Recent reading
Mar. 30th, 2021 05:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
regshoeIt's being a bit of a week at work. The weather is really nice today—we're having a March mini-heatwave, and I've been sitting outside watching frogs and butterflies and some blue tits building a nest—but I'm tired, so I've been reading some short books...
Miss Pym Disposes by Josephine Tey (1946). This book is about Miss Pym, a retired teacher who's unexpectedly become a celebrity after writing a popular book on psychology, visiting a women's Physical Training College (a post-school institution whose curriculum covers medicine, physiology and what would now be called sports science as well as sports and dance—not a type I've ever come across in real life, but apparently Tey attended one!) shortly before the students' final exams. After she's persuaded gradually to stay longer than she was intending, Miss Pym's visit becomes far more eventful than she expected it to be... I only vaguely recognised the name Josephine Tey, and had had this one recommended to me in the context of girls' school stories rather than murder mysteries, so I was caught slightly off guard by the turn the plot ends up taking, but once I'd got used to the idea I enjoyed it very much. I did think some of the relationships might have been more convincing if we'd had longer to get to know the characters, but the setting and drama were still exciting, and the 'psychological' angle was interesting, with issues of what we'd now think of as student mental health being touched on in contemporary terms. The book has a very nice last-page twist, a pointed commentary on something of a mystery genre cliche. And between Miss Pym's memories of her schooldays with the headmistress Henrietta (she, the little fourth-form rabbit, had admired the sixth-form Henrietta extravagantly) and the friendship between Pamela 'Beau' Nash and Mary Innes ('But normal, no. That David and Jonathan relationship.'), the relationships were pretty interesting. (I want lots of dark messed-up Innes/Nash femslash now...)
A Month in the Country by J. L. Carr (1980). Set in the North Riding of Yorkshire in 1920, where a local rich eccentric's will has provided for the employment of two veterans of the First World War in uncovering a medieval wall painting in the village church and searching for an ancestor's grave outside it. The book follows Tom Birkin, the one uncovering the wall painting, as he gradually settles into the village, acclimatising to the rural landscape, making friends with a local chapel-going family and falling rather unfortunately in love with the vicar's wife. There's also Birkin's quietly understanding friendship with Moon, the churchyard archaeologist, who has a past of his own. Altogether it's an odd book. It subverts the simple story of healing that it looks like at first, without undermining it entirely or being particularly cynical. It's short, but very dense in meaning; Carr has a talent for making little details carry a lot of weight, and for always picking just the right details in the right way. Then it has some very interesting things to say about time and memory—the present day of the story is twisted up with the medieval past of the wall-painting and the grave, with the characters' memories of the war and with the unspecified future from which Birkin narrates. And there are the details of Birkin's craft and profession, the process of uncovering the wall painting, and his sense of connection with the unknown medieval who painted it in the first place. I really enjoyed the book, and will probably keep thinking about it for a while. (There's also a film adaptation, which looks good—I may try and find it too).
Living Alone by Stella Benson (1919). I don't know how to summarise this one! It's set in London during the First World War, it's about magic and it's very strange. The plot, insofar as it has one, is about an ordinary young woman named Sarah Brown who meets a witch, and the various magical characters and places she goes to as a result. The magical worldbuilding is odd and very vivid—it has a kind of Lolly Willowes-ish way of introducing outlandish things casually and matter-of-factly, and blends the magic with the mundane especially memorably, both generally in the London setting and particularly as it relates to the war. (Honestly, much of the general impression I got from it was one of 'it's 1918 and I've gone slightly mad', but not necessarily in a bad way). There are some disconcerting plot twists and bits of imagery, and some pointed social satire on charitable committees, which was fun.
Miss Pym Disposes by Josephine Tey (1946). This book is about Miss Pym, a retired teacher who's unexpectedly become a celebrity after writing a popular book on psychology, visiting a women's Physical Training College (a post-school institution whose curriculum covers medicine, physiology and what would now be called sports science as well as sports and dance—not a type I've ever come across in real life, but apparently Tey attended one!) shortly before the students' final exams. After she's persuaded gradually to stay longer than she was intending, Miss Pym's visit becomes far more eventful than she expected it to be... I only vaguely recognised the name Josephine Tey, and had had this one recommended to me in the context of girls' school stories rather than murder mysteries, so I was caught slightly off guard by the turn the plot ends up taking, but once I'd got used to the idea I enjoyed it very much. I did think some of the relationships might have been more convincing if we'd had longer to get to know the characters, but the setting and drama were still exciting, and the 'psychological' angle was interesting, with issues of what we'd now think of as student mental health being touched on in contemporary terms. The book has a very nice last-page twist, a pointed commentary on something of a mystery genre cliche. And between Miss Pym's memories of her schooldays with the headmistress Henrietta (she, the little fourth-form rabbit, had admired the sixth-form Henrietta extravagantly) and the friendship between Pamela 'Beau' Nash and Mary Innes ('But normal, no. That David and Jonathan relationship.'), the relationships were pretty interesting. (I want lots of dark messed-up Innes/Nash femslash now...)
