I have read through all the available new editions of Ms Thirkell's works; as e-books on Kindle. I saved this one for the holidays. And I was not too disappointed. There seems to be a dividing line in Thirkell fandom between those who like Tony Morland and those who shudder at his name. I usually come down on the side of those who enjoy him, although it is refreshing whenever Dr Ford makes an appearance as he makes no qualms about his feelings and what he expects of the lad; also George Knox can also give as good as he gets: "I can do the talking. I have a kind of gift for talking.’ [said Tony] ‘To tell me that fact,’ said George Knox, ‘is a work of supererogation, my boy." (p. 7)
Other "stories" are of less interest – to me. Christmas at Mulberry Lodge tells how two children celebrated Christmas in London in the Victorian era. This provides a good description of how the wealthy lived and some of their curious customs. Published in 1940 when nostalgia was probably gold; mentioning the war with not a word.
The Private View is a story of art dealers and dealings in London, mostly memorable for the racist slurs: ‘He’s back from Buenos Aires with a very repulsive Dago in tow.’ ‘Dago?’ said Sir Dighton, staring coldly at his grandson. ‘Yes, sir. One of those monkey-faced Wops they keep out there...
"...the Dago, a charming Argentine of simian appearance called García...", (p. 85)
Shakespeare Did Not Dine Out is a review of the feasts portrayed in the bard's plays. Ms Thirkell provides good evidence that Mr Shakespeare did not understand the duties of a host, at least. This combines some research with considerable humour.
Laura Morland, the novelist, and her incorrigible son appear in four of the stories in this book. In Pantomime they are whisked off to London to the theatre as guests of George Knox, together with Dora from the vicarage – Rose being over-excited and ill – and poor Adrian Coates, who is "sacrificed" to fill the car.
I suspect there are those who do not suffer Mr Knox gladly, either, although he is no fool. Garrulous, prone to wander way off subject in his conversation – which often turns into monologues – self-centred but erudite. "George Knox, the celebrated biographer, who was incapable of doing things by halves, and indeed capable only of overdoing them..." (p. 3)
"George Knox dressed himself in a large hat and muffler as Famous Author Takes Country Walk..." (p. 4)
"‘Of course,’ said one of the unseen powers in a voice remarkably like Tony’s, ‘if we can’t have the hat it’s all absolutely no good. People don’t seem to understand that one must have proper hats to do acting properly.’ ‘But, my dear Laura,’ said George Knox, ‘why this curmudgeonly attitude towards property which, after all, is not yours and for which, therefore, you need feel no responsibility? If at this festive season a hat more or less, be it mine, be it whose you will – or would it perhaps be more correct, if less euphonious, to say whose you will’s, but a truce to these idle questions – if, I say, a hat can give pleasure to man, bird, or beast, why should this pleasure be denied?" (p. 5)
Why indeed?
Mr Knox vanishes from the pages of later works in the Barchester series. I suspect this is not only due to the fact that he is, after all, pretty one-dimensional, but also to the effort of producing this kind of speech, even for an author as well-read and in such command of the language as Ms Thirkell.
The story St Valentine's Holiday begins by avowing the curious English overclass aversion to its children: "Tony Morland’s school had an arrangement, agreeable to masters and boys, devastating to parents, by which the boarders could go home for the weekend three times in the term..." (p. 43)
Tony shows his lack of skating prowess and falls in love... well, possibly not.
"'You ought to keep your muscles well exercised, sir. If you did muscle exercises —’ ‘Shut up,’ said Dr Ford..." (p. 53)
In High Voltage at Low Rising George Knox, is giving a talk on Milton for the BBC. At the same time Tony is interesting himself in electricity and radio, blackouts ensue.
"...my pipe, with that devilish liveliness peculiar to inanimate and senseless objects, chose to leap from me and caused me to grovel in a way unbecoming to my age, besides making all the blood fly to my head..." (p. 63)
"‘But sir,’ said Tony reproachfully, ‘I was just telling Mr Knox —’ ‘Shut up,’ said Dr Ford." (p. 68).
"I'm awfully sorry, sir,' said Tony, 'but I was only explaining the electricity to Mr Knox and somehow the plugs got in the wrong holes. I can easily put a fuse in if you tell me where the main-' ‘Sit still and shut up,’ said Dr Ford, while Laura confounded herself in excuses for her son... (p. 68)
‘Dear Laura,’ said George Knox, ‘you will forgive a worn-out and ageing man if he does not rise. That I see you again is indeed ichor, elixir, but take the will for the deed when I tell you that I am almost under orders not to exert myself, am I not, Ford?’ ‘Not in the least,’ said Dr Ford. ‘Well, be that as it may,’ said George Knox with some annoyance, ‘I am glad to see you, Laura, yes, faith, heartily glad. Why should I talk like that?’ he added, glaring suspiciously round. ‘You can’t help it, George,’ said Laura, (p. 69)
"...my dear wife had so exquisitely, so skilfully, typed it for me with this hand, which I humbly salute,’ said George Knox, kissing his wife’s hand, ‘why it should harrow up my soul and freeze my middle-aged blood, is beyond my power to tell.’ ‘Tony,’ said Dr Ford, seeing that his young friend was preparing to correct this quotation, ‘just go and see if my lights are on.’ (p.70)
George on the tribulations of speaking on the B.B.C.: Hamlet Act 1, v. Ghost: "I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood..."
