Miss Buncle Married - D E Stevenson

I thought 'Miss Buncle Married' would make for nice gentle holiday reading (how long ago that seems now) and I was right. It's years since I read 'Miss Buncle's Book' and it turns out my memories of it are vague - I think that Miss Buncle writes a book using her neighbours as the characters, and then the things she invents for them come true (or something rather like that), it all gets rather fraught and eventually Miss Buncle is forced to flee the village  - which she does, and falls into the arms of her rather nice publisher Arthur Abbott in the process. 'Miss Buncle Married' picks up the story about a year down the line. Barbara Buncle is now Mrs Abbott and very happy with her Arthur, but if there's a fly in the ointment it's this - they're too popular. Instead of spending time together it's a constant round of dinner parties and bridge which neither of them are really enjoying.

The answer is to move and what follows is a long search for the perfect house, some crazy coincidences, the threat of another novel, and some suitably happy endings. D E Stevenson was a prolific author, and extremely popular in her day, but the majority of her books are distinctly average, 'Miss Buncle's Book' it seems, was the exception that proved the rule - it's genuinely charming. 'Miss Buncle Married' appeared a couple of years later and is 'dedicated to those who liked Miss Buncle and asked for more'. I seem to remember that after Miss Buncle first came out Persephone stated quite clearly that they wouldn't publish the sequels because they simply weren't good enough - taking the book on it's own merits this is quite true, it's a fun read, but lacks the extra something that Persephone books normally have. That said I guess they re-printed it for the same reason Stevenson wrote it - for those who liked Miss Buncle and asked for more, and really what better reason could there be? Not every book has to be a masterpiece and before it was reprinted second hand copies of 'Miss Buncle Married' where around £50 a throw.

It's by no means a bad book, there are plenty of moments when Stevenson offers a piece of real insight or something which made me laugh out loud and for anybody (like me) who enjoyed Miss Buncle it's well worth the time spent on it. There is one thing that really stood out though. The Abbott's new neighbours have 3 children; an older son who despite his angelic appearance leans towards the demonic, a younger son who is placid and reasonably ordinary and inbetween a daughter who clearly has obsessive compulsive issues. There is a heartbreakingly sad little portrait of how she deals with her anxieties towards the end of the book - and it's those moments that make all the difference. 

Magda - Meike Ziervogel

I am familiar with Meike Ziervogel in her role as founder of Peirene Press but now I've had the chance to think of her as a novelist. (It's an aside but I find Peirene's progress encouraging and inspiring. People talk about the death of the book and other such nonsense, but the success of small independent publishers shows that the world is a much better, and much more interesting, place than some would have us believe.) Some time in the dim and distant past I watched a documentary about Magda Goebbels and I've found her an interesting character ever since. The idea of mothers who harm their children seems to have a power to shock like nothing else (nothing else I can think of anyway) but when I first watched that documentary it seemed to me quite possible to empathise with Magda's decision to kill her children, uncomfortable, but possible.

I also read somewhere that the British have such an obsession with the second world war that more books are published about it here than anywhere else in the world, I'm still not quite sure what I make of that but I am interested in how Germany has come to terms with it's 20th century history, and more specifically how we, the British, can accept and discuss that changing relationship with the past. The book that started this interest was Bernhard Schlink's 'The Reader', easily the first time I'd seen a Nazi portrayed with any sympathy, it's an excellent book but Schlink chose to make his heroine a victim of circumstance. 'Magda' moves that process along, Magda is hardly a victim but Ziervogel does make her human.

Fiction that uses real people or events isn't always my cup of tea and I must admit that whilst I enjoyed the first half of 'Magda' enough to carry on reading it wasn't until the second half of the book - when the family arrive in the bunker - that it really came alive to me. The bunker is deftly sketched, mentions of the dark, the close air, the impact of bombs falling over head, drunken soldiers gathered in corners, and whispered conversations as Eva Braun and Hitler's wedding preparations are made heighten the sense of tension and claustrophobia as the story winds towards it's inevitable conclusion. 

