A la caza del amor

Radlett and Montdore #1

by Nancy Mitford

En A la caza del amor, su novela de mayor éxito, Nancy Mitford utiliza elementos reales de su extravagante y famosa familia para construir el relato.

La acción se abre en el salón de Alconleigh, la casa de campo de los Radlett. Ante nuestros ojos van desfilando los distintos miembros de la familia: el malhumorado padre, tío Matthew, con sus violentos y cómicos estallidos de cólera y sus curiosos pasatiempos, como organizar cacerías en las que las piezas son alguno de sus hijos…; la ausente y devota madre, Sadie; y los siete hijos que junto a su prima Fanny forman una estrafalaria y divertidísima familia. Pero realmente es la joven Linda Radlett y su permanente búsqueda del amor el auténtico centro de esta historia. A través de sus páginas la acompañaremos en su azarosa conquista y conoceremos a los distintos hombres en los que creyó encontrarlo.

El texto despliega el famoso ingenio satírico y la extraordinaria capacidad de la autora para reconstruir el ambiente, la vida y las personas en los círculos aristocráticos ingleses de entreguerras. Un libro inteligente y divertido, que, aunque pudiera gustar simplemente por lo que es: una novela vibrante y mordaz, es también un verdadero trozo de vida.

Biografía de la autora

Nancy Mitford nació en Londres, primogénita del barón de Redesdale. Su azarosa infancia en una remota casa de campo junto a sus seis hermanos se cuenta en los capítulos iniciales de A la caza del amor, novela parcialmente autobiográfica. Sus padres tenían una visión particular de la educación de sus hijas y las únicas clases a las que Nancy asistió en su infancia fueron de equitación y francés. De formación por tanto autodidacta, Nancy Mitford empezó a escribir en 1932, y publicó cuatro novelas antes del gran éxito de A la caza del amor en 1945. Tras la guerra, se trasladó a París donde vivió hasta su muerte. Al éxito de A la caza del amor, le siguió el de Amor en clima frío (1949), La bendición (1951) y No se lo digas a Alfred (1960). Es autora asimismo varias biografías, así como de una famosa colección de ensayos, Noblesse Oblige, sobre lo que estaba de moda y lo que no entre la esnob aristocracia británica del momento.

Las hermanas Mitford fueron figuras famosas en la Inglaterra de su tiempo: Nancy la escritora, Pamela la aristócrata rural, Diana la fascista, Unity la nazi, Jessica la comunista, Deborah la duquesa de Devonshire. Glamurosas y heterodoxas, las Mitford parecían personajes de ficción: Diana dejó a su marido, un aristócrata multimillonario, por el líder fascista inglés sir Oswald Mosely, Unitiy se convirtió en una acólita de Hitler y se disparó en la cabeza –aunque sobrevivió- el día que Gran Bretaña declaró la guerra a Alemania. Jessica, por su parte, se fugó a Estados Unidos con un primo comunista donde terminó convirtiéndose en una periodista de éxito. La observadora y maliciosa Nancy la más intelectual de las seis, se integró en la generación conocida como Bright Young People o Brideshead Generation.

Críticas

«Una de las mejores novelas del 2005.

Genres: Fiction, Classics, Romance, Historical Fiction, British Literature, Humor, 20th Century

228 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 1945

About the author

Nancy Mitford, styled The Hon. Nancy Mitford before her marriage and The Hon. Mrs Peter Rodd thereafter, was an English novelist and biographer, one of the Bright Young People on the London social scene in the inter-war years. She was born at 1 Graham Street (now Graham Place) in Belgravia, London, the eldest daughter of Lord Redesdale, and was brought up at Asthall Manor in Oxfordshire. She was the eldest of the six controversial Mitford sisters.

She is best remembered for her series of novels about upper-class life in England and France, particularly the four published after 1945; but she also wrote four well-received, well-researched popular biographies (of Louis XIV, Madame de Pompadour, Voltaire, and Frederick the Great). She was one of the noted Mitford sisters and the first to publicize the extraordinary family life of her very English and very eccentric family, giving rise to a "Mitford industry," which continues.

Reviews

[Jeffrey Keeten · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Always either on a peak of happiness or drowning in black waters of despair they loved or they loathed, they lived in a world of superlatives.”


Nancy Mitford, unlucky in love, like many of her heroines.

Nancy Mitford had five sisters and one brother and when you look her up on wikipedia all of her siblings are in blue which of course means that wikipedia has a worthy entry for each one of them. They were certainly a talented, artistic family, and if this book is any indication also quick with the witty dialogue. Mitford draws heavily on her family’s personal history to write these novels. I have a feeling that after each book she probably received a fair share of bristling letters from her extended family as they take exception to one caricature or another or maybe they just all had a laugh knowing that everyone was going to get “got” at some point in time.


The Mitford Sisters

Fanny is the narrator and is reminded all the time how fortunate she is.”Oh, you are so lucky, to have wicked parents.” Her mother is referred to throughout most of the book as “The Bolter” as she runs through marriages like a crazed colt intent on escaping any form of stanchion. This means that Fanny spends most of her time at Alconleigh with her Aunt Sadie “Vague as she was, Aunt Sadie could not always be counted on to ignore everything that was happening around her.” and Uncle Matthew “Over the chimney-piece...hangs an entrenching tool, with which, in 1915 Uncle Matthew had whacked to death eight Germans one by one as they crawled out of a dugout. It is still covered with blood and hairs, an object of fascination to us as children.”. Fanny is best friends with her cousin Linda, a great beauty in a family of beautiful people. ”Isn’t it lovely to be lovely me?” This story is about Linda and from time to time as Fanny starts talking about herself too much she will remind herself and her reader, firmly, that this book is about Linda.

Linda marries a Conservative prig named Tony. He had been molded and shaped carefully by his family and they had reservations about Linda. ”Linda took no interest in politics, but she was instinctively and unreasonably English. She knew that one Englishman was worth a hundred foreigners, whereas Tony thought that one capitalist was worth a hundred workers. Their outlook upon this, as upon most subjects, differed fundamentally.”She had one odious, boring child with him named Moira who has all the attributes that will make her a quality member of her father’s parents. The issues the family has with Linda become more magnified as time goes on partly due to the way they treat her and refer to her. We do become what we are told we are if we are told it enough times.

She bolts.

She marries a Communist. He takes her to Spain to help with the Civil War. He falls in love with a friend of Linda’s, not a friend really but one of those friends that sometimes we are shackled with due to geography or family connections, named Lavender Davis. Linda is naturally affronted that he would find this shovel faced girl more attractive than himself, but then Lavender was more fanatical with the cause while Linda is, though proved to be more helpful than I would have thought, really just along for the ride.

