The Adventures of Sylvia Scarlett - Compton Mackenzie

Book one: Sylvia and Philip. I'm really not in the mood for long books at the moment and 'The Adventures of Sylvia Scarlett' is quite a long book with quite small print - happily it's broken down into three parts so I thought if I tackled it a book at a time with breaks in-between it would be more manageable. So far the plan is working, I enjoyed the first section and am looking forward to more - maybe in a week or two.

The initial chapters are scene setters - Sylvia comes from a line of women with colourful pasts - something that she's mostly unaware of but will more than live up to. Sylvia's early childhood is a poor but respectable one in provincial France - until her mother dies. Her father is a weak willed gambler with fairly low moral standards - not the ideal make up for a clerk - after 'borrowing' some money he decides it might be better to return to his native England. Sylvia goes with him disguised as a boy. Life in England proves eventful, they flit from place to place leaving a trail of bills and failed scams behind them. By this time they've teamed up with another altogether more plausible con man - one who starts to take quite an interest in Sylvia as she grows up.

It's only a matter of time before Sylvia is orphaned but by the time she is she has realised that men seem to find her attractive enough for her to always have options. What follows are a series of running's away - men might want Sylvia but at 15 she doesn't really want them - and proves to be well able to take care of herself. Eventually she finds an old girlfriend of her fathers who helps her get a job in an exhibition selling Turkish delight (as you do) and it's at this point she meets Philip. Sylvia is taking a walk through a cemetery when she falls into conversation with him and he soon becomes obsessed with her. Eventually he proposes but suggests first that she spend a year at school to learn how to become an English lady - so off to school she goes. 

Sylvia is an engaging creation - a lot of this first part of the book ought to be slightly tedious but it's not. Mackenzie is smart to make her uninterested in the men who pursue her - she effectively deals with a would be rapist by biting a hole in his lip, and Philip's attraction for her is based around his education and conversation. She understands that he wants more than conversation but again it's with a certain lack of enthusiasm. At school she becomes her age - 16 - and embraces life as a schoolgirl along with the female friends she makes there. Philip who's posing as her guardian becomes a somewhat more sinister figure as Sylvia turns back into a child but despite misgivings she goes ahead with the marriage which is predictably disastrous until she runs away again - this time into prostitution.

It's not as salacious as it sounds (and the gist of this is on the back blurb too if you think I'm being spoiler heavy) the last page has a killer close and it's going to be fascinating to see what Mackenzie does with Sylvia next...

Whisky Galore – Compton Mackenzie

Starting off with some of my holiday reading and the intention of writing a list of things I want to commit to blog before I forget (or give in under the pressure of getting pictures from camera to blogger – why does this turn into such a struggle on such a regular basis?) I think I did pretty well reading wise whilst away – I worked my way through 3 and a ½ books which given all the other things we were doing – and serious attention given to whisky drinking is included in those activities, is a respectable number.

Since reading ‘The Monarch of the Glen’ ‘Whisky Galore’ jumped up to the top of the pile. It’s been one of my favourite films for a long time which was the reason that a previous attempt to read it got nowhere. Book and film have relatively little in common; the film (for those who have seen it and know what I’m talking about) takes one element of the story, condenses it and adds considerably more drama. It’s a great film. The book takes the scenic route starting with a love story and a recalcitrant father and of course a desperate shortage of whisky. The islands are dry and the islanders don’t like it. In the fullness of time the SS Cabinet Minister comes aground with a payload of whisky bound for America. The islanders spring into action to liberate the water of life, which once in their possession starts to solve all their problems. It’s a great book.

Mackenzie writes with knowledge and affection (just in case anyone doesn’t know the story the SS Politician went down off Eriskay in 1941 carrying amongst other things 28000 cases of whisky much of which was looted, this isn’t so much a fictionalised account of what happened as delight in a good story.) It made perfect reading for a rainy Sunday on an island, and is a book destined to be re read when I’m feeling nostalgic, homesick, or in need of something gently amusing generally. I loved the reminders of a gentler, slower pace of life, one which admits the possibilities of poetry and fairies (poetic Gaelic ones) and deep inbred cunning.