It's at this point that Magda's eldest daughter, Helga, really makes her impact on the narrative. She's recording her experiences in the bunker - the day to day life, first love, and a growing sense of unease with her mother. For Helga and the children there is the idea that life is the thing, and that the future will take care if itself. They have been shielded from the reality of war, even into the last days the possibility of defeat is inconceivable, the talk of soldiers who say it's so seems iconoclastic to the point of blasphemy. For Magda there is the reality of the situation, she knows what the consequences of defeat are likely to be for the first lady of the Reich. Ziervogal chooses to have Magda believe in Hitler with a religious fervour so that her final act is a blend of loyalty and protectiveness amongst other things.

In truth I've always been inclined to see what Magda did as at least in part an act of compassion. Her children would have had a hard legacy to bear. In a letter to her eldest son from a previous marriage Magda stated that Our glorious idea is ruined and with it everything beautiful and marvellous that I have known in my life. The world that comes after the Führer and national socialism is not any longer worth living in and therefore I took the children with me (or at least something like it, that quote is lifted from wikipedia). What kind of life can you imagine for those children, and later yet their children? 

'Magda' is a complex portrait of a difficult and emotive situation. It's good to read about these names from history as people rather than monsters, and worthwhile to try and understand what drives a person to do terrible things. The result is something that has lingered in my mind and imagination weeks after reading it and which I wholeheartedly recommend.  

Re-decorating

battered but comfortable old bedroom

emptied, dusted, and de spidered 

I've been planning on re-decorating my bedroom for ages, but have been put off by the botheration factor of moving the bookcase, however it was a job well overdue. My bed had been held up by a couple of old wine boxes for the last year so after finally ordering a new one I thought it would be a good time to do the lot. It's been a tiring 24 hours. I was right to be put off by moving the bookcase; I don't care that IKEA's Billy bookcase is now a sort of classic, my one is a bloody nuisance that's unwilling to stand upright, and inclined to total collapse when moved (the back fell off which meant the uprights lent considerably, and it needs to be wedged into place with card under the front of the damn thing or I'm sure it would crush me in my sleep). 

There was also the problem of dismantling my old bed properly - despite some bits of it falling apart the nuts

the was it a mistake moment

and bolts were just fine and I'm not overburdened with tools - I'm almost 40 and have so far managed quite well with a couple of screwdrivers, a small hammer, and several corkscrews. The corkscrews are useful for opening the wine which generally secures the help and toolboxes of better equipped girlfriends. Last time the bed went up my dad was here (plenty of tools, always, never mind how far from home he is) without him it looked like I was going to be stuck, but then god bless him the Scottish one turned up, and he too it seems never leaves home without some sort of handy tool kit. 

almost sorted

So by 7 this morning I was ready to start painting (it's remarkably easy to get up early when you sleep on the floor) at which point I had a total panic about the colour I'd chosen (the Scottish one hates it). I wanted dark grey but when I opened the tin it looked suspiciously brown (because of ordering the bed and getting delivery for a day off and all the other nonsense there wasn't time to get a sample and then go back to get more paint so I took a chance). It went on the wall brown too but started to dry to the colour grey that was on the tin which cheered me up - until I started on the second coat which has dried brownish. It's not a bad colour but I'm only 90% sure about it. 

and meanwhile all the rest of my flat looks like this

My friend the blonde came round (with tools, but we didn't need them in the end) and we assembled the new bed with ease (didn't even break a sweat, or swear) and now almost everything but the books are back in place. They're going to wait until I can re alphabetise them (and face the idea of more bending and lifting without wincing) and I'm going to make good use of one of those corkscrews. 

Possibly the most exciting competition I've ever seen!

This is a Penguin press release for a competition that sounds amazing, if I could commit the time I'd be doing my damnedest to win it, but as it is all I can do is share the details here and look forward to following the progress of whoever does win. 

This summer we’re celebrating The Old Ways’ spirit of adventure with a competition aimed at

finding and fostering a new generation of explorers and thinkers.

We’re pleased to announce The Penguin Wayfarer Competition, to celebrate the paperback publication of The Old Ways by Robert Macfarlane (published in Penguin Paperback on 30th May, 2013). The competition launches today - May 13^th at ajourneyonfoot.com.

