Review: The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street, by Helene Hanff

Pages: 137
Original date of publication: 1973
My edition: 1976
Why I decided to read: it seemed like the perfect thing to bring on the plane when I went on vacation to England
How I acquired my copy: Amazon UK, January 2010

You decide to stop using the word “anachronism” when a seventeenth-century carriage drives through the gates of Buckingham Palace carrying twentieth-century Russian or African diplomats to be welcomed by a queen. “Anachronism” implies something long dead, and nothing is dead here. History, as they say, is alive and well and living in London (p. 82)

In 84, Charing Cross Road, Helene Hanff collected the letters she and Frank Doel, a bookseller in London’s famous Charing Cross Road, exchanged for twenty years, from just after WWII up until his death. Helene Hanff had always wanted to travel to England, but until the summer of June 1971, after 84 Charing Cross Road had been published and she went on tour to publicize the book, she had never had the opportunity to do so. This short book is a diary that Helene kept for the three weeks that she was in London and environs, meeting Frank Doel’s family and some of the many people who enjoyed 84, Charing Cross Road.

I went on vacation to London (and York) for a week at the beginning of the month, so I thought this would be the perfect book to get me in the mood for the trip. It’s a short book; I finished it in a couple of hours on the plane ride. Helene Hanff went everywhere and did everything, it seems: Bloomsbury (personally, my favorite part of London), the site of Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre (which hadn’t yet been reconstructed by Sam Wannamaker), Buckingham Palace, the Tower of London. Some of those were places I went, too, so it was fun for me to read about what she saw and did. Helene even got so see some of the sights outside London: Eton and Oxford (only Helene could have a hissy fit in the middle of Wadham Yard!).

The same funny, witty tone of voice she used in 84, Charing Cross Road comes right across in this novel, and I enjoyed reading some of her insights into England and the English (some of them ironic, as in):

I find the treatment of royalty distinctly peculiar. The royal family lives in palaces heavily screened from prying eyes by fences, grounds, gates, guards, all designed to ensure the family absolute privacy. And every newspaper in London carried headlines announcing PRINCESS ANNE HAS OVARIAN CYST REMOVED. I mean you’re a young girl reared in heavily guarded seclusion and every beer drinker in every pub knows the pricese state of your ovaries (p. 77-78).

I must admit that I have a soft spot for Helene Hanff; we both have a Philadelphia connection, plus we are/were massive Anglophiles (and she incidentally has the same birthday as my sister). I love the blunt, direct way that she addresses her readers, almost as if she’s telling her story to you in person. She also has some great insights into London: how you can tell a city’s character based on its parks:

All the parks here are every serene, very gentle… lying in peaceful St. James’s, I realize how much a city’s parks reflect the character of its people. The parks here are tranquil, quiet, a bit reserved, and I love them. But on a long-term basis I would sorely miss the noisy exuberance of Central Park (pp54-56).

The Sunday Salon

It’s been a busy week and weekend. I spent a good deal of my free time working on this ten-page paper I had due on Friday. The course I’m taking is an online course that has three webinars over the course of the semester. Yesterday was the second webinar, but since the professor had trouble logging on, we (the students) hung around for about an hour waiting for her. Frustrating considering that this was the webinar where she was going to explain our long final paper to us! Hopefully, though, we’ll make it up somehow.

I spent a good deal of time this week organizing—mostly organizing the documents on my computer and flash drive so that I can find them more easily. For example, I now have a folder for my book-related documents, one for the class I’m taking, and one for things like resumes and cover letters. What I haven’t been good at is writing reviews, so I’m going to try to get to those at some point this week.

So I’m trying to cut back on sugar. Anyone who knows me know I LOVE sweet stuff, but my consumption of sugar contributes to this very small health issue I’m having. Cutting back hasn’t been easy; I still find myself putting sugar in my coffee, or helping myself to chocolate. It’s tough. How do you give up an addiction like that?

Coming up this week: my birthday tomorrow (I’m planning on going out to dinner with my parents), and then more work stuff the rest of the week. I’m currently nearly at the halfway point of Testament of Youth (see photo from my previous Sunday Salon post), which is probably one of my favorite reads so far this year. The way that Vera Brittain wrote about WWI and her reaction to it is just incredible.