A Month in the Country by J. L. Carr (1980). Set in the North Riding of Yorkshire in 1920, where a local rich eccentric's will has provided for the employment of two veterans of the First World War in uncovering a medieval wall painting in the village church and searching for an ancestor's grave outside it. The book follows Tom Birkin, the one uncovering the wall painting, as he gradually settles into the village, acclimatising to the rural landscape, making friends with a local chapel-going family and falling rather unfortunately in love with the vicar's wife. There's also Birkin's quietly understanding friendship with Moon, the churchyard archaeologist, who has a past of his own. Altogether it's an odd book. It subverts the simple story of healing that it looks like at first, without undermining it entirely or being particularly cynical. It's short, but very dense in meaning; Carr has a talent for making little details carry a lot of weight, and for always picking just the right details in the right way. Then it has some very interesting things to say about time and memory—the present day of the story is twisted up with the medieval past of the wall-painting and the grave, with the characters' memories of the war and with the unspecified future from which Birkin narrates. And there are the details of Birkin's craft and profession, the process of uncovering the wall painting, and his sense of connection with the unknown medieval who painted it in the first place. I really enjoyed the book, and will probably keep thinking about it for a while. (There's also a film adaptation, which looks good—I may try and find it too).
Living Alone by Stella Benson (1919). I don't know how to summarise this one! It's set in London during the First World War, it's about magic and it's very strange. The plot, insofar as it has one, is about an ordinary young woman named Sarah Brown who meets a witch, and the various magical characters and places she goes to as a result. The magical worldbuilding is odd and very vivid—it has a kind of Lolly Willowes-ish way of introducing outlandish things casually and matter-of-factly, and blends the magic with the mundane especially memorably, both generally in the London setting and particularly as it relates to the war. (Honestly, much of the general impression I got from it was one of 'it's 1918 and I've gone slightly mad', but not necessarily in a bad way). There are some disconcerting plot twists and bits of imagery, and some pointed social satire on charitable committees, which was fun.
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Date: Mar. 30th, 2021 06:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Mar. 30th, 2021 06:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Mar. 30th, 2021 07:02 pm (UTC)I attended an all women's college in the States for my undergraduate studies so that part doesn't interest me. The experience, for me, at least, was not as enlightening, psychotic (or pornographic! heh, heh) as literature and the media portray. And we never had a murder, dammit!
I like Tey. Not as much as Christie and Ngaio Marsh but she's a solid mystery writer and there's a modern writer Nicola Upson who actually has a mystery series where Tey herself is the heroine & detective. In my opinion, the latter are kind of awful but, you know, your mileage may vary.
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Date: Mar. 31st, 2021 04:12 pm (UTC)As it happens I also went to a women's college, and I'm fond of similar settings in fiction (I just hadn't encountered physical training colleges in particular before)—but yes, heh, the murders are perhaps not the most realistic.
Hmm, modern fiction starring a real mystery writer as a detective sounds an... interesting idea. o_O
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Date: Mar. 31st, 2021 07:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: Mar. 31st, 2021 04:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Apr. 1st, 2021 08:57 pm (UTC)As for A Month in the Country, that's a lovely book. I can recommend the film too - featuring young Colin Firth, Kenneth Branagh and Natasha Richardson. It's beautifully shot in a wonderful golden light.
And I have now ordered Living Alone! Thank-you for the rec.
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Date: Apr. 2nd, 2021 04:35 pm (UTC)It's beautifully shot in a wonderful golden light.
That sounds lovely, and just right for the book—I think I shall do some film-watching over the Easter break :)
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Date: Apr. 2nd, 2021 05:08 pm (UTC)I think it's so interesting (but not necessarily surprising) that many books with m/m and f/f undertones mention "that David and Jonathan relationship"! I can actually think of one example when knowing the whole story (thanks to my Catholic upbringing) spoiled a book ending for me...
What I liked best about "Living Alone" was that it involved mostly unremarkable people (well, except for the witch, haha!) Like "Lolly Willowes", it embraces the odd and the unexpected, while staying in an everyday/mundane setting, and the open ending is so hopeful and so full of post-canon possibilities! Also, the broomstick is the best, and Sarah and the witch are totally girlfriends! <3
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Date: Apr. 2nd, 2021 06:42 pm (UTC)I was slightly surprised at David and Jonathan being the go-to comparison for a relationship between two women (not Ruth and Naomi, if you want a Scriptural reference? But perhaps, considering later events, that was too nice a dynamic)—but it is certainly one that comes up a lot in that context in general.
Yes, I did enjoy Living Alone's contrasts between the mundane and the magical/odd/unexpected. And Harold the broomstick is great! It hadn't occurred to me to ship Sarah and the witch, but when you put it that way I can see it. :)