Show us around your favourite ancient tracks, holloways, and sea paths and you could spend your summer trekking across the country for Penguin Books and The Old Ways by Robert Macfarlane. We’re looking for someone who doesn't mind getting their boots dirty, can string a sentence or two together, and who can get creative about how they share their journey with the world – you should already know your way around social networks and be able to produce short videos on your own. 

The winner will become our Wayfarer and will get to travel around the UK during all of July and August on our shout (so please only enter if you’ll be available all summer). You’ll visit some of the Old Ways paths, but more importantly, you’ll strike out on your own and make some new discoveries, on or off the beaten path. You will then report back on your adventures through blog posts, photos, videos and tweets.

Sound like the perfect way to spend your summer? Head to our entry page at ajourneyonfoot.com and submit a short (two-minute) video before midnight on Sunday, June 9.

From there we’ll choose a longlist of 20 and hand it over to the public to vote for their favourite Wayfarer. Robert Macfarlane will choose the winner from the top 10 vote-getters and we’ll announce the Wayfarer winner on June 28.

Could you be the next Robert Macfarlane?

The Wayfarer Mission

→ you will be available five days a week during July/August and flexible with evenings/weekends.

→ you will plan a travel itinerary with feedback and approval from the Penguin team.

→ you will work with the Penguin team to keep the travel itinerary to a budget – accommodation will most often involve camping! (but camping equipment generously provided by Snow + Rock)

→ you will stay in touch with the Penguin team during your travels and post online content at least five days a week.

Prizes

The Wayfarer will receive a daily fee and travel expenses from Penguin during July-August, camping and outdoor equipment from Snow + Rock (value: £2500), a two-month train pass from CrossCountry Trains, select accommodation and activities covered by Virgin Experience Days, and the longlist and shortlist prizes below.

The 20 longlisted candidates will receive a signed copy of The Old Ways paperback. The 10 shortlisted candidates will also receive a limited edition print by Stanley Donwood based on the linocut he created for The Old Ways paperback jacket, signed by both Donwood and Macfarlane.

Kitchen thinking

Pottering around my kitchen (radio 4 on in the background) browsing through cook books, a cup of tea or

coffee to hand, and planning things to make comprise some of the most contented moments in my life. In a quiet way it's often where I'm happiest, it's the room I miss most when I'm away, and it's where a lot of my favourite toys live. I don't attribute any particularly mystical properties to cooking or welcome any pressure to emulate a particular lifestyle, but for me it works and the books are an integral part of that - I like following a recipe, love understanding how a dish is put together and finding the flavours which define a specific style.

Because of all these things I'm always looking out for cookbooks and regardless of the ones I go home with it's fascinating to see what's out there. I have definite cookbook turn off's - I don't really care for pink covers, I prefer content over style which is why I'm drawn to publishers like Prospect and Grub Street (who are quite stylish enough and have the classiest of content) and have lost patience with Tessa Kiros' books which are far to pretty to get grubby (also one of them arranges recipes by colour which is a cute idea, but cute isn't really my thing - not that I'm parting with it). I can resist the lure of classic French (as opposed to regional French) food, this is partly because francophiles annoy me, (not the French, I don't have a problem with the French, honest) and partly because it's the sort of food that I want to be cooked for me. 

Despite those prejudices I've managed to gather quite a collection of cookbooks - and still want more, but finding a book that fills a gap isn't easy which is one reason to be so excited by Lindsey Bareham's 'The Trifle Bowl and Other Tales'. I hadn't really registered Bareham as a food writer before despite having her soup book on my shelf but I'm aware now. I haven't actually looked at any of recipes in here yet, but I've sat up late of an evening reading about all the bits and pieces of kit - the premise of  'The Trifle Bowl and Other Tales' is that the equipment we use on a daily basis gather as many memories and as much meaning as the food we cook and share so here Lindsey takes the utensils as the cue for each recipe whilst giving helpful advice on sourcing and caring for those utensils. 

Memories aside I've had ample opportunity over the last couple of weeks to consider how much equipment shapes what I cook. My stepmother is a cook by trade so despite their place in the Borders basically being a holiday home the kitchen is reasonably well equipped - and it has the beloved aga. The aga invites it's own kind of cooking (muffin, scone, and stew heaven for a week) but other things bought me up short (couldn't find a mortar and pestle), it's funny how much you appreciate something when you suddenly don't have it to hand. I won't cook in my partners kitchen if I can help it - I've never got used to his fan oven and no longer like cooking on gas (I have long hair and once managed to singe the ends of it on a gas ring, I was lucky, it could have been nasty. I wear my hair up now.) more fundamental however is that he doesn't even have a rolling pin - he and his kitchen are perfectly adapted to each other but for me it's hard work.