How have you all been? Reading anything good?

Review: Cindie, by Jean Devanny

Pages: 332
Original date of publication: 1949
My edition: 1986 (Virago Modern Classics)
Why I decided to read: I read it for All Virago/All August
How I acquired my copy: found it in a secondhand bookshop near work

Cindie tells the story of a young woman who goes to Queensland, Australia, to work for Randolph Biddow, who owns a sugar plantation, his wife, Blanche, and their two young children. Cindie thrives in her new environment, and she rises to become manager on the estate. Sharply in contrast to her is Blanche, who complains ceaselessly about her new life and feels bitter and jealous towards her former maid.

It’s a beautiful story, made even more vivid by the lush way in which Jean Devanny describes North Queensland and the people who inhabit it. She highlights beautifully the differences between whites, Aborigines, and Kanakas, set against a real historical event: the creation of the Commonwealth Bill in the 1890s, under which Australia’s Constitution was made legal by Queen Victoria. There’s a distinct difference between the whites and the natives, and it’s interesting to see how such a major turning point in Australia’s history influenced them. I loved Jean Devanny’s description of the place in which the novel is set; I do love it when a place becomes a character on its own.

But the star of the show is, of course, Cindie, who proves herself to be a likeable character, despite the fact that she can seem distant sometimes. She’s hard-working and industrious, and doesn’t take the way she’s treated by Blanche lying down. She’s not afraid to say what’s on her mind; nor is she afraid to assert her independence by not marrying. In direct contrast to Cindie, of course, is her employer Blanche, who dislikes Cindie once she begins to take on more responsibility around the plantation. She’s suspicious and distrustful of how much trust Randolph places in Cindie, but sometimes I think Blanche goes overboard in her behavior. Despite my problems with Blanche’s character, I really enjoyed this novel.

The Sunday Salon

Happy Sunday! So much has gone on around here in the past few weeks that I don’t even know where to start! Last Sunday my sister and I came back from a 10-days vacation to London and York where we saw positively everything! We got there on Friday the 2nd, late at night, and on Saturday, we went to the British Museum, which has to be my favorite London museum. They’ve got an exhibition on right now on medieval relics and reliquaries that had me drooling—reliquaries and manuscripts and other devotional objects, one of which was the MS of Matthew Paris’s Chronica Majora! Stunning. Then we went to the Persephone shop, where I picked up a copy of Reuben Sachs. In the afternoon we went to Regent Street and Piccadilly. Went to the enormous Waterstone's there, where I went to the fiction section while my sister went to look at the art books. She came back 15 minutes later to find me with an enormous stack of books in hand! They just don't make books in the US like they do in the UK.

On Sunday the 4th we went to the Victoria and Albert Museum, and Harrod’s, and then some shopping in the Kings Road. I picked up a beautiful, albeit expensive, jacquard skirt at Jigsaw, which is now one of my favorite clothing stores!

On Monday my sister and I took the train to York, where we did York Minster in the afternoon and explored some of the shops in Stonegate.

On Tuesday we went to several of the many museums in York, including the York Art Gallery (very random collection, but interesting), the Yorkshire Museum and Museum Gardens, and then we had tea at Betty’s, which does in fact make you feel as though you’re sitting in a fishbowl! But the tea and fruit scones were delicious. Walked on the old Roman walls, and then back up through Micklegate back into the center of town.

On Wednesday we went to Jorvik Viking Center… then we climed to the top of Clifford’s Tower and went to the York Castle Museum, which was also a bit random in its collection but fun, and then Fairfax House, which is an 18th century house which had a display on on post-Revolutionary fashion. Did some more shopping. York is a neat little tow, and I think we could have done it in just two days instead of the three we gave it.

On Thursday my sister and I took to the train back down to London, where we split up for a while—she did a ton of walking while I went to the Persephone shop for the teatime book group discussion of Reuben Sachs. It’s a group that meets once a month to discuss the books in number order, and they all kind of knew each other. So I was a little bit startled when Nicola asked me to cut the cake! But the discussion was fun and interesting, and I definitely think I’d go again if I ever had the chance. I also got a great deal of book shopping in: I found a lode of VMCs in a secondhand shop called Skoob Books, not too far from the Persephone shop.

