything. And Monica, with a young and soon faded kind of prettiness, much catch a husband. She has a caller whom she likes, but according to her mother, he is much too young and unimportant for her. And then alas, she gets drawn aside and has her head turned by a rake at a party, being momentarily unguarded. In a moment, her reputation falters. 

Her family takes her away for a while but by next season she sees that the new crop of younger, prettier debutantes have made her life more difficult. She spends a few years festering, with two options appearing on the horizon. One just wants her to listen to his complaints and grumbles, and the other is a froggy looking gentleman of her parents' generation. But needs must, and getting the crumbs of a choice makes Monica happy in the end. As the author notes, Monica "could never, looking backwards, remember a time when she had not known that a woman’s failure or success in life depended entirely on whether or not she succeeded in getting a husband."

This was an interesting read; it shows the utter lack of options for young girls of this class. They have no education, no worldly knowledge at all, no access to money -- marriage is literally the only choice, unless they happen to be a particularly strong natured girl and run off to be a Bohemian. Monica is not that, and she's contrasted with her childhood friends, sisters Frederica and Cecily Marlowe. They have it worse than she does; they are homely and their beautiful mother can't stand them, and makes no effort to help them to a good marriage. Their characters show all the inward neuroticism that arises from their stifled lives. 

This book is a strange mixture, written in that light Delafield tone but full of deadly serious commentary. She reveals, in small details, the stifling world that girls like Monica lived in. The so-called choices open to them are pretty terrible, and to our modern eye, it's almost unbearable to read about their daily round and their disappointed hopes - they have no power to shape or control any of these, and just have to survive them. Despite how lightly the book begins, it's an airless world and a sad ending, from our perspective.

 

Out of the Rain

Out of the Rain / Elizabeth Cadell
Friendly Air Publishing, 2023, c1987.
266 p.

My library had another light Cadell book available on audio so I listened to it right after I finished the last one -- it was quite different, set in a much more recent year. This one feels 70s while the earlier ones felt a bit more 50s/60s somehow. 

Out of the Rain has a single mother, countryside entrepreneurs, and an inheritance scandal to drive the plot. The main character is lawyer Edward Netherford, who lives alone in a service flat and likes his routine. He has 3 obnoxious clients, however, the Brockton siblings, who ask him to retrieve valuable paintings from their late father's second wife which really belong to them. He heads to the country to stay with an old friend and track this second wife down. 

When he arrives one late night, his friend's inn is on fire, and he's sent out to a house that was registered on the local b&b list as all other spots are taken by current displaced guests. This ends up being the heart of the book - neat freak Edward is taken in by the widowed Estelle, her mother, grandfather and three little boys. His mannered city ways are contrasted with Estelle's earthy country views and as always in Cadell's books, the domestic, countrified, traditional way of life is Obviously Much Better. 

There is a bit of a theme going with the Brocktons and mismatched marriages which turn out happily. Edward has to come and go in pursuit of the paintings, and each time stays with Estelle's family and settles in to the general chaos. Somehow he's a natural with fixing things around their house for them, and being a favourite of the three very small children. We can all see where this is going. 

This was a frothy read, mostly forgettable in the end. Not much romance, just quiet hours with Edward adjusting to a view of life so different to his own. There are a few minor subplots, and the Brockton second wife turns out to be an important element in the story (she's a sensible countrywoman who had been the housekeeper). This was okay but the very dated gender roles and hammering home of the idea that lazy country days and a woman's life being subsumed in her children was an ideal state of being didn't really resonate for me at all. I didn't dislike it but don't think I'll search out any more Cadell any time soon. A little bit is enough for now. 

Family Gathering

Family Gathering / Elizabeth Cadell
Friendly Air Publishing, 2018, c1979.
308 p.

I found this book in audio format via my library, and thought I'd check it out -- I've read two books by Cadell before - I quite liked the first and was meh on the second! This one was pretty good though I found there were a number of flaws for a modern reader. It reminds me a bit of the wackiness of a Wodehouse or Waugh novel, in its depiction of an aristocratic country family a bit down on its financial luck but full of eccentrics. 