'The Trifle Bowl and Other Tales' has got me thinking and feeling inspired - always a good start, expect to see plenty more about it here!

  

A Murder of Quality - John le Carré

This was my first John le Carré; I chose it after a conversation with a charming elderly gentleman in a A Murder of Quality' because it was short. Long books put me off when it comes to authors I haven't read before, especially when it's a book outside of my normal reading choice which le Carré is. I was also attracted to 'A Murder of Quality' because it sounded so atypical - this is a murder mystery set in a private school with George Smiley in the detective role rather than the cold war thrillers I associate with him, but it does come in a neat little package.

bookshop (although I don't think he really approved of my reasoning) he told me the earlier books were by far the best, I chose '

What I really wanted from this book was to know whether I would get on with le Carré or not - I did so at some point will doubtless set about tackling his whole back catalogue - but what really interested me in 'A Murder of Quality', and what I assume might not be such a central theme in the spy novels is the way le Carré chooses to look at the British class system. It's a system that's still flourishing in much the same way now as it was in 1962 when 'A Murder of Quality' was first published. The BBC recently ran a thing suggesting that the old definitions of class were out of date, they identified 7 specific classes and devised a calculator so you can work out where you belong and whilst it's not entirely convincing it is quite interesting. 

John le Carré's own career certainly bought him into enough contact with the public school system, including Eton (where he taught) to be well versed in the manners and language of  the upper classes - something he mercilessly exposes here. Carne school could be modelled on any of a dozen important private schools - but not Eton or Harrow. It has it's customs, language, and manners as well as a staff mostly made up of old boys who determinedly drop into conversation how friendly they are with the local Lord whilst judging the quality of each others silver. There is however an interloper - a grammar school boy who's made it onto the staff along with his wife, Stella, who has china ducks on the wall and will not fit in. She's the victim but who's the culprit and will the old school ties be enough to cover his tracks?

Le Carré clearly has a bit of fun with all this and whilst some of the details (things like how a man hitches his trousers when he sits) were a bit over my head as class indicators most of it was unsettlingly familiar - oh, how harshly we judge those whose manners aren't quite our own. I would be interested to read a contemporary novel that covered much the same sort of ground - the closest thing I've come across was Julian Fellows 'Snobs' which was nowhere near as subtle or interesting so any recommendations would be gratefully received. As for 'A Murder of Quality'; it's a decent whodunnit but an absolutely excellent piece of social observation and commentary. 

Revisiting Ring of Bright Water

When I wrote about 'Peking Picnic' a couple of weeks ago I mentioned the postal book group I'm in. Well my book was 'Ring of Bright Water' Simon was the last person to read it, and both book and accompanying notebook landed in my mailbox just before I went on holiday. 'Ring of Bright Water' has a special place in my heart, it's a book I've read many times over the years but it was really as a homesick teenager that it got under my skin. I already had a bit of an Otter obsession after close encounters with them in Shetland, 'Ring' was published in 1960 so in the late 80's it read as nostalgic but still quite recognisable. Re- reading it last year with another 25 odd years on the clock Maxwell's way of life and the world he led it in seems much further away - at least all of it's 60 odd years...

I will admit that I was nervous opening the notebook to see what everyone thought of this book - I'm aware it's not perfect, and knew when I sent it off that it was something I'd spent years fruitlessly trying to get the group to embrace - so as a group choice it was a bit of a gamble, and I would have hated it if nobody had liked it. Happily pretty much everybody did like it (huge relief) which is a great testament to Maxwell's writing.