On Friday we did a ton of walking: we went to Buckingham Palace (where THE famous wedding dress is on display until the beginning of next month); then we walked down past Westminster, over Westminster Bridge, and along the South Bank, where of course I had to stop at the South Bank Book Market. We stopped for lunch, and then on to the new Globe Theatre to see Much Ado About Nothing, which was FABULOUS. Then we walked back across to St. Paul’s and took the tube to the National Gallery, where we saw an exhibition on medieval altarpieces, had dinner in the café in the crypt at St. Martin’s in the Fields, and went to the National portrait Gallery. Whew!

On Saturday we went to Portobello Road, which was A LOT crowded than I thought it would be; I mean, by the time we left at 11, people were STREAMING in! I’m glad we got there early. Large crowds send my sensory integration issues into overdrive, so it was a bit stressful. In the afternoon we did some more shopping, including another trip back to Piccadilly, where I went to Hatchard’s—quite possibly one of my favorite London bookshops, I can never leave there emptyhanded!

And then we left on Sunday… sadly… but it was a fantastic trip! I went a little bit overboard on the book shopping; grand total was 34 books! Pictures TK…

This week I was thrown back in at work, and I’ve also been catching up on schoolwork, so I’ve been quite busy. This weekend I’m still unpacking, logging my books, and uploading pictures from the trip—my sister has already posted hers on Facebook, so here’s one of me at the South Bank Book Market on Friday. FYI, I had no idea I'm such a hunchback! I also did laundry, worked out, and wrote six pages of a ten-page paper I have to write for school—so weird that I’m technically back in school again, even though the class is online!

How have you all been?

Review: Mad Puppetstown, by Molly Keane

Pages: 304
Original date of publication: 1931
My edition: 1990 (Virago)
Why I decided to read: Read it for All Virago/All August
How I acquired my copy: Ebay, Augst 2010

Mad Puppetstown contains all the hallmarks of a Molly Keane novel; a large, rambling estate in Ireland; a slightly dysfunctional family; and, of course, house-parties in which hunting is featured. Easter, Evelyn (male, so I’m assuming it’s pronounced like Evelyn Waugh), and Basil are cousins who grow up together at Puppetstown. The novel opens in 1908 and takes the cousins through the Great War and, more importantly, the Easter Rising, during which the cousins must flee to England. They harbor hopes, however, that they will return to Puppetstown and restore it to its former glory.

The novel starts off slowly, idyllically; this is the point in the novel at which the reader is supposed to feel the magic of Puppetstown and why the cousins are so attached to it. After all, it’s where Easter, Evelyn and Basil grew up, if only for a short time. In this way, the estate itself becomes a character in the book. Molly Keane does this often in her books, and she does it very well; inanimate objects and houses take on lives of their own.

Molly Keane is also skilled at character development. The novel opens in 1908 or thereabouts, when the cousins are young children; it closes about ten years later, when the cousins have entered into society. Easter is the focal point of the group, and Keane captures her growth through adolescence marvelously—right down to her frustrated unrequited love for her cousin. It’s very poignant and true-to-life; what young girl hasn’t experienced something like that? There are a couple of overly-described hunting scenes that kind of lost me for a while, but all in all, this is another really strong novel from a favorite author.

Review: Myself When Young, by Daphne Du Maurier

Pages: 176
Original date of publication: 1973
My edition: Virago (2004)
Why I decided to read: I’m a huge fan of anything by Daphne Du Maurier
How I acquired my copy: Awesomebooks website, February 2011

I feel as though I can never go wrong with Daphne Du Maurier’s books. Fiction, nonfiction, I haven’t run into a bad one yet. Myself When Young is a memoir based on the diaries that Du Maurier kept from 1920-1932, or from ages 13 to 25, when her first novel The Loving Spirit, was published. It’s a short book, but covers a lot of ground, from her early years living in the shadow of her father Gerald Du Maurier, her schooling in Paris, and her early years as a writer.