She bolts.

She ends up being found at the train station in Paris, weeping over her luggage, by a well dressed (Is there any other kind?) Frenchman named Fabrice who turns out to be a wealthy Duke. He has just put his ex-girlfriend on the train and low and behold as if provided to him by a higher power is a beautiful young woman in need of assistance. A woman who needs his help in so many things.

”Now go on telling me about your husbands.”
“Only two. My first was a Conservative, and my second is a communist.”
“Just as I guessed, your first is rich, your second is poor. I could see you once had a rich husband, the dressing-case and the fur coat, though it is a hideous colour, and no doubt, as far as one could see, with it unbundled over your arm, a hideous shape. Still, vision usually betokens a rich husband somewhere. Then this dreadful linen suit you are wearing has ready-made written all over it.”
‘You are rude, it’s a very pretty suit.”
“And last year’s. Jackets are getting longer you will find. I’ll get you some clothes--if you were well dressed you would be quite good-looking, though it’s true your eyes are small. Blue, a good colour, but small.”
“In England,” said Linda, “I am considered a beauty.”
“Well, you have points.”


Gaston Palewski, the inspiration for the Fabrice character and the great love of Mitford’s life. He was incapable of fidelity, but he was with Mitford when she died despite being married to someone else.

Linda falls in love with her Duke. Germany is on the march and soon she will have to bolt back to England, but for once she does not want to go. She is visited by a contingent of concerned relatives and friends who give her some insight into her Frenchman.

”Who is he?” said Lord Merlin.
“He’s called the Duke of Sauveterre.”
A look of great surprise, mingled with horrified amusement, passed between Davey and Lord Merlin.
“Fabrice de Sauveterre?”
“Yes. Do you know him?”
“Darling Linda, one always forgets, under that look of great sophistication, what a little provincial you really are. Of course we know him, and all about him, and, what’s more, so does everyone except you.”
“Fabrice,” said Lord Merlin with emphasis, “is undoubtedly one of the wickedest men in Europe, as far as women are concerned. But I must admit that he’s an extremely agreeable companion.”

Fabrice might be wicked, but he also has a different idea about sin.

”I’ve just been to church.”
“Fabrice, how can you go to church when there’s me?”
“Of course I am. What do you suppose? Do you think I look like a Calvinist?”
“But then aren’t you living in mortal sin? So what about when you confess?”
“On ne precise pas,” said Fabrice, carelessly, “and in any case, these little sins of the body are quite unimportant.”

Linda had hoped that she was more than just “a little sin of the body” to Fabrice.


Drawing of Fabrice and Linda from the Folio Edition that I read.

This book sparkles with wit and charm. Everything is told in such a breezy and light matter that even when great tragedy strikes Mitford does not alter her tone as if to say “it is what it is”. The dialogue is snappy and gives us a good idea of what conversations must have been like among the Mitford clan. I ended up reading passages out loud to my wife and she chortled along with me. I had to restrain myself from not relating more of the dialogue in this review. This book is laugh out loud funny and full of eccentric behavior from pastel dyed doves to bejewelled dogs to a revered blood encrusted trenching tool over the mantelpiece. I will most assuredly be reading book two in the series Love in a Cold Climate.

My GR friend Michael Edwards shared a great story about Queen of England choosing this Mitford for reading. The quote is from Bennett's The Uncommon Readerand it is just too good not to add to this review

The Pursuit of Love turned out to be a fortunate choice and in its way a momentous one. Has Her Majesty gone for another duff read, an early George Eliot, say, or a late Henry James, novice reader that she was she might have been put off reading for good and there would be no story to tell. Books, she would have thought, were work.
As it was, with this one she soon became engrossed, and passing her bedroom that night clutching his hot-water bottle, the duke heard her laugh out loud. He put his head around the door. 'All right, old girl?'
'Of course, I'm reading.'

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[Luís · Rating 5 out of 5]

I liked this novel. Behind Nancy Mitford's humor and sharp pen, the much less brilliant reality of growing up within the British aristocracy is revealed. Fanny and Linda enter the world without much knowledge of being adults in their social sphere. The novel is ultimately profound, and its ending is imbued with melancholy.

[Lizzy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nancy Mitford's The Pursuit of Love is about love and loss, about family unity, about memories and senseless consequences. A very worthy theme, for love is what enriches our memories and memories what sustains our lives.

There they are, held like flies, in the amber of that moment – click goes the camera and on goes life; the minutes, the days, the years, the decades, taking them further and further from that happiness and promise of youth, from the hopes Aunt Sadie must have had for them, and from the dreams they dreamed for themselves. I often think there is nothing quite so poignantly sad as old family groups.

Mitford tells us a compelling portrait, majorly autobiographical, of what life was all about for aristocratic women between the wars in Britain. We read about their snobbery, genuine affections, their trivial pursuits, and a family life that united them despite their peccadillos. Mitford’s style of writing captures the absurdity of life in an amusing way, and I was often struck by how modern her writing comes through in a prose that depicts nonconformist passions and life choices.

The Radletts were always either on a peak of happiness or drowning in black waters of despair; their emotions were on no ordinary plane, they loved or they loathed, they laughed or they cried, they lived in a world of superlatives.

Mitford centers her novel on the eccentrics and aristocratic Radlett family and is told from Fanny's point of view, a cousin who spends most of her time at Alconleigh with the Radletts. The tale follows beautiful and young Linda, the most whimsical and extravagant of the five Radlett children, in her pursuit of love. Here is a character that is spoiled and entitled, yet I still earnestly hoped she would find what she eagerly wanted.

So, let me let Fanny tell us of Linda’s adventuress with love. We read about how Linda first fell in love, and what could she do but marry?

"What could possibly have induced Linda to marry Anthony Kroesig? ...What was she after, surely she could never possibly have been in love with him, what was the idea, how could it have happened? He was admittedly very rich, but so were others and surely the fascinating Linda had only to choose? The answer was, of course, that, quite simply, she was in love with him.

The first love soon turns into her first mistake, her lover upon closer acquaintance turned out to not have ever existed but in her imagination. Differently, from what we might expect, Linda does not recriminates herself but persists in her quest for love. And on comes Christian, an antithesis as a Communist to the wealthy Anthony. Undoubtedly another mistake, as Fanny tells us:
I don’t quite know why, but I felt somehow that Linda had been once more deceived in her emotions, that this explorer in the sandy waste had seen only another mirage. The lake was there, the trees were there, the thirsty camels had gone down to have their evening drink; alas, a few steps forward would reveal nothing but dust and desert as before.
After these two failures, what else could we expect of Linda’s prospects? Other than that she did not know how to choose wisely.