Maxwell at his best really is a terrific writer, I have most of his books but am only really familiar with the Otter series - of which 'Ring' is by far the most appealing, his childhood memoir ('The House of Elrig' - worth searching out), and 'Harpoon at a Venture' which I consider to be his best book and desperately in need of being reprinted. His charisma jumps off the page in 'Ring' in a way that's made this book a lifelong friend, I suspect the man himself would have been considerably more difficult to get along with which is one reason I've never read his biography. A few of my book group friends had though and it was recommended a couple of times in the notebook. I know enough about Maxwell to know that 'Ring of Bright Water' is the varnished truth. There are omissions and occasional romancing - all of which makes for a better book - but perhaps it's time to read a little bit more about the man behind the book...

It's an irony that the success of 'Ring of Bright Water' contributed to the end of Maxwell's highland idyll, although my impression of Maxwell is that he'd always find a way to make a mess out of his life. Maybe that's part of the appeal of this book. The otter bit is emotional and funny - until it becomes tragic, the bits about the west highlands are classic British nature writing at it's best, but what I notice now is the window onto my grandfathers generation. Men who had grown up between wars, fought in the second one, and had to try and make sense of that post war world. Maxwell was ridiculously well connected with the privileges and introductions that went along with that, his life was fascinating and full of incident, but there is so much failure - he was part of a generation of gentlemen adventurers who seem long gone now.  

Holidays and Bread

I've been away in the Scottish borders for a week - it's a part of the country I love more each time I go there. It has idyllic scenery packed full of romantic architecture and history, we saw a deer in the garden (it was a badger last time), there are house martins nesting above the windows, we heard wood peckers in the trees behind the house, and there's a particularly brilliant bookshop a couple of villages away - what's not to love. We're lucky to have a particularly comfortable flat to borrow, it has an aga in it which has rather added to my love affair with the location and basically means I've spent the last week living a pleasantly middle class dream.  

With the aga waiting for me part of my holiday packing was the River Cottage 'Bread' handbook. I can't remember now if it was the first or second book from the River Cottage series that I bought but it was certainly the one that sold me on them, I think it's the best basic bread guide around - I've certainly not seen anything to beat it yet. What I particularly like about all the handbooks is the general format they share. The size is convenient, they feel nice, and you get a lot of information packed into a neat little package. In this case there are instructions for making an outdoor bread oven, a few recipes for left over bread (the summer pudding is excellent) and things to put on it (nettle pesto, beetroot houmous), and of course there are a lot of bread recipes.

The basic loaf is fool proof - thanks to the very good instructions that explain not only what you do to make a successful loaf, but also why you do it - which I always like to know. Just recently though I've discovered a love of English Muffins - it's taken me a while, I'm not sure why it's taken me all these years to discover them but it has, still now I've discovered them there's no holding back. I had looked up Dan Lepard's recipe but good as it sounds it's also quite a long winded take on the humble muffin. Daniel Stevens version here is rather simpler, relatively quick to make (nothing with yeast is quite instant) and absolutely delicious. The recipe is here.

Other holiday highlights included a couple of visits to the excellent Mainstreet Trading Company, it's a

combination of bookshop, cafe, home ware stuff, and now a deli. The bookshop part is one of those fantastic independent stores which manage to cram all sorts of good things into quite a small space without feeling in the least bit crowded. The cafe is very nice as is the deli and all the other bits. It's a great example of how this kind of thing should be done - every time I've been there it's been busy and is over all far more than the sum of it's parts. There was also plenty of time for reading, as well as just sitting enjoying the scenery (whilst drinking champagne and eating scones) so basically the perfect getaway. 

It's a sad day when...

My very local Waterstones is closing down. The news was in the Leicester Mercury today and for all the world I felt like I was reading an obituary. Until June 1st Leicester has 2 branches of Waterstones both of which are perhaps most accurately described as adequate bookshops which is no reflection on the staff who have always been wonderful (Nottingham Waterstones by comparison is excellent but then it also feels like it's always had a bit more love from on high) my branch used to be a Dillons and once upon a time it was the best bookshop I'd ever seen. 

In all honesty Leicester doesn't need 2 branches within a quarter of a mile of each other and the closure of 1 branch has seemed inevitable ever since Dillons and Waterstones became one. I'm sorry that they're closing the larger branch partly because it has space for a better range but mostly because I have a deep emotional attachment to that shop. I used to spend Saturdays browsing there when paperbacks were about £2.50 each and when it had a theology department that also sold church candles - you know, back in the good old days when bookshops were really bookshops... 