Natalie Rome is 42 but in this book that is solidly middle aged. She's timid and quiet, but somehow she meets the dashing William and marries him. She's heading to his family seat, Romescourt, to wait for him to return from his deployment. The idea is that she'll stay with his family and find a house for them to live in nearby while she waits. But Natalie has a daughter, Helen, who is a crisp businesswoman in her 20s who loves the city and order. 

Natalie arrives to great chaos; she's picked up from the train station by the spacey Lucille (her new stepdaughter), meets her mother-in-law (a caricature of a country aristocrat who dresses oddly, gardens, talks extremely loudly and doesn't really listen to anyone else, and of course controls life at Romescourt), her father-in-law who loves gardening and doesn't talk much at all, and her new stepson Jeremy, who is also an artist and is presented as quite a catch (spoiler: I couldn't stand him). 

I was enjoying the first half to two thirds of this book - Romescourt and its surrounding houses are a delight, and Lady Rome is a hoot - every time someone does something she doesn't understand, she comments "I don't think they're quite right in the head". I listened to this one on audio, and the reader was hilarious with her characterizations, especially of Lady Rome. 

However, I did find that the story dragged near the end and there were too many crisis points, both with  Lucille's multiple engagments (she's so passive she can't say no) and with the forced romance between Helen and Jeremy. Helen is a confident city girl but is presented as a bossy harridan who needs taking down a peg, and Jeremy is the one to do it -- his behaviour is awful, he's a total jerk, and I didn't believe that Helen would be attracted to him in any way. But they pair up at the end anyhow, maybe because Natalie wants it so much? Definitely of an earlier time. 

So there were some great set pieces in this book and some really amusing characters and moments. But there were also some cringey bits that are very dated and unpalatable to this reader. A mixed bag, but listening to Lady Rome in the first half made this pick worth it ;) 

Four Gardens

Four Gardens / Margery Sharp
London: Dean St Press, 2021, c1935.
228 p.

Another book about a marriage; well, about a woman in a marriage, anyhow. Caroline Chase is a young woman of middle class standing, it's Edwardian England and she's 17, and makes her way into an abandoned garden which she adores. There she meets a rich young man, her age but of a much higher social class. They have a bit of a pash, but of course it will never go anywhere. When she realizes this, the garden is forever ruined for her, and she ends up soon after marrying the dull but dependable clerk Henry Smith. 

Her second garden is the small one in back of their townhouse, in which she barely has time to dig. She now has 2 young children and Henry is working all the time, raising himself up in the shoe factory where he's an office worker. He's so successful, especially as he expands into army boots as the war begins, that he becomes a partner. And their status grows. 

When the children are a bit older, their fortunes allow Henry to provide a large house on the Common, complete with large fancy gardens in which Caroline isn't allowed to potter - they have a gardener. This house belonged to Lady Tregarthan, and Caroline is petrified at first meeting her, when seeing if the house will suit. But Lady T is a doll and they get along splendidly. The Smith children, Leon and Lily, are used to prosperity, and they seem shockingly modern to the staid Caroline, still hanging on to her Edwardian values. The contrast is sharp. Their love affairs and struggles are so important to Caroline, even when she doesn't quite understand them. 

Caroline's fourth garden comes when Henry dies quite suddenly, leaving them nearly broke. They leave the big house - Leon and Lily to their own lives, and Caroline to a small apartment in the town in which she creates a balcony garden all of her own, and finally feels the peace and contentment she had been looking for all her life. Solitude, her own garden, and nobody needing her. Ah, perfection. 

This story is nostalgic, looking back at an earlier era (published in the 30s, it really shows the sudden shift in societal norms between Caroline's generation and that of her children). Caroline is sweet but really put upon, everyone expects her to be there for them and whatever they may need but not much thought is given to Caroline's needs. There are interesting side characters, in particular a whiny friend from her youth who she never quite shakes off, and of course Lady T. And a very obnoxious modernist painter who entangles Lily, but doesn't stick around. 

I thought this was a quieter read, a little less snappy and plot driven than some Sharp stories. Much more a study of a character and of a social setting. And I liked it a lot. Some interesting commentary, and as always, sharp insight into characters and class. 

 

Something Light

Something Light / Margery Sharp
Open Road Media, 2018, c1960.
250 p.

Moving on from Spinster September reading now, to a story about a semi-spinster, a woman turning thirty who decides it's time for her to get married so sets out to find a suitable husband. 

