Excellent Women - Barbara Pym

I had plans for this week - mostly involving rather more reading and blogging about Barbara Pym but a series of minor frustrations and discomforts - everything ranging from the under wire on my bra snapping at a most inopportune moment and stabbing me hours before I could get home to dispose of the dratted thing to my email account being hacked - long term it's the email which has caused more pain. I cannot regain access to it despite spending what turned into hours of trying, which was followed by more hours of setting up a new account and changing passwords on everything else, eventually I'll have to track down some lost addresses as well and there were a few outstanding things for work. Otherwise I'm hoping that's an end to it and it is at least nice to no longer open my inbox to find nothing but spam and mailing list bumph.

Meanwhile I have been slowly working my way through 'Excellent Women' again, which was the first Pym I ever read. Although I still have a few to read for the first time (I have, but haven't read, 'Quartet in Autumn' and 'Civil to Strangers', don't have, and haven't read 'The Sweet Dove Died' or 'A Few Green Leaves') I was really in the mood for 1950's Pym where if she's not at her best (though I suspect she is) I'm certainly most comfortable with her. 

The first thing that struck me about 'Excellent Women' was that it's much better than I remembered, I mean I remember it being good, but second time around it felt much more than that. I see a lot of my own life in this book; I live alone, am increasingly set in my ways (as is my partner, if we ever do live together it will have to be in a very big house, or a house with a very big shed) and know my share of excellent women. There is also Mildred's preoccupation with food, something I particularly associate with Pym's writing.  'Excellent Women' mentions a lunch she throws together of lettuce dressed with olive oil, some Camembert, and fresh bread which I assume is at least partly a reference to Elizabeth David's writing as well as the influence of her own time in Naples, she also has a Chinese cookbook on her shelf amongst the religious texts one might expect from a vicars daughter. 

I doubt that I picked up on the food references as much first time round, but they point to the romantic element of Mildred's character, suggesting a passion that's well disguised behind sensible fawn skirts, brown hats, and  the obligatory cups of tea. It also makes me question how reliable a narrator she is when it comes to her own affairs, especially her relationship with Everard Bone...

I have noticed that a few people reviewing Pym books this week have mentioned how they like rather than love her (this includes me) and I wonder if this is partly because plot plays a secondary role to character. I've undoubtedly enjoyed 'Excellent Women' more this time because knowing the plot, such as it is, has left me free to enjoy the detail and appreciate the sly wit behind her observations. Mildred's life, though it has it's pleasures, clearly lacks - there are humiliating references to her spinsterhood and yet she's also clear eyed about the downside of marriage. 

When I say I think a book has aged well or stood the test of time, rather than being of it's time, I mean that what I notice are the things which haven't changed, this is why the best of Pym has stood the test of time. When I read about Mildred the 60 years since 'Excellent Women' was first published fall away, the odd detail may indicate the books vintage but in essence everything, and everybody, is recognisable so thank you for Pym reading week and the nudge to re-assess her work.

Barbara Pym's Birthday

Today would have been Barbara Pym's 100th birthday and there's something particularly satisfying about the idea that it's being so widely celebrated. In Pym's own lifetime it looked inevitable that she would be forgotten when in the early 1960's her novels were rejected by publishers on the grounds they were to old fashioned, rediscovery came in 1977 and then periodically ever since. My personal moment of discovery came in 2008 when Virago republished 'Excellent Women' as part of a celebratory hard back series - a few people had said she was good and the book was attractively displayed in front of me, it was enough. Virago have since reprinted most of her books which I've dutifully read and enjoyed, and now I'm reading some of them again.

Truthfully Pym is an author I like (a lot) rather than love - though real, deep, true love may well come as I get to know her work better - she is however the sort of author I love - a woman writing about the life of ordinary single women with humour and intelligence. In a society that arguably holds the women Pym writes about in particularly low esteem it's heartening to read these books which is one reason I wanted to join in with this weeks celebrations (and she really is a very good writer).

My local church, St Mary De Castro, is somewhere I've wanted to get inside of for a while, eventually it made sense (even to my atheist self) to go along to a service. I'd already gathered it was quite a high church, I now know it's actually Anglo-Catholic (very Pym), we first went a couple of weeks ago, and I thought I'd go back today with a friend. It was a good choice, it's a friendly as well as ancient church, beautiful inside and very welcoming (they are also open at various times in the week, inevitably when I'm at work, but if you're ever in Leicester it's well worth a  visit). Church has never been a big part of my life, growing up in Scotland I didn't find the local churches particularly interesting (very dour), as an adult my interest has been purely architectural  - I've been missing out.