Over the years I've spent thousands of pounds and as many hours in that shop. In the Costa (resented because it took good book selling space) I've drunk endless coffee's with friends, it's where the Scottish one first suggested we meet for tea and buns (how could he fail to be the right man for me after that?), I used to have a sneaky skive in there when I worked round the corner, and it's been the one shop in town I go in every time I go into town. 

Personal reasons aside though it's sad to see another shop go, it's a large building with enough age and charm to make it hard to imagine anybody else taking it on any time soon. The city centre is - well whatever it is, it isn't thriving, these are grim times, and however much sense this particular closure makes it still feels like something to mourn - and as much as I'll miss the shop I'll miss the staff more, I hope the next month isn't too hideous for them.

Where does the time go?

I realise I haven't been posting much here over the last few weeks, nor have I been reading as many books (though I've bought more recently than any time on the last few years), and there are emails I've been meaning to send for a week that I haven't done anything about. Having a cold hasn't helped - I will say again that I'm rubbish about colds, and although this one hasn't been as vile as it might I resent it's turning up as spring finally begins, also it's been enough to make work hideous. 

The final demise of Margaret Thatcher has had it's effect to - I've resisted posting about it because really others have said it all better and there's more than enough on the subject out there already. What I will say is that the Thatcher years bookended my childhood so I'm a sucker to be stirred up by all the media furore over her death. It's years since I've read the papers quite as avidly (eating into the book time). Thank heavens I'm on holiday soon (one week to go and I'm crossing the days off) which will hopefully mean time to catch up with myself for bit and time to read some of the, by now frankly overwhelming, pile of books I've been collecting.

Meanwhile today has been a lovely foretaste of what time off should be like despite most of my plans falling through - up to and including going out for milk; I went out for milk and came back with books, no milk. I'm particularly pleased to have found copies of Meike Ziervogel's 'Magda' in both my local Waterstones; they almost never have a book I'm actually looking for though plenty that I'm not but find I want once I've seen them (including today's example of L. M. Montgomery's 'The Blue Castle'). The highlight though was breakfast with the sun streaming through the window and a pile of cookbooks deciding what to cook for this evening. It feels like an age since I cooked anything new (or looked for a recipe which wasn't basically cake), inspiration came from 'Jekka's Herb Cookbook' for pork belly roasted with a garlic and myrtle crust (Jekka's version was for bay, but I have a myrtle on my windowsill and it makes a good swap). 

I had forgotten how exciting this book is and spent some time bookmarking pages (lavender and sweet wine jelly is sounding like a must) before taking it as a cue to go and have a more general sort out. Incidentally part of the charm of this book are the illustrations by Hannah McVicar - they can be ordered here and I'm sorely tempted which rather makes the point that it's not just books I accumulate. There is a lot of stuff in my flat and it's past time for some redecorating (I was burgled 6 years ago, there are still burgler fingerprints on one wall and they're still there because the effort of moving bookcases to paint properly has been to off putting, but this year it's happening), To make it happen there will need to be a damn good clear out (youngest sister has agreed to accept some 'presents' for her new flat) I don't know quite how this will go; I'm much better at getting things than getting rid of them but I'm optimistic. 

Peking Picnic - Ann Bridge

'Peking Picnic' was written at much the same time as 'Heat Lightning' and both are in some way concerned with finding a code for living and loving by (both have also had glowing reviews from Book Snob)  but otherwise I found them very different books - 'Peking Picnic' troubles me which is not what I expected at all.

I've been part of a postal book group for the last four years - it's a nice old fashioned idea whereby a circle of readers send books to one another with a notebook - when the circle is complete you get both back with a whole lot of comments. 'Peking Picnic' is the last book for me in this round so I can see from the notebook that plenty of others like it very much indeed. I however have two issues with it, one is pacing - very little happens for 180 pages and then all of a sudden there is hostage episode with some murderous brigands, some surprising gymnastic feats, love affairs are started, and an unexpected death - it made the book feel very unbalanced to me and raised questions about how genuine some of the characters emotions could be.