I think Mackenzie wanted these reminders too; I don’t doubt that he’s writing with an eye to change, by 1947 when ‘Whisky Galore’ was published it must have been clear even in the outlying Hebrides that elements of the culture and community would disintegrate under the pressure of modern life, but I don’t want to get carried away with the idea that this is all the book is about. To my mind it’s mostly a cracking good story which will tell you a lot about Island psychology and why some people thrive and others fail in this environment. I would love to quote at this point, but when I look through the pages for something suitable I find myself reading long past the point where quotation is reasonable so will just say again – it’s a terrific read.

I should also say that the edition pictured is the current Vintage one, the edition I read is a particularly ugly penguin (a cover which won’t be making its way into any postcard collections, and which I know that penguin have since improved on). It might not be a looker but my copy does have a handy Gaelic glossary and phonetics guide at the back, I’m assuming this is standard, but just in case it isn’t and just in case you feel you might want to read it having the glossary was a definite bonus – it’s given me this for example ‘A bhòbh bhòbh’ (a vov vov) – exclamation of despair, which I find myself using from time to time now I’m back at work (only in my head so far) somehow it perfectly sums up that post holiday feeling.

The Monarch of The Glen – Compton Mackenzie

‘The Monarch of the Glen’ and Compton Mackenzie have both hovered on the edge of my reading conscious for a very long time now. ‘Whisky Galore’ is one of my favourite films but although I’ve had the book well over a decade I’ve only made one half hearted attempt to open it (about to change). ‘The Monarch of the Glen’ came to my attention through the TV series, and was rejected for the same reason, but over the last six months I kept picking it up and finally gave in to temptation on a stealthy amazon visit. All credit to Vintage – I love their current cover designs and after such success with John Cheever and John O’Hara I feel very inclined to give anything on their classics list a go, that and I’m genetically inclined to have a soft spot for eccentric Lairds.

There’s a moment that comes in a book where I know I’m going to love it, treasure it, and hopefully persuade someone else to read it (doesn’t always happen). In Monarch that moment came respectably early on with this line:

“Kilwhillie’s faded eyes were lighted up with that strange light which was never on sea or land, but is only to be seen in the eyes of a landed proprietor in the Highlands who hopes he has found a buyer for an overtaxed forest...and a shooting-lodge that looks like a bunch of tarnished pepper-pots.”

I have seen that light or at least something very close to it and clearly so had Mackenzie. It’s the combination of generally affectionate humour and sharp observation that made this such a beguiling read for me.

I couldn’t help but be reminded of Nancy Mitford’s ‘Wigs on the Green’ (I’m assuming Mackenzie would have known it) and although Monarch is by far the better book I did wonder if there was a nod in the direction of Mitford and her type of fiction. For those who know the TV version – forget it and approach the book with fresh eyes. This is the story of Donald MacDonald, Laird of Glenbogle (also known as Ben Nevis) and his attempts to snag a rich wife for one of his sons. A distant Macdonald connection from Canada (Carrie) has had the good sense to marry a fortune and as Mrs Chester Royde she, her husband, and most importantly her unmarried sister in law are invited to enjoy some Scottish hospitality. The Laird’s hopes for a happy outcome are high, the sun is most unaccountably shining and it’s the glorious 12th – the scene is set for a grouse massacre of legendry proportion when disaster in the form of hikers strikes. The MacDonald wrath knows no bounds and before long all out war is declared between castle and the national union of hikers. Meanwhile Carrie has fallen in with some Scottish Nationalists (almost worse than hikers) including a distractingly handsome poet.

The hikers lead by the fanatical Percy Buckham, with their passionate devotion to their corduroy shorts and healthy outdoor life call to mind both Mosley’s blackshirts and the Hitler youth movement. It’s not an allusion that’s hammered home to hard – Percy Buckham of Primrose Hill is not an evil or even particularly sinister figure, but he’s an excellent example of how far a charismatic character filled with self belief and a desire for direct action can carry a crowd. It’s just this comparative lightness of touch which makes this book seem so fresh despite being almost seventy years old. Issues over Scottish Nationalism, what heritage is, who owns it, and who owns the land around us have never really gone away. Rambling is still a topic (in rural areas anyway – I’ve yet to talk to a farmer who’s keen on the breed) and people still travel from across the globe to find their roots in the old country.

Which brings me back to Chester Royde, who is by far and away my favourite character; his assessment of stag stalking is a joy, as are his clothes. They start off as simply colourful and then progress far beyond (I thought) cliché and into something for more sublime and wonderful. In short I cannot help but love a book where everyone is laughed at but which contains no discernable malice; is the perfect comfort read and has a bit of substance to it as well!