One of the things I enjoyed most about this book was how Daphne talked about the inspiration for some of her writing—specifically Rebecca, The Loving Spirit, and some of her earliest short stories. I also liked seeing how certain places (Menabily especially, which was in the inspiration for Manderley in Rebecca and became the setting of The King’s General) helped inspire and inform Daphne’s novels. I also enjoyed seeing how her family’s history played a role in some of her books. I also didn’t know how much of a role Peter Pan played in Daphne’s earlier years; I knew about her relationship with the Llewellyn-Davies boys, but I didn’t know how pervasive the book was as Daphne grew up.

This book was written in the seventies, when Daphne was in her sixties, so there’s a very nostalgic quality to this memoir. All authors write about what they know, and Daphne was no exception. But she wrote about what she knew very well, even eloquently. There are some beautiful passages in this book about growing up. Daphne draws heavily from her diaries, sometimes even quoting from them. But through those diary excerpts, you can see the germination of a truly great writer.

Review: Mary Oliver, by May Sinclair

Pages: 380
Original date of publications: 1919
My edition: 1980 (Dial)
Why I decided to read: read it for All Virago/All August
How I acquired my copy: the Philadelphia Book Trader, February 2011

Man, how I wanted to like this book! The only other May Sinclair novel I’ve read is The Three Sisters, which I loved, so I expected to love this book just as much. I found Mary Olivier to be a tough slog, the kind of book where I was putting it down to read something else.

Mary Olivier is the youngest child and only girl in a large Victorian family. She grows up in the shadow of her brothers, father, and overbearing mother. The story follows Mary’s point of view from early childhood in the 1860s up through middle age in the first decade of the twentieth century. The story is told from the sensibility of the child, but the author’s handling of this style of writing is clunky. A skilled author can tell a story from the point of view of a child and tell us exactly what happened, even though the child might not understand it. The way that May Sinclair wrote this story, she left the reader in the dark in many places.

The story improves a little bit when Mary reaches adolescence, but not by much. Mary is a dreamy, romantic teenager and has a fondness for poetry. She seems to drift through the rest of her life, allowing things to happen to her rather than take charge of her own life. She also allows her mother to bully her, and she never stand up for herself. This was what made Mary so unappealing as a character, and why I had difficulty continuing with the novel past page 200. It’s a bleak novel, and it has some very profound things to say about a woman’s plight in 19th century England, but May Sinclair didn’t handle the writing of the story well.

Review: Lady of the English, by Elizabeth Chadwick

Pages: 511
Original date of publication: 2011
My edition: 2011 (Sourcebooks)
Why I decided to read: I’m a huge Elizabeth Chadwick fan
How I acquired my copy: review copy from publisher, June 2011

Lady of the English tells the story of Empress Matilda, daughter of Henry I. Although Henry made his barons promise to uphold Matilda’s claim to the English throne, his barons aren’t ready for a female ruler. The novel follows Matilda’s struggle to uphold her claim, pitting her against her father’s cousin, Stephen. The story is told alternately between Matilda’s point of view and that of her stepmother, Adeliza, from 1125 to 1149.

With the civil war between Matilda and Stephen, I always got the impression that Stephen was the kind of guy you’d invite over for dinner, and Matilda was more ice queen. It’s true that Matilda has been portrayed in historical chronicles as somewhat of a virago, so I was interested to see how Elizabeth Chadwick would vindicate her. I liked how she handled her character; Matilda is headstrong and doesn’t suffer fools gladly, although she was unable to take advice from those around her. In her author’s note at the end of the book, Chadwick poses an interesting theory that Matilda suffered from strong pre-menstrual tension, which might have accounted for some of her shark behavior. Matilda never became a crowned queen herself, but she was the mother of a future King, Henry II, who appears as a young boy in this novel.

On the other hand, there is Adeliza, the widow of Henry I and Matilda’s stepmother. When Henry dies, Adeliza retires to a nunnery; but she quickly forms an attachment to Willaim d’Albini, a character who’s a William-Mash type. Adeliza, however, is a weaker character than Matilda is, and I was less interested in her story. But I love how Elizabeth Chadwick manages to interweave historical details into her fiction. I always know I’m going to get a well-researched, entertaining story, as I did with this novel.