The second issue is the heroine and her philosophy. Laura Leroy is the wife of a British diplomat and at the centre of the diplomatic community in Peking. She reminds me of Vita Sackville-West as a young woman, but is more likely a version of Ann Bridge herself. She's cool and wise, physically active, capable in a crisis, attractive and intelligent, but all this is mixed with a streak of self indulgence that I find problematical. Laura loves China (the description of Peking and it's surrounding countryside is a wonderful snapshot of life there in 1931 and the book's worth reading for that alone) seems reasonably happy with her life and husband, although she misses her children back at school in England, and yet there's something amiss.

I've long cherished a theory that in a society where divorce is a major scandal, adultery is likely to be tacitly accepted as long as it's discreet (it's probably not a theory that bears much examination but this book seems to bear it out). Laura's theory is that love is never a waste, she has had 3 loves in her life and by the end of the book is contemplating a 4th. Not for the sex - that's something she considers agreeable but only a small part of loving - but for the whole spectrum of emotions that go with love. Her husband is 1 of the 3 loves, she won't leave him, won't do anything that jeopardises access to her children, but won't be faithful to him either which sits at odds with her apparent integrity. When another character asks if her husband knows about the infidelity she's just confessed too she explains how cruel that would be - she doesn't mention that it might be inconvenient as well - and that's my problem. I feel that when you prod Laura's philosophy it doesn't hold together, my overall impression is of someone who has her cake and eats it too.

After finishing the book I read a bit more about Bridge who was apparently annoyed by her own diplomat husbands philandering which has made me wonder if this - her first novel - was partly meant to let him know it could work both ways, or maybe just a hint not to take his wife for granted (either way it made me warm to Laura Leroy a little). It's a book I found more interesting than enjoyable, and though I wouldn't rule out reading more Bridge if it comes my way I'm not sure I'll go looking for her. 

Heat Lightning - Helen Hull

'Heat Lightning' is exactly the sort of book I associate with Persephone (and then I'm constantly surprised by how varied their list is) and I'll say it now - quite an odd one to read whilst there's still traces of snow on the ground (although thankfully it's starting to warm up) because oppressive heat is inescapable in the novel.

Amy Norton is visiting her parents somewhere in the mid west, she's recuperating from an operation and also running away from something uncomfortable in her marriage. Back at home in the stifling heat of that mid western summer Amy is able to observe her family with some of the impartiality of an outsider and hopes that this will give her some clarity to help deal with her own problems. It's also 1930 - the drought stricken summer that followed the stock market crash of 1929  - still the beginning of the depression and all sorts of storms are about to break over the Westover family.

Patricia McClelland Miller raises a couple of points in her introduction which I found particularly interesting. The first is about the American search for a national identity in the face of a lack of common tradition. This is something that was a major theme in American art (or perhaps more properly in the arts) at the time, the Westover family has acquired first and second generation immigrants amongst it's daughter in laws who bring their own cultural values and expectations with them. One of the problems Amy is grappling with is her attempt to work out her own set of values to live by in a constantly shifting society. The second point, and it's worth some consideration, is about the changing fortunes of domestic and 'feminine' fiction. McClelland says that ' When Helen Hull's earlier novels were described as 'women's books', reviewers meant that they were written on controversial topics from a woman's point of view.' By the 1930's though it became a somewhat more pejorative term, it still is, but really - why should it be? 

When Amy returns home it's to find the family suffering from the heat and all a little bit on edge. Things aren't going well in her father's business, nor are they looking good for her uncle. Cousin Tom may be having an affair with the maid, and Grandmother Westover promptly reveals that the increasingly erratic man she has to do the garden is in fact her husbands illegitimate son - his learning difficulties persuaded her that something had to be done for him and she's not the woman to renege on her responsibilities. 

As the heat shows no sign of breaking the tension increases, the cracks in Amy's marriage show, the financial implications of the depression get closer to home for Dewitt Westover who's about to show just what a man will do for money and then something happens which utterly alters the family dynamic. There's a lot going on in this book, Hull uses this extended family to work through all sorts of ideas - and the genius of it is that everybody has a domestic setting of some sort whereas our experience of the world outside of the home is something else entirely. 