"Whatever quality it is that can hold indefinitely the love and affection of a man she plainly did not possess, and now she was doomed to the lonely, hunted life of a beautiful but unattached woman. Where now was love that would last to the grave and far beyond? What had she done with her youth? Tears for her lost hopes and ideals, tears of self-pity in fact, began to pour down her cheeks.

However, with her third lover, a Frenchman named Fabrice who turns out to be a Duke, Linda seemed to have found the love of her life.

She was filled with a strange, wild, unfamiliar happiness, and knew that this was love. Twice in her life, she had mistaken something else for it; it was like seeing somebody on the street who you think is a friend, you whistle and wave and run after him, and it is not only not the friend, but not even very like him. A few minutes later the real friend appears in view, and then you can’t imagine how you ever mistook him.

In spite of her happiness, we are reminded that this was 1939, and the atmosphere was not one for love and lovers and their pleasures, on the contrary, it was a time of fighting and death.

When the war, which had for so long been pending, did actually break out some six weeks later, Linda was strangely unmoved by the fact. She was enveloped in the present, in her own detached and futureless life, which, anyhow, seemed so precarious, so much from one hour to another: exterior events hardly impinged on her consciousness. When she thought about the war it seemed to her almost a relief that it had actually begun.

Linda, would have liked to think that she was more than a little sin of the body, after living with the married Fabrice as his mistress, found herself that back in London. Later, alone, she was welcome back by her parents, regardless of all her misadventures. As is Fanny’s mother, the Bolter, and always known for her immorality. My mother sat in the hall drinking whisky-and-soda. …and the man with her a ruffian-looking Spaniard called Juan. …Some confusion was caused in the household at first by the fact that none could remember whether she had, in the end, actually married the Major... What astounds is that despite the moral criticism, there is never merciless censure. It speaks of a familial affection and support that accepts into its core those who may have sinned. This is beautifully revealed by Mitford, how the family lovingly envelopes the capricious child, as a certain destination in moments of sorrow. So as we read on, we are positively surprised by the fact that all dark and sufferings, griefs and pains are quickly left behind for a brighter humorous tone.

The heroine in her quest for love if she even reminisces her last failures is with a little sorrow if she remembers it is with no real sense of loss. Oh, don’t pity me. I’ve had eleven months of perfect and unalloyed happiness, very few people can say that, in the course of long long lives, I imagine.; she rather focuses on the future and her new pursuits. The future, with its infuriating promises of tenderness, is always there in her eager anticipation. And at a crucial moment, she is taken back into the family’s core, by the people that always adored her. There is always hope, despite recent disasters, and never remorse. That can be said of all characters in Mitford’s novel, and in even minor details that end up sustaining them in their most challenging moments.

‘You’ve sacked him, I hope?’ Uncle Matthew said, suspiciously.
‘No, indeed, I’ve not sacked him,’ said Davey, ‘on the contrary, I’ve engaged him. My dears, you’ll never guess, it’s too glamourous for words, Juan is a cook, he was the cook, I gather, of some cardinal before the Civil War. You don’t mind I hope, Sadie. I look upon this as an absolute lifeline – Spanish food, so delicious, so unconstipating, so digestible, so full of glorious garlic. Oh, the joy, no more poison-burger – how soon can we get rid of Mrs Beecher?

It was a miracle in such hard times.

Even Uncle Mattew acknowledge the change.
‘If I were the Bolter,’ he said, ‘I should marry him.’

The thing that made me think is that, despite the differences, we know people like those depicted by Mitford in her novel. The Radletts, who were always either on a peak of happiness or drowning in black water of despair, are so like many people out there: parents that don’t prepare their children for the realities of life. People that believe it is the outside world that needs to conform to their principles; people whose offspring react the only way they know, by running off into the world where they don’t know what they will find. Regardless, here they are welcomed back and all ends supposedly well. That is not always the case. Nevertheless, Mitford writes with wit and an unmerciful courage for telling the story of her own family.

The Pursuit of Love is a wonderful satirical novel full of extraordinary characters. Mitford expunges the glitter to expose the terrible disappointments that are inevitable in life. Nevertheless, we are left with a feeling of optimism and faith.

[Warwick · Rating 4 out of 5]

After some of the books I have read recently – interesting ones, but with prose that's ranged from workmanlike to experimental – it was a huge pleasure to indulge myself with a writer that has such perfect mastery over her sentences. This sparkling, clear-sighted and unromantic romantic comedy is a little chef d'œuvre of wit and dazzling conversation, in which Mitford deploys the same mannered levity to write about great tragedy that she does to describe an amusing misunderstanding at a dinner party.

Like innumerable British comedies from Shakespeare to The Office, the humour is founded on class differences. In fact, not the least pleasure in The Pursuit of Love comes from its value as English social history: splenetic Uncle Matthew, in particular, is a wonderfully ogreish character, roaring around his country estate, hunting his children with hounds, and bursting into apoplexy if his daughters use such deplorably middle-class vocabulary as notepaper, mantelpiece, mirror or perfume. (Mitford is confident that discerning readers will know, without being told, that one must instead say writing-paper, chimneypiece, looking-glass and scent; and instead of spending a weekend at Alconleigh, you will be invited to spend ‘a Saturday to Monday’ there.)

Uncle Matthew is not a literary man – the only book he's ever read is White Fang – and I did enjoy the passage where he was dragged to a performance of Romeo and Juliet:

It was not a success. He cried copiously, and went into a furious rage because it ended badly. ‘All the fault of that damned padre,’ he kept saying on the way home, still wiping his eyes. ‘That fella, what's 'is name, Romeo, might have known a blasted papist would mess up the whole thing. Silly old fool of a nurse too, I bet she was an RC, dismal old bitch.’

Uncle Matthew is a thinly-disguised portrait of Baron Redesdale, Nancy Mitford's father, and it's tempting, though not quite possible, to read the whole book as a roman à clef. In fact, our heroine, Linda Radlett, is a kind of amalgam of all the Mitford sisters.

As the title suggests, the book is broadly about her search for love, and yet despite the witty tone and the extraordinary lightness of touch, the plot itself is shot through with flashes of cruelty and tragedy. Such things can be borne, though, the book suggests; and are even, perhaps, preferable to a life of uneventful blandness.