The Great Art of Riding
Tony has built a toy battleship: "'I’ve got some black enamel paint. Or should I get some grey and paint her grey? She would look splendid in grey and —’ ‘Shut up,’ said Dr Ford. ‘I want to talk to your mother.’..." (p. 115)
The gentry are charitable – to a degree: "'There’s a very decent little chap I know, used to be a groom at Rising Castle, who has had a rough spin. His wife is ill and there are two children and they are in difficulties. Lord Stoke has lent him a horse, and Knox has lent him the money to buy a pony and he wants to give lessons to children..." said Dr Ford. (p. 115)
Rose and Dora, from the vicarage, are quite good at riding, Tony is a rank beginner. George Knox finds fitting literary allusions to his prowess:
"‘Mr Knox,’ shouted Tony as soon as he was within hearing, ‘did you see me?’ ‘Good God, boy,’ said George Knox, ‘who in possession of the sense of sight could help seeing you? Who that has seen you could forget? Mazeppa on the Margate sands. I trust I make myself clear,’ he said courteously to Jenkins. ‘Yes, sir,’ said the groom, who was accustomed to gentlemen and therefore unmoved by George Knox’s comparison. ‘Or Leech’s Mr Briggs,’ continued George Knox, ‘which perhaps makes my meaning more patent...’" (p.122)
"...‘Forewarned is forearmed,’ said George Knox in a loud voice as Tony approached with flapping elbows and a joyful pink face, ‘and I will in no wise consent to listen to what you are infallibly going to say, my boy, and indeed I propose to forestall you. I did see you approach the jump; I did see you rise like the phoenix from the saddle, perhaps an unjustifiable metaphor, for between a saddle and a funeral pyre the relationship is obscure, yet let it pass; I did see you, Gilpin-wise clinging to neck and mane till equilibrium resumed her sway; I do at this very moment see you returned, and will not admit, though hell itself should gape – and why, by the way, Anne, do our tragedians pronounce that word when occurring in the immortal tragedy of Hamlet as Garp? Do we see some analogy with the custom by which the clergy allude when in the sacred edifice, though never, so far as my recollection and experience serve me, outside it, to the common ancestor of the Jewish race as Arbraham? – I will not, I say, admit that you showed any spark of horsemanship, of the manège, of the haute école...’" (p. 124)
"Mazeppa" is a poem by Byron about a Ukrainian hetman who is strapped naked onto the back of a wild horse. Margate is a seaside town and resort in Kent. No affiliation, I think.
John Leech 1817-1864 was an English illustrator. Mr Biggs featured in a series of cartoons for Punch on "The Pleasures of Horsekeeping".
John Gilpin was featured as the subject of a well-known comic ballad by William Cowper. Gilpin loses control of his horse and is carried far beyond his destination.
"...I do at this very moment see you returned, and will not admit, though hell itself should gape – and why, by the way, Anne, do our tragedians pronounce that word when occurring in the immortal tragedy of Hamlet as Garp? Do we see some analogy with the custom by which the clergy allude when in the sacred edifice, though never, so far as my recollection and experience serve me, outside it, to the common ancestor of the Jewish race as Arbraham?" (p. 124)
George Knox, in an aside.
A Nice Day in Town details the hardships faced by ordinary householders... well, Laura Morland, who is not so ordinary, being quite wealthy and in very poor physical condition. Sh travels by train to London, takes a bus to her usual department store, does some shopping, takes a taxi to a friends house, borrows a book, takes a taxi back to the station where, completely worn, she immediately falls asleep. The hardships are the scarcity of even common household goods. First published in "London Calling: A Salute to America" 1942.
George Knox always makes me smile, as does Tony, usually. Both are so egotistical and unaware they enjoy the humour of innocence. Laura does not lose as many hat-pins as later in the series, nor is her hair as unruly. Dr Ford is more gruff than I remember him being in later books. Dora and Rose are relatively quiet although even here we see Dora while not exactly challenging Tony's leadership, at least looks at him askance. Other characters are very pale in comparison.
Not really the Christmas book I was hoping for, but pretty good fun and easily read in odd moments. Middle-brow is, I think, the term used for the literary degree of Ms Thirkell's writing. This is not in any sense a difficulty book to read – the quotations can be obscure for a modern reader (me) - but it is light-hearted and often very funny.