The building comes alive when it's being used rather than looked at, faith aside there's something very comforting about the ritual of church - it made me tidy up last night in a way that I might not ordinarily have bothered to do after a long week, it also got me out of bed and dressed this morning hours before I might have - both are good things and I'll be going back. It's also giving me a better understanding of Pym's churchy women.

After that it was scones and tea in town as part of Heavenali's Barbara Pym virtual tea party (the idea being that lots of people celebrate her birthday with tea and cake, which is definitely a winning idea). I've also baked a cake...

There are lots of Pym related things happening as part of the reading week, do have a look here (on the off chance you didn't already know about it) and now I think the only thing left to do is enjoy a gin and tonic (as I'm sure Miss Pym would have done). 

Barbara Pym Reading Week

Barbara Pym reading week is here and the first thing I need to do is finish my book...it

Crampton Hodnet - Barbara Pym

'Crampton Hodnet' has a curious history, Pym wrote it in the early days of the war and it was finished by spring 1940 - when she put it in ice. Louis De Bernieres speculates as to why in the introduction; it seems likely that work, love, and war all got in the way, and that when she looked at it again it felt dated, it may also have been that she didn't feel entirely satisfied with it.

Happily Pym kept the manuscript and Hazel Holt rescued it after her death, gave it a bit of a brush up, and it was finally posthumously published in 1985 and now again by Virago. It's a curious book, initially I assumed it had been written just before the war given that the central theme is how little some things change, but 1940 also makes sense and accounts just as well for the distinctly nostalgic edge to the book. After the war 'Crampton Hodnet' probably did feel out of kilter with the mood of the moment, but now it's an absolute delight.

This isn't quite classic Pym though all the ingredients are in place. There are a couple of outrageously camp young men who veer too far into caricature to be really satisfying and the general tone perhaps aims for a broader comedy than in some of her later books but this is a really lovely read. Miss Morrow is a wonderful creation; a thirty something spinster working as a ladies companion to a far more forceful spinster, the elderly, and perfectly foul, Miss Doggett. Miss Morrow's lot is hardly an enviable one but her sense of humour carries her through. The arrival of Mr Latimer a handsome, as well as eligible, curate in the Doggett household seems at first to offer a promise of change, maybe even romantic escape for Miss Morrow and if it wasn't for Crampton Hodnet maybe there would have been romance.

Miss Morrow is definitely an excellent woman so when she hears Mr Latimer tell a not very convincing lie it's a shock to her - curates should be above such things,, and after that I couldn't see Mr Latimer as deserving Miss Morrow at all. The other major strand in the plot concerns the marriage of Francis and Margaret Cleveland. Francis is a good looking middle aged Don, Margaret has reached a point where her husband is a thing to be taken for granted and not entirely seriously. Their marriage has basically been a success but the romance is a distant memory when an attractive young student threatens to upset everything.

Barbara Bird adores Francis but would far rather he stayed on a pedestal, when he starts to reciprocate her feelings in a classic mid life crisis it turns out to be not at all what she wanted all of which is rather hard on Francis and Margaret as they become the source of North Oxford gossip. It all becomes rather a mess, but to much change is unthinkable, life has a rhythm in a university city; the students come and go but are essentially always the same, escape may be possible for the Mr Latimer's of the world, but for the rest of them things will carry on much as they always have. I think this may be destined to be my favourite Pym. 

An Academic Question - Barbara Pym

The latest Barbara Pym to be reissued by Virago is a bit of a departure from the Pym I'm used to. It hails from her time in the wilderness when she couldn't get her novels published and whilst the first draft was finished in 1971 'An Academic Question' first appeared  in 1986 (6 years after Pym died), sometime in-between she had rewritten it in an attempt to make it more contemporary 'to swing' even (horrible thought) but the existing version is an amalgamation of the two versions along with notes that Pym's literary executor put together. 

There is a slightly apologetic introduction that explains this isn't Pym's masterpiece, and fair enough it maybe isn't, but it's a lot better than I expected after reading the intro. I except that Pym doesn't write naturally about motherhood or marriage but she does a terrific job of capturing the awkwardness of essentially conservative people trying to be liberal with their manners and morals. 