[T]hey could not stand boredom. Storms and difficulties left them unmoved, but day after day of ordinary existence produced an unbearable torture of ennui…

Linda seems on the verge of this with some of her unhappy relationships. I loved her failure to adapt to household domesticity:

‘But oh how dreadful it is, cooking, I mean. That oven – Christian puts things in and says: “Now you take it out in about half an hour.” I don't dare tell him how terrified I am, and at the end of half an hour I summon up all my courage and open the oven, and there is that awful hot blast hitting one in the face. I don't wonder people sometimes put their heads in and leave them in out of sheer misery.’

Laughter, once cultivated, is never far away in this book, or in the lives of its most appealing characters; and this is what allows you to cope with the many disasters that life is likely to throw at you.

The understated wit has been mistaken for lack of feeling, but the emotions are real and deep – what's carefully controlled is how we choose to talk about it. Even the book's cursory, tragic ending can be accepted (I say this as someone who hates unhappy endings), because it is so obviously done for the sake of neatness. And this is a very neat book – slim, fitted, elegant, really an unalloyed delight.

[Lisa · Rating 5 out of 5]

Love is ...

... first sexual responses. You shouldn't marry that!

... running away from a dull conventional relationship to feel alive. You shouldn't marry that!

... embracing passion and letting go of other people's judgment to be yourself with someone who shares your values. You could possibly - but not necessarily - marry that!

Linda manages to marry for all the wrong reasons at a time when marrying was a rather definitive affair. She married rich, conservative Tony and his banking family (for marriage is never only between two people, it is between tribal values). Then she let the pendulum move to the other side of the political spectrum and ran away with an idealist whose incapacity for individual relationships was as great as his passion for collective social justice.

In the end, she stumbled upon Fabrice, who taught her physical pleasure and love.

But love is ... changeable, and had the two of them survived the Second World War, who knows where they would have drifted?

For even though Fabrice was Linda's great love, it ALWAYS is, as long as it lasts, isn't it?

So instead of living happily ever after, which never happens, they died while they were still happily in love, like Romeo and Juliet. Imagine them after twenty years of marriage? No!

A fabulously light and nostalgic interlude in my heavy Grass diet!

[Paul Bryant · Rating 4 out of 5]

As you know, in white bread the germ, with its wonderful health-giving properties, is eliminated – extracted, I should say – and put into chicken food. As a result the human race is becoming enfeebled, while hens grow larger and stronger with every generation.

This little book is stuffed with people who have the most curious opinions of everything. They’re all aristocrats, Lord this, Lady that, the Honorable whatever. And the family Nancy is telling us about – a version of her own, of course – is even more reactionary and peculiar than most. On the subject of holidays, for example :

It would never have occurred to the Alconleighs to visit the Continent for any other purpose than that of fighting.

And here’s one I loved :

His general attitude to what he called the man in the street was that he ought constantly to be covered by machine-guns

There is no plot here, just the tumultuous lives and loves of some of this outrageous family progressing from the 20s all the way to the end of World War II and in particular following Linda.

Linda took no interest in politics, but she was instinctively and unreasonably English. She knew that one Englishman was worth a hundred foreigners.

First she marries a banker. That doesn’t go well, and she runs off with a stern communist and immediately changes her politics.

Linda threw discretion to the winds; she became an out-and-out Communist, bored and embarrassed everybody to death by preaching her new-found doctrine , not only at the dinner-table, but also from a soap-box in Hyde Park, and other equally squalid rostra

(You don’t get that plural rostra used much these days.) Linda finds herself having to run a household all by herself – no servants allowed for Communists! She exclaims :

I think housework is more tiring and frightening than hunting is, no comparison, and yet after hunting we had eggs for tea and were made to rest for hours, but after housework people expect one to go on just as if nothing special had happened.

(She means foxhunting with hounds, by the way.)

And she comes up with this pearl of wisdom

Left-wing people are always sad because they mind dreadfully about their causes, and the causes are always going so badly.

How still true is that, alas!

The Communist doesn’t last the distance either but to find out what happens next to the lovely Linda, you have to read this beautiful affectionate satire.

Dwarlings, it’s really too too marvellous.

[Magrat Ajostiernos · Rating 5 out of 5]

RESEÑA COMPLETA: https://cronicasdemagrat.wordpress.co...
Me lo he pasado demasiado bien con este libro como para no darle la máxima puntuación posible.
Es ingenioso, ligero, divertido... pero con destellos de una realidad terrible (La Guerra Civil española con sus refugiados, el auge del fascismo, la Segunda Guerra Mundial...).
Es un libro lleno de personajes ridículos y maravillosos (tío Matthew y Lord Merlin INOLVIDABLES), totalmente british. Realmente creo que si Jane Austen hubiera nacido en el siglo XX hubiera escrito algo así.

[Katie · Rating 3 out of 5]

How much you like this will depend on how charmed you are by its frothy flippant tone. I'm afraid it didn't win me over. That said, there are sparks of brilliance. Especially when it focuses on the expectations of love held by young girls. The reality of men, on the whole, flattens these expectations as mercilessly as the Germans flatten London during the Blitz. The men in this book are comprehensively pretty awful. Even, reading between the lines, the ones our narrator likes. Ultimately, the real life of the Mitford sisters seems to me far more explosive and fascinating than this rather frilly fictional account of some of their exploits in the midst of world war two. Disappointing.

[mark monday · Rating 4 out of 5]

a pleasant and charming trifle, but since I consider little luxuries to be little necessities, spice as important as salt, it is perhaps better to call this a treasure rather than a trifle. the prose is airy and nonchalant, the narrative unspools in stops & starts like memories, imperfectly formed, and yet not a word is out of place, all of the trivial conversations and amusing anecdotes fit perfectly together. the kind of book that feels like it was a breeze to write but it must have taken no small skill to place all of the parts together just so. little of consequence appears to happen, except of course birth, love, and death. ironic wit and an effortless ease with words go a long way for me, and as with two of my favorite writers, Jack Vance and Georgette Heyer, such things came naturally for Nancy Mitford. what a treat it must have been to have conversations with this author. this belongs on the shelf between The Camomile Lawn and her friend Henry Green's Party Going. it has much of the telling not showing of Mary Wesley's Lawn and rather less of that book's soulfulness and depth; it shares the social milieu of Green's Party but lacks the acidic bite of his misanthropy. the offhand storytelling style of the novel made the deaths at the end - mentioned matter-of-factly and almost in passing - such a startling, shattering experience that those two short paragraphs had me shedding tears from out of nowhere. and they boosted this charmer from a worthy 3 stars to a memorable 4 stars. this is a nimble, amusing, eventually resonant lark of a book.

