We watched leaves and petals flying past our windows as continuing rain accompanied the relentless winds of the last few days.
Needing a little break from the challenges of English History I am pleased that Marina of M. L. Kappa, in a recent post focussed on her admiration of Barbara Pym, thus prompting me to reread
of which this is the Title Page and Frontispiece.
First published in 1952 the book reflects the lives of adults living in postwar London when rationing still kept clothes and comestibles in short supply and difficult to obtain. Although the writer does not make this point, potential husbands, casualties of the Second World War, were also in short supply, thus making a generation of women widows; bearers of engagement rings, no wedding bands, and never-opened bottom drawers.
The future for many was bleak, as it was for Miss Mildred Lathbury. “When my parents died within two years of each other, I was left with a small income of my own, an assortment of furniture, but no home….I worked at the Censorship, for which, very fortunately, no high qualifications appeared to be necessary, apart from patience, discretion, and a slight tendency towards eccentricity.”
The humour apparent throughout the novel is generally sad and often self-disparaging, ” ‘Of course not,’ I said, rather primly, I am afraid’ “
Pym’s language is tight, yet eloquent. “There was a whirring of wings and a crowd of pigeons swooped down onto the flat piece of roof outside the window.” She has an excellent ability for description, often subtly displaying alliteration, awareness of several senses and otherwise unspoken thoughts. “The jingle of the little beaded cover against the milk jug reminded me of Dora and her giggles, her dogmatic opinions and the way she took offence so easily.”
“Excellent women” is a phrase often appearing in the book relating to those, like Mildred, who spend their lives doing good works; caring for others rather than themselves; and making sure always to say the right, never the wrong thing. “It was not the excellent women who got married but people like Allegra Gray, who was no good at sewing, and Helena Napier, who left all the washing up.” When refusing an invitation, ” ‘That’s very kind of you,’ [Mildred] said, speaking slowly to gain time…..” This makes her very indecisive, “I might ask her In to coffee sometime but hesitated about it because I did not quite know how to convey the impression that it was not, of course, to become a regular thing.” “I stood awkwardly, not knowing what to say, I, who had always prided myself on being able to make suitable conversation on all occasions. Somehow no platitude came, the moment passed and Rocky went down to his own flat.”
The story is essentially told through the medium of conversation, at which Barbara Pym is most skilled. ” ‘Oh, but I think I did know, I mean I guessed,’ I said rather quickly and brightly. ‘I’m so glad.’
‘You’re glad? Oh, what a relief!’ She laughed and lit another cigarette.
‘ Well, it seems a very good thing for both of you and I wish you every happiness,’ I mumbled, not feeling capable of explaining any further a gladness I did not really feel.”
Yes, I did enjoy this free flowing work of a comic novelist very carefully constructed, and not always sad, but the skill of describing the internal and external worlds of the main protagonist leaves me full of empathy for a struggling generation. “Julian waved his brush towards me in a despairing gesture, showering everybody with drops of distemper.”
The author is truly insightful. “Virtue is an excellent thing and we should all strive after it, but it can sometimes be a little depressing.”
A. N. Wilson’s introduction is informative, and
Debra McFarlane’s precisely detailed illustrations are perfectly faithful to the text, to the characters and to the period.
This evening we dined on tasty baked gammon; piquant cauliflower cheese; boiled new potatoes, crunchy carrots and tender chopped cauliflower leaves, with which Jackie drank zesty and I finished the shiraz.