Told from the viewpoint of Caro Grimstone the graduate wife of rising young academic Alan, all the action takes place against the background of a provincial university. Caro, much to her mother's disappointment didn't manage to make it to Oxford or Cambridge, and didn't manage to marry the Byronic David, now a successful politician. Alan she considers to be somewhat below her daughter. Caro herself has reached something of a dead end. Having married Alan straight out of university she's never had any sort of career, he doesn't want her assistance with his work, and their daughter is looked after by a capable au pair. She has rather a new house, very self consciously modern with furniture that's already looking shabby, they take The Guardian, and Caro even has a gay best friend.

It's a situation that's almost as foul as it sounds, the gloss is off the marriage and life for Caro is rather empty. For something to do she starts to read to the elderly; the old man she reads to was once a missionary and anthropologist, just the field her husband is in. It's an opportunity that he exploits to steal some papers that will give him the chance to make his reputation whilst getting one over on a senior and highly respected colleague.

Caro's life of leisure, complete with good works, is quite Victorian and raises the question of what do you do with your life when you don't have much personal ambition? Having help in the house is clearly a sign of success , as is not having to work - but again what does it leave? Caro's friend Kitty who represents an older generation, and who used to live a life of colonial luxury on a Caribbean island until a minor coup made it all rather uncomfortable, had no such problems. She sees it as woman's role to be decorative, her occupation, which she finds absorbing is to 'preserve' herself and dress, and yet her life is undoubtedly more satisfying than Caro's.

Kitty's sister Dolly also lives in the town running a junk shop and keeping hedgehogs - she doesn't worry about being successful and is also happy, and again it raises questions. It might not be Pym at her best but it's still really good.

Two Hundred (and ten) Virago’s - and counting

It sometimes seems that my mission in life is to accumulate; books of course, but also shells, little pebbles, shoes, postcards, pictures generally, bits of ribbon, odd socks (though I swear they start out as pairs) theatre programmes, stuff for the kitchen – well you get the idea, and all of it collects dust like nobody’s business, but within the general accumulation there are little hoards which are genuine collections and the one dearest to my heart is my collection of Virago books.

I currently have just over two hundred volumes – which is almost double the number I think I had a year ago – the sudden acceleration is due to (mostly) friendly rivalry with the blonde – last time I checked she was about 2 books behind me – but she’s sneaky so I may be behind now... I should admit that I behaved shamefully in the Astley Book Farm a couple of weeks ago over a Nina Bawden – there wasn’t a tussle but only because I moved with uncharacteristic speed and snatched the book moments before she got her outstretched hand on it. In my defence... hmmm can’t think of a defence, but it did turn out to be an ex library copy and the blonde likes her books pristine so we stayed friends this time. The lovely ladies who run Astley have threatened to hold back Virago’s for the purpose of setting up a bidding war between us; they might be on to something.

My love for this publisher stretches back over 18 years which I realise (though not entirely willingly) is half my lifetime. I first discovered those nice green books when I was fresh at university and beginning to realise there must be more to the canon than men and Virginia Woolf. Those were the heady days of discovering Molly Keane, and Rosamond Lehmann, Dodie Smith and E. M. Delafield’s ‘Diary of a Provincial Lady’. After graduating I worked in a bookshop for a while (the Blonde was my boss) and that’s when I started collecting (though I must admit to not really reading many at the time) and then for a while my reading tastes veered off in other directions.

My rediscovery of Virago was a happy moment (Florence King’s ‘Confessions of a Failed Southern Lady’, Mary Renault’s ‘The Friendly Young Lady’s’ Dorothy Baker’s ‘Cassandra at the Wedding’) and the point where I started looking for apples rather than authors on books – a strategy which has lead me to all sorts of happy discoveries – F. M Mayor, Muriel Spark, Barbara Pym, Alice Thomas Ellis, Elizabeth Von Arnim, and Barbara Comyns are all writers I would probably never have read without Virago’s livery to recommend them. I have a list almost as long of writers waiting to be read on my shelves all there for the same reason.