Louisa Datchett is living in London in the 50s. She's a dog photographer for the most part, but she's also soft-hearted. It seems that men will use her as their assistant, agony aunt, substitute mother, delivery person, salesperson for their weird crafts, or bank, but never really see her as marriage material. She decides to go about this very logically, looking for the rich and/or settled person she decides would be best to connect herself with. 

She starts out on her quest, thinking she's getting somewhere with a rich man - but ends up giving him up to a widow, an old friend of his, out of sympathy. (the funniest part of this one was that he admired Louisa's appetite most of all). 

This gives her the idea of going back to an old friend of her own, from her home town. He's steady, he's dependable, he's gainfully employed... he's not at all interested in settling down. 

Then she finds the perfect family man. She's hired as a housekeeper, in a kind of trial run, to meet his children (adults not too much younger than she is) and see how she fits in. But to Louisa's surprise, "At last, she’d met a man she positively disliked. She was no longer indiscriminately fond of men." This obviously isn't an answer. 

So she goes back to work, but is having a hard time finding gigs. Just as she's depending on margarine sandwiches to get through the day, instead of finding a new man, The Man finds her. To the modern reader, he might not seem a perfect catch, but it's clearly a happy ending, Louisa will have money to live on and a husband who seems to adore her. 

There was a lot of humour in this, alongside some appalling male behaviour which is being sharply pointed out, even if not as directly as it would be now. Louisa's reflections on the life of the single woman are both sad and hilarious, but her chipper take on life breaks down in a scene where she is being taken advantage of by another woman instead of just another sad sack man (which she expects). 

Fortunately her luck holds and the book ends with a happy ending on the horizon. Attentive readers will see this coming, but this is still a lighter read than expected - for a Margery Sharp novel you might even call it frothy! I enjoyed this one a lot, and found the dog photography aspect quite entertaining, while wishing Louisa would have given most of the men in her life a good boot long before she finally does it. 

 

Vera, by Elizabeth von Arnim

Vera / Elizabeth von Arnim
London: Virago, 2006, c1921.
336 p.

Here's a reread that features both a spinster and a terrible marriage! I first read this years ago, but wanted to reread, and found that I'd forgotten a lot of it. 

This is Von Arnim's novel which had a lot of scandal around it; it was rumoured to be drawn from her terrible second marriage to Francis Russell, Earl Russell and older brother of Bertrand. 

The setup is this: Lucy Entwhistle, 22, has been living with her father all her life; however, he's just died. She is in the garden taking a break from the upset in the house (he just died that very morning) and along the road comes sweaty Everard Wemyss, 45 and desperate for someone to talk to. He pushes his way in, seeing in Lucy someone who will listen to him. He has his own troubles - his wife Vera has just died. But, Vera's death is suspicious, a potential suicide, and the scandal means he has to take a few weeks to rusticate and seem to be grieving even while he mostly seems annoyed and frustrated by having to change his routine because of Vera's selfishness. 

Lucy doesn't know any of this (yet). She is in shock, and the only other person with her is her spinster aunt, Dorothy Entwhistle. Aunt Dot expects Lucy to come and live with her, which she does for a short time. But Wemyss has given her the rush, and wants to marry her before his proscribed year of mourning is up. Miss Entwhistle finds she doesn't like him, but Lucy is bowled over, and there's not much to do but support them. 

Miss Entwhistle's instincts were correct, however, and after their quick marriage, Lucy finds she is constantly walking on eggshells so as not to upset Wemyss and his multitude of unspoken expectations. They move from his city house to the country house where Vera died, and in response to Lucy's discomfort he tells her she's being neurotic. Everyone must do what he says, and think what he thinks, and focus on his comfort above all -- Miss Entwhistle, coming down to the house when he is away, when Lucy falls ill, finds that she is not at all comfortable or welcome there, having her own mind and a backbone. 

This story is ploddingly terrifying; Wemyss is so selfish and narcissistic, and his nature is revealed slowly, step by step as we see more and more of his natural behaviour and self-justification for abusive interactions. And we also see how weak Lucy is and how malleable. I hated Wemyss, wanted to drag Lucy out by her ear, and loved Miss Entwhistle and hoped for better days ahead. Quite a powerful read, dark and unrelenting. Whew!