It's not the biggest spoiler to reveal that Amy's husband has been unfaithful , and as the book I'm struggling to finish at the moment is also about what I'm coming to think of as good old fashioned adultery, it's interested me to see the differences. In this case the marriage has hit a rough patch where both Amy and Geoffrey are out of sympathy with each other. When Amy catches him out she's not in a position to immediately have it out with him and when they do they manage to be honest with each other. The implication is that they might be able to repair things but that it won't be easy. As examples Amy has, amongst others, her grandmother who was able to accommodate her husbands indiscretions within their marriage somehow, her mother who has made her father her life, and an aunt who's marriage failed after a series of infidelities. Examining all those relationships allows her - and the reader - to consider what she wants from her own husband and what she's prepared to give. 

It's a rewarding book as well as a really enjoyable one, it's also a book to go back to and one that I whole heartedly recommend.   

Lost in the Stacks

Danielle at A Work In Progress has asked me to take part in her Lost In The Stacks series, as I love looking at other peoples bookshelves almost as much as I love talking about my own books I was entirely chuffed by this invitation - so just in case you don't get enough of me here please go and have a look over there.

In this picture (it's actually quite odd to see images of my flat on someone else's blog, though I'm not quite sure why that should be?) you can just make out two paintings by one of my favourite artists Ruth Brownlee I think her work is extraordinary and long for more of it (in the event of fire or flood it's the paintings I'd grab, not books) she really is worth looking up (and buying from whilst she's still affordable) so I'm quite pleased to have sneaked these in even if they are hard to see.

Warpaint - Alicia Foster

As any regular reader here will know I don't read much new fiction at all, less that could come under the 

heading of historical fiction, and even less that's set in the twentieth century. For the most part I feel that there were plenty of perfectly good novels written at the time which cover the things I'm interested in and which don't have the distracting element of somebody trying to get the period details right or drawing my attention to the details to show how spot on they are. Sometimes though a book comes along that throws something new into the mix, generally things that couldn't, or wouldn't have been openly discussed, and with 'Warpaint' those are more things I'm interested in.

Alicia Foster has a history of art PhD, published works on Gwen John and catalogued theTate's collection of work by women artists 'Warpaint' is an offshoot of some of that research - an intriguing mix of actual and imagined events. 'Warpaint' deals specifically with 4 female artists - the real Dame Laura Knight and 3 fictionalised characters - Faith Farr, Cecily Browne, and Vivienne Thayer (based reasonably closely on the actual artists Grace Golden, Evelyn Dunbar, and Isabel Delmar). It takes place over the winter of 1942/43 and opens with a courier delivering something highly secret to a discreet gothic villa somewhere in the vicinity of Bletchley park before heading off to the London office of Sir Kenneth Clark in his capacity as head of the War Artists Advisory Committee...

A repellent young man (Aubrey Smith) has been given the unwelcome job of trying to get some work out of Dame Laura, Faith, and Cecily none of whom seem to be as grateful or fawning as he would like. For Dame Laura this is the chance to paint something important and she'll be damned if she lets the ministries desire for wholesome and uplifting pictures get in the way of that. Faith is embroiled in her own drama and traumatised by what she's seen and experienced - she wants to record the world she sees and isn't very interested in producing propaganda. Cecily, from the WAAC point of view is the least troublesome - she's happy to produce uplifting pieces showing women doing their best in difficult circumstances - even if the women she meets aren't behaving quite as she's like them too. Vivienne works for her husband at 'Black' - based in that discreet villa. It's her job to turn out postcard images designed to play on the paranoia of enemy servicemen.  

Foster uses these different women 'to explore the efforts of those in power to create and control representation, in both it's official and wholesome, and it's covert and more sinister, aspects' she also has a bit of fun with a spy story and a love affair. I think the book really comes alive when talking about the art - it's a nice touch that Foster describes paintings by the real life counterparts of her fictional creations; I had a very nice time tracking down images, the visual element added something special. Beyond the fun of it Foster uses these images really effectively to make her point, she also picks up on imagery from films - the stiff upper lip, brave little woman stuff that we all know and which has become our memory of that collective past - and keeps prodding at it, pointing out how unrealistic those representations of women are. 

Initially I felt that the misogyny was overdone but actually it isn't. Looking at old posters is a stark reminder of how things were. I really liked this book, it's not all perfect, but it's got me thoroughly interested in it's issues and sent me off looking for all sorts of things and any book that does that is a gem.