Virago have become more than just a publisher to me, some of the best days I’ve spent over the last couple of years have been with the blonde scouring the countryside for second hand bookshops and those distinctive spines. For someone as unathletic as me hunting down books is as close to sport as it gets. There are rules, sort of, I won’t buy a book I don’t think I’ll read (one of the reason’s I really admire Verity and her Virago Venture) which is why I don’t have a copy of ‘The Well of Loneliness’ (don’t know why, never fancied it). I don’t (generally) buy duplicates of books I already have but then find a Virago edition of (The exception is ‘Mrs Miniver’ but the duplicate copy I now own is going to a new home soon). Amazon purchases are allowed, but we both agree that they just aren’t the same – it’s the thrill of finding a book that makes this such fun for us – finding F. M. Mayor’s ‘The Squire’s Daughter’ or Barbara Comyns ‘Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead’ were almost euphoric moments because I’d wanted both for a while, as was finding Catherine Carswell, and Christina Stead, both new to me, both yet to be read, but both very promising looking.

I’m not fussy about the colour of the cover, although I’m fond of the old green ones; something I like about my collection is the mix of sun bleached old books, pristine bottle green ones, and the whole rainbow of the current covers. The blonde likes her books as immaculate as possible and will buy on that basis; I’m more likely to be attracted by a title (‘Moonraker’!). I’m not entirely sure how many modern classics there are – but I know its well over 600. I hope there are about another 100 or so old and probably out of print again titles waiting for me to find (obviously I really hope it’s far more), and thankfully they keep publishing more so Virago truly should be a publisher for life and not just for Christmas. Meanwhile my little sister is visiting this weekend, and the blonde and I plan to take her out – should we see a bookshop I’m particularly looking for ‘The Thorn Birds’ (don’t judge me) and Ethel M Dell’s ‘The Way of an Eagle’ (really, don’t judge me). Oh and wish me happy hunting!

Less Than Angels – Barbara Pym

I loved this book and thought it would be so easy to write about – which in a way it has been– I’ve written literally thousands of words about it, deleted them, started again and so on. I’m not sure why it is but the best ones always seem to be the hardest to write about. Anyway here goes...

I wonder if in thirty years time I’ll be reading books from the 1990’s with as much enthusiasm as I currently read books written in the 1950’s. I can just about imagine Bridget Jones being reissued by Virago with an introduction explaining how it was a best seller in its day neglected ever since. I have mixed feelings about Ms Jones, and slightly less mixed but not very positive feelings about her imitators, and yet she may just age better than some of her more literary contemporaries, only time will tell and its part of the reason that the process by which a book becomes a ‘classic’ fascinates me.

Barbara Pym is a great example of this, she was popular in her day, and then not, rediscovered, almost forgotten again, and now is having her Virago moment (a well deserved moment I hasten to add). She never deserved to be neglected, but seeing as she was I wondered why now was considered the moment to reassess her. The answer in this case seems to be that the (Virago) stars aligned and we were lucky enough to get Pym back.

She has been described as the Jane Austen of the fifties and I think of all her books I’ve read ‘Less Than Angels’ is the one where that comparison makes most sense to me. It would be ‘Persuasion’ Jane (which is quoted) because Pym’s territory is that of the disappointed woman and she is mistress of it. So far ‘Less Than Angels’ is by far and away my favourite of her books. I had to stop myself from scribbling all over it with biro to mark the bits I particularly liked; I will be reading it again, and again after that I should think – I feel like one reading only scratched the surface of what might be in there.

This is a book of men and women – the women are imperfect but affectionately drawn, the men are imperfect and somewhat less affectionately drawn; they mostly seem to exist to live off of and be cared for by their women folk and none of them come out of it particularly well. I read through with mounting indignation at the way women are viewed and treated – Pym’s anger seemed to burn off the page – but I want to be sure it’s her anger and not mine. I think it’s her anger; the observations seem sharper and the humour drier this time - the introduction suggests that there’s a strongly autobiographical element which makes it interesting.

So many of her female characters seem compliant with their fate, accepting of it and determined to make the best out of not always promising material, ‘Less Than Angels’ is the first hint I’ve had that this might change (in my reading so far; I keep getting dark hints and promises from hardcore Pym fans of shocking things to come). I could easily imagine Catherine (the heroine here) saying enough’s enough. As it is she decides after being let down by one man to pursue another, not in a terribly predatory way, but certainly with quiet determination after deciding she’s not ready to become one of those ‘excellent women’ who turn to good works and the church for their solace. A thoroughly absorbing and rewarding read this one.