[Antoinette · Rating 5 out of 5]

An absolutely delightful book!!

It is funny; it is sweet; it is charming; it’s simply a lovely read!

This novel is largely autobiographical. It is about Nancy Mitford’s family, in disguise.

Fanny is our narrator. Much as we meet the whole family, the Radlett’s, the book is largely about Linda, and her pursuit of love. Being a romantic at heart and desperate for love, she falls in love immediately, only to live in regret.

Does she finally find true love? Well, you will have to read this book to find out.

PUBLISHED: 1945

[Gabrielle (Reading Rampage) · Rating 5 out of 5]

Update review, re-read 2026:

Ah, a little escapism. A few giggles. A sigh at silly romance. Yes, 'The Pursuit of Love' is all these things, which is why I picked it up this week. I needed something gentle and funny, and this book has lifted my mood in the past.

I had forgotten how hilarious it is: Mitford had the sharpest wit in English literature, and she gleefully eviscerated everyone with her quick mind - but there's no hate there, even when you feel like their maybe should have been. Her characters are human, flawed and you warm up to the dumbest of them. I love that Uncle Matthew cried at 'Romeo & Juliet', even if he didn't understand it. I love that the Bolter got herself out of a Spanish prison, even if she did it by the stupidest means possible. I'm glad that Linda got her 11 months of pure happiness.

The end is sad. It made me cry, though I might have had lots of other emotions bottled up from watching the news this week that made the top pop off when I got to the final few pages. Love is the best and the worst thing humans experience, isn't it? And lost of love, in any shape, is the sharpest pain we are likely to ever feel.

A gem. Everyone should read it - more so when a little glimmer is necessary.

--

I had a few low days a couple weeks ago, and on a whim, I downloaded the new BBC adaptation of “The Pursuit of Love”, starring the ever-adorable Lily James, and I am happy to report that it was just the pick-me-up I needed (and I adored the anachronistic soundtrack!). Funny, silly, romantic and tender, it’s just a romantic comedy on the surface. But just underneath that, it’s a story about the importance of friendship and also about how difficult, confusing and frustrating love can be. It also takes not-so-gentle jabs at the way the upper middle class behaved during the inter-war era, and stomps joyfully on the stereotype of sexless Englishness. I happened to find a copy of a collection of three novels by Nancy Mitford and cracked it open as soon as I got it home. I wanted a larger dose of that effervescent story-telling.

I wondered, as I read, how I would have reacted to this book had I read it when I was much younger. Being way past the “Bolter” phase of my life, it makes me smile and think of past misadventures with a little wistfulness – but I imagine that at 15 or 16, I would have wanted to be Linda so bad. Maybe it’s better for everyone that I read it at 36 instead…

"The Pursuit of Love", in case you didn't know, is the story of a girl with wildly romantic ideas who wants a great love story, like the one she’s read about in books, and who, not unlike Emma Bovary, is often disappointed in this quest. But she has more pluck than Emma, and she carries on despite her disappointments. Beware of spoilers from here on.

Linda has an eccentric upbringing in a large Oxfordshire estate, ruled over by a belligerent father and a slightly checked-out mother, with a whole brood of siblings who can't wait to get away. Her best friend and confident is her cousin Fanny, our narrator. Fanny's mother, known simply as The Bolter (as she bolts from one marriage to another - and I love that they never even call her by her name, and simply address her as Bolter) is largely absent, but her shadow and reputation hang over Linda, who ends up on a path not that different from her aunt's.

She marries the first man she falls in love with, the arrogant and borish Tory Tony, with whom she has a child she can't stand. She eventually leaves him for Christian, an ardent Communist who struggles with his affection for her, as his mind is constantly on the welfare of People in general. After following him to help out with the Spanish Civil War refugees in the South of France, she realizes he will never love her the way her romantic nature demands, and decides to go home. But on her way to London, she will meet the aloof but irresistible Fabrice de Sauveterre...

I was very struck by the hilariously inadequate upbringing all the Radlett children are put through. No wonder none of them ever make a single reasonable decision about their lives! And as written with Mitford's sparkling wit, all the supporting characters are wonderfully endearing: I loved crazy Uncle Matthew, eccentric Lord Merlin and hypochondriac Davey so much! Their quirks make them seem larger than life, but they also feel quite real: knowing what we know about the real life of the Mitford clan, I suspect they are based on very real relatives of Nancy's...

This book is like one of those adorable little mini bottles of champagne: it's a delight you can almost swallow in one gulp and it will leave you giddy and wanting more. I adored it, and I suspect I will pick it up again next time I crave a quick shot of loveliness.

[Carol, She's so Novel ꧁꧂ · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5★

I'm a big fan of Nancy Mitford's & this is the book of hers that I most wanted to read. I have owned Love in a Cold Climate & Don't Tell Alfred for a while now, but I am glad I waited till I had the first in the series in my hot little hands.

It was worth the wait - I enjoyed this novel very much. There is a lot of Nancy & her family in this. so your enjoyment of this book may depend on how amusing you have found the Mitfords in various works about them.

I have just knocked half a star off - in part because there were a few lulls for me, but mainly because during some of the funniest lines in the book it is baldly announced that the main character, Linda, dies in childbirth. Truly, the (brief) change in tone was a shock!

But I am looking forward to continuing the series.

https://wordpress.com/view/carolshess...

[Algernon · Rating 4 out of 5]

Life, she thought, is sometimes sad and often dull, but there are currants in the cake and here is one of them.The early morning sun shone past her window on to the river, her ceiling danced with water-reflections. The Sunday silence was broken by two swans winging slowly upstream, and then by the chugging of a little barge, while she waited for that other sound, a sound more intimately connected with the urban love affair than any except the telephone bell, that of a stopping taxicab. Sun, silence, and happiness. Presently she heard it in the street, slowly, slower, it stopped, the flag went up with a ring, the door slammed, voices, clinking coins, footsteps. She rushed downstairs.

Linda Radlett apparently has it all : a noble ancestry, wealth, beauty, wit, friends. The only thing missing, the elusive dream she always chases is love. We first meet Linda as a child of ten, seen through the eyes of her cousin Fanny, the narrator of the story. They are the same age, and together they will navigate the turbulent waters of Victorian social conventions in the years after the first World War in search of the safe harbour of the perfect marriage, the perfect husband and the perfect love story.

I picked up the book expecting the kind of funny and laidback summer entertainment that I get from P G Wodehouse and from the pre-War Hollywood screwball comedies : rich people in sumptuous mansions flirting endlessly while the reality of hunger and strife and violence seems to belong to a different planet. In the beginning, that was exactly what I got as the Radlett family is introduced in all its irreverent and disruptive glory: Uncle Matthew who keeps above the mantelpiece the bloody entrenching tool that he used to gore eight Germans in the mud of the Somme, who hunts his own children with bloodhounds when he runs out of game and who terrorizes the housemaids every morning as they go about their duties, his absent minded wife Sadie, her sister 'The Bolter' who abandoned daughter Fanny to be raised like a cuckoo among relatives and who is now changing husbands on the continent more often than mink coats, the children who run feral on the estate sabotaging their father's animal traps, the Alconleigh Castle itself with its always cold rooms and dusty mementoes of family history.

The great advantage of living in a large family is that early lesson of life's essential unfairness.

It is soon evident that Nancy Mitford is not interested in the escapism value of the story. Given the clear autobiographical origin for the Radlett family antics (a case where life beats fiction in the Mitford scandal ridden legacy), I believe the author tried not only to preserve the spirit of her childhood memories, but also to exorcise the demons that have haunted her own search for love and happiness. Not only through the eyes of Fanny, but through all the Radlett siblings we see how the late Victorian rigid code has been shackling women and limited their options in life to the sole role of housewife. Lord Matthew refuses to let his daughters attend any form of school, as he firmly believes that piano, French and riding lessons are the only education they need in order to ensnare a husband. Louisa marries an elderly friend of her father in her very first year of coming out in society, Matt the only boy runs away from school to fight in the Spanish Civil War, Jassy saves all her petty money for the day when she will run away from home. And Linda herself dreams of marrying the Prince of Wales, when she's not scaring her siblings with lurid descriptions of the physical act of love. Even Fanny, whose clear eyed Aunt Emily has forced to attend school, is not exempt from the lure of fantasies about men and marriage. One of my favorite scenes early in the book is of the two
now teenage girls getting ready for their first unchaperoned and illicit date( they were forbidden make-up, as Uncle Matthew firmly believed a woman's compexion is best au-naturel):

- I once read in a book that you can use geranium juice for rouge.
- Geraniums aren't out at this time of year, silly.
- We can blue our eyelids out of Jassy's paint-box.
- And sleep in curlers.
- I'll get the verbena soap out of Mummy's bathroom. If we let it melt in the bath, and soak for hours in it, we shall smell delicious.

As unfit to cope with the real world as a nun raised in a convent, Linda falls under the spell of Tony, the first handsome young man that pays hommage to her beauty, and marries him despite her family reservations. The Kroesigs are a rich family of bankers in the City, and their Junker inspired obsession with profits and respectability soon feel like shackles to the free spirit and unconventional Linda. Even passion is not strong enough to overcome boredom:

She simply could not understand how somebody who already had plenty of money could go and shut himself away from God's fresh air and blue skies, from the spring, the summer, the autumn, the winter, letting them merge into each other unaware that they were passing, simply in order to make more. [...] The young man she had fallen in love with, handsome, gay, intellectual and domineering, melted away upon closer acquaintance, and proved to have been a chimera, never to have existed outside of her imagination. Linda did not commit the usual fault of blaming Tony for what was entirely her own mistake, she merely turned from him in absolute indifference.

Still unable to learn from past mistakes, Linda lets herself fall under the spell of another man, the exact opposite of the right wing, conservative Kroesigs. She runs away from home to be with her Communist lover and gives up wealth and her social life to marry Christian, as good looking as he is consummed by his political activism. Not used to playing second fiddle in her husbands attentions and unable to cope with household chores on her own, Linda is ripe for another elopement.

Third time lucky? Enters Fabrice, a smooth French Duke who literally sweeps her off her feet and installs her in a Parisian apartment, introduces her to haute-couture, haute cuisine and last but not least, French expertise between the sheets.



I couldn't help myself. With a name like Fabrice and with his French Conversation, The only thing I could picture and hear was Pepe le Pew. Fabrice is an aristocrat advocating a social elitism that seems hard to achieve if you are not born into the right class :

Everybody is getting more serious, that's the way things are going. but, whatever one may be in politics, right, left, Fascist, Communist, les gens du monde are the only possible ones for friends. You see, they have made a fine art of personal relationships and of all that pertains to them - manners, clothes, beautiful houses, good food, everything that makes life agreeable. It would be silly not to take advantage of that. Friendship is something to be built up carefully, by people of leisure, it is an art, nature does not come into it. You should never despise social life - de la haute societe - I mean, it can be a very satisfying one, entirely artificial of course, but absorbing. Apart from the life of the intellect and the contemplative religious life, which few people are qualified to enjoy, what else is there to distinguish man from the animals but his social life?

Some of the effervescent wit and zest for life from the beginning of the novel resurfaces in Linda's life, but the year is 1939 and a rude awakening is just around the corner for the two lovers. Despite his profession of epicurean nonchalance, Fabrice joins the French Army to fight the German threat, and Linda is sent back to London to await the end of hostilities. In London, Linda gets reunited with Fanny, by now happily married with an Oxford Don, and they compare notes on the success of their quest for happiness:

Alfred and I are Happy, as happy as married people can be. We are in love, we are intellectually and physically suited in every possible way, we rejoice in each other's company, we have no money troubles and three delightful children. And yet, when I consider my life, day by day, hour by hour, it seems to be composed of a series of pinpricks. Nannies, cooks, the endless drudgery of housekeeping, the nerve-racking noise and boring repetitive conversation of small children (boring in the sense that it bores into one's very brain), their absolute incapacity to amuse themselves, their sudden and terrifying illnesses, alfred's not infrequent bouts of moodiness, his invariable complaints at meals about the pudding, the way he will always use my tooth-paste and will always squeeze the tube in the middle. These are the components of marriage, the wholemeal bread of life, rough, ordinary, but sustaining; Linda has been feeding upon honey-dew, and that is an incomparable diet.

The bittersweet ending of the novel is one more confirmation for me of how much more than a funny escapist story this journey turned out to be. Many novels are famous for their opening lines, but The Pursuit of Love will stay with me for its closing remarks, as The Bolter explains hers and Linda's inconstancy of the heart:

- He was the great love of her life, you know.
- Oh, darling, said my mother sadly. One always thinks that. Every, every time.

[Roman Clodia · Rating 5 out of 5]

Warm, witty, elegant, an affectionate portrait of Mitford's own eccentric English family - but what makes this such a brilliant read for me is her sceptical approach to love. Whether in her portraits of Linda's failed marriages, her affair with Fabrice de Sauveterre, or the more mundane marriages of Louisa and Fanny, Mitford refuses to offer up a rose-tinted view of romance, quite unlike that of her charming if naive heroine, Linda.

It's this underlay of grit, however well disguised, that makes me love this book. It's so spot-on whether we're laughing at Uncle Matthew spluttering over 'bloody foreigners' while gazing wistfully at the entrenching tool with which he battered seven Germans to death in the WW1 trenches, or the views we get of Spanish refugees flooding into France to escape Franco's fascist regime, or the glimpses of Dunkirk, the Blitz, and the work of the Free French and Resistance - yes, these are background but they give a grounding of gravitas and a sprinkling of real pain that make this far more than elegantly-written froth. Oh, and that ending gets me every time!

[Celeste Corrêa · Rating 4 out of 5]

Obrigada, Paula ❤!

«— Eu não quero ser uma curiosidade literária — disse a Linda.
— Gostava de fazer parte de uma geração realmente formidável. Acho que é demasiado triste ter nascido em 1911.»

Diverti-me, emocionei-me, encantei-me com a escrita e entristeci-me com o final, muito pelo facto de saber que o livro tem continuação.

Acredito que a felicidade e o amor são possíveis, mas, como tristemente diz uma personagem: «Julgamos sempre que é assim. Sempre, em todos os momentos.»

4 estrelas.

[Beverly · Rating 3 out of 5]

I am fascinated by the Mitford girls and so read this novel. I believe I have read it before, but could not remember if I had or not, so decided to give it a go. It was in a list of middle-brow books that is here on Goodreads and was sent to me by someone on Goodreads. Thank goodness they did, because I have discovered some wonderful, quirky, and nearly forgotten books by women on it.

This was not really my cup of tea. It lacks something, but I really can't put my finger on what. I enjoyed the stories of the family when they are children more than the grownup trials of Linda in her search for love. Poor Linda pursues some pretty terrible men. The first husband is a stuffy banker, the second a self-involved socialist and the third is a narcissistic French aristocrat. Sacre bleu! The third time is the charm though and the winner, because he is a good lover and showers Linda with gifts, attention and her own apartment in Paris. C'est la Vie!

[Jenny (Reading Envy) · Rating 4 out of 5]

I confess my primary reason for reading this book is to do so before the BBC series becomes available in the states. It is campy and silly, high society British families worrying about fashion and marriage in the years right before WWII. I understand the characters are all based on Nancy Mitford's family (you can read the uncle as her real-life father.) The sisters/cousins marry fascist sympathizers or Communists and there don't seem to be many options in between.

Interestingly the review of her biography, Life in a Cold Climate: Nancy Mitford, gives a decent overview of the novel and her life (I dare to say reality is even crazier than fiction in this regard.)

[Chrissie · Rating 1 out of 5]

OK, I do not like writing reviews of books I detest, and so I will try and keep this brief.

I knew before I picked this up that the story would be a fictionalized retelling of events in the lives of the Mitfords. At the beginning it was a bit of a game figuring out which fictional character corresponded to which member of the Mitford family. That solved, I became more and more bored. If you know about the family members you learn nothing new about the family from this book. In addition, real facts are jumbled. The central problem though is that the story offers nothing creatively new.

The writing had no attraction for me, and the humor is slapstick. Maybe you like slapstick humor. I don't. The humor and the events as the book nears its end turn the whole into a circus performance.

I don't mind reading a good love story, if it is good. Good in the sense that the reader emotionally, palpably, feels the physical and personal attraction. In this story we follow several girls of the Radlett family, each in the pursuit of love. The central character, Linda, has one husband after another. It is the chase, the pursuit, rather than the love itself that is the theme.

The bottom line is that I didn't give a hoot about any of the girls. When they were happy I felt nothing. I want to feel empathy for a book's characters.

When the story nears the end and is set in Paris I was positively cringing at the emotions displayed, the words said and the choices made. If I wasn't recoiling with displeasure I was laughing at the antics, at the characters and how the story was unfolding. I was never laughing with anyone. I was laughing at the totally ridiculous situation drawn by the author. My laughter was ridicule, not praise.

The audiobook is narrated by Emilia Fox. Her French is atrocious. In a novel where the French lines are left translated, obviously one ought to pick a narrator that knows French! The women’s voices are shrill and inappropriately juvenile. The further I got into the book, the more irritated I became. By the end I was immensely annoyed and I just wanted to turn the audiobook off. The reading grated on my nerves.

I have given both the book and the narration one stars. Sure, others may like this, but I don’t.

[Sasha · Rating 5 out of 5]

It's called The Pursuit of Love and that's what it's about, in the grand tradition of women's novels about pursuing love, which was perfected by Jane Austen and then immediately subverted by virtually everyone else until really the only subversive thing left is to return to Austen unironically, which is more or less what Mitford has done. It contains one of the best descriptions of love I've ever read, which is saying something since one could make a passable argument that describing love is all literature has ever done. Here it is, although I should warn you that it contains a hint of spoilers in it, not that this book is one where spoilers are exactly a thing:

She was filled with strange, wild, unfamiliar happiness, and knew that this was love. Twice in her life she had mistaken something else for it; it was like seeing somebody in the street who you think is a friend, you whistle and wave and run after him, and it is not only not the friend, but not even very like him. A few minutes later the real friend appears in view, and then you can't imagine how you ever mistook that other person for him.

This is Linda, whose efforts to find love are the focus of the book. Her tour involves a Nazi sympathizer and a communist, both of whose philosophies are breezily dismissed. It's all very funny, with a tinge of underlying melancholy. (“I’ve had 11 months of perfect and unalloyed happiness, very few people can say that in the course of long, long lives, I imagine," Linda says at one point, which I agree with and it's very sad. And the end is quietly, succinctly devastating.) Most of the characters are not exactly good - with the exception of the narrator herself, boring and solid fifth business cousin Fanny - but they're extremely likable. I find myself unable to dislike Linda even after she completely abandons her own child: "I can always tell if I like people from the start," she says plainly, "and I don't like Moira, that's all. She's a fearful Counter-Hon." The book casually divides the world into Hons, the good ones, and Counter-Hons, terms which were taken - like much of the book - from Nancy Mitford's own life.

That sort of casual callousness apparently turns folks off sometimes. Zoe Heller says in her introduction that "Readers who appreciate the novel tend to love it with a dotty passion; others, who escape the enchantment, are apt to despise it with almost equal fervour. The decisive factor, in either case, seems to be the voice – the unmistakable Mitford trill, in whose light, bright cadences an entire hard-to-shock and easy-to-bore view of life is made manifest." Which, you know, color me dotty, this book is great.

[Fiona MacDonald · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really quite wonderful. I had no idea what to expect from Nancy Mitford, knowing that people are divided over her type of comedy. Luckily it was exactly the sort of comedy that I like, and I found my first experience with her fabulous and so incredibly funny. I also unknowingly read this first without realizing that it's the first in a series of stories about the same characters - I cannot wait to read 'Love in a Cold Climate.'

[Lisa (NY) · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book was not for me. The beginning, focusing on the childhood of the narrator and her friend Linda, was fairly absorbing. But then it switched focus to Linda who became more and more self-absorbed and empty-headed. I lost interest. The blurbs call it "deliciously funny" but I found ridiculously inedible.

[Margitte · Rating 4 out of 5]

SUMMARY FROM THE BOOK

Nancy Mitford’s most enduringly popular novel, The Pursuit of Love is a classic comedy about growing up and falling in love among the privileged and eccentric. Mitford modeled her characters on her own famously unconventional family. We are introduced to the Radletts through the eyes of their cousin Fanny, who stays with them at Alconleigh, their Gloucestershire estate. Uncle Matthew is the blustering patriarch, known to hunt his children when foxes are scarce; Aunt Sadie is the vague but doting mother; and the seven Radlett children, despite the delights of their unusual childhood, are recklessly eager to grow up. The first of three novels featuring these characters, The Pursuit of Love follows the travails of Linda, the most beautiful and wayward Radlett daughter, who falls first for a stuffy Tory politician, then an ardent Communist, and finally a French duke named Fabrice

The novel immediately invites the reader in with this opening paragraph. I knew right away that I wanted to dwell in the word magic offered by a relaxed, yet highly thoughtful writer.

THERE is a photograph in existence of Aunt Sadie and her six children sitting round the tea-table at Alconleigh. The table is situated, as it was, is now, and ever shall be, in the hall, in front of a huge open fire of logs. Over the chimney-piece plainly visible in the photograph hangs an entrenching tool, with which, in 1915, Uncle Matthew had whacked to death eight Germans one by one as they crawled out of a dug-out. It is still covered with blood and hairs, an object of fascination to us as children. In the photograph Aunt Sadie’s face, always beautiful, appears strangely round, her hair strangely fluffy, and her clothes strangely dowdy, but it is unmistakably she who sits there with Robin, in oceans of lace, lolling on her knee. She seems uncertain what to do with his head, and the presence of Nanny waiting to take him away is felt though not seen. The other children, between Louisa’s eleven and Mart’s two years, sit round the table in party dresses or frilly bibs, holding cups or mugs according to age, all of them gazing at the camera with large eyes opened wide by the flash, and all looking as if butter would not melt in their round pursed-up mouths. There they are, held like flies, in the amber of that moment–click goes the camera and on goes life; the minutes, the days, the years, the decades, taking them further and further from that happiness and promise of youth, from the hopes Aunt Sadie must have had for them, and from the dreams they dreamed for themselves. I often think there is nothing quite so poignantly sad as old family groups.

A Delightful read. Endearing characters, colorful lives, with British roses abound. However, it is more than that. Nancy Mitford in this first novel, attempted to capture the sui generis oddities of Mitford family life and succeed beautifully in doing so.

In the introduction to the novel, the novelist, Zoë Heller, describes Nancy Mitford's work as too spiky and intelligent to qualify as an altogether cosy or comforting novel...

...The jokes are peerless, yes. I doubt I shall ever tire of reading Linda’s horrified account of housekeeping or Uncle Matthew’s outraged review of Romeo and Juliet or Davey’s devastating analysis of the Radlett family’s ‘museum-quality’ mineral collection. But beneath the brittle surface of this novel’s wit there is something infinitely more melancholy at work – something that is apt to snag you and pull you into its dark undertow when you are least expecting it. In contrast to some of the more obviously serious novels that impressed me in my youth, whose depths have since proved disappointingly plumbable, this unassuming bit of mid-century ‘chick lit’ has not only held up beautifully over time, but continues to yield riches

First published in 1942, it is not a fast read and can even become boring at times. Yet, it has that particular British charm of the classics to it that captures the reader in the end.

This is actually an amazing read, often hilariously funny, and other times sad. The prose kept on nurturing my soul and the issues covered in the book, particularly in the context of those times, were remarkable. The author had a refreshing way of telling this story.

[Doug · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5, rounded up.

Although I'd heard assorted sordid tales of the Mitford family through the ages, I only decided to read this because the character of Cedric in the sequel, Love in a Cold Climate, is based upon Stephen Tennant, whom I recently became enchanted by through reading the exhaustive biography of him, Serious Pleasures: The Life of Stephen Tennant. Although it was perhaps NOT necessary to read this introductory volume about the Radlett family, I found it deliciously witty in that droll way at which only the English seem to excel.

Indeed, I find Nancy something of a 20th century Jane Austen, in that her concerns are all about how one finds love and makes a decent marriage in a rather odd family comprised primarily of females (6 daughters, one son). Nancy's family, upon whom most of the characters here are based, differs in that they are of the aristocracy, the idle rich, but that only seems to enhance the humour of their situation. Central character Linda, based on Nancy herself, is a terrific creation - half Lorilei Lee, half Marianne Dashwood - a rather dithering, but ultimately savvy femme.

My only minor quibbles are that sometimes the copious characters are hard to keep straight, and, especially in the latter sections, there are too many lines in untranslated French. And although the ending is entirely appropriate, it is rather downbeat, considering all the fun that has come before.

[Libros Prestados · Rating 4 out of 5]

Las personas que me recomendaron esta novela me conocían bien. Tiene ese punto de humor inglés, ligereza narrativa y personajes excéntricos que me encanta.

Sí, puede que a ratos sea un puntito demasiado cínico y el final no levante el ánimo, precisamente, pero ese final era previsible a partir de cierto punto en la historia y no consigue empañar las partes cómicas de la novela. Que tiene bastantes. Es como leer un libro donde sucedan las pequeñas escenas de humor de "Downton Abbey".

Es una novela ligera, ágil, divertida y es más que seguro que Nancy Mitford se basó no solo en la experiencia propia de ella y su familia, sino en la experiencia de su hermana Jessica, que fue a la Guerra Civil española (y que por tanto, está bastante bien documentada en ese sentido). Las Mitford tienen material para esta novela y otras 50 más.

Tal vez no sea para todo el mundo, que a algunas personas les parezca aburrida o que se toma con demasiada ligereza temas muy serios (el fascismo y la guerra, por ejemplo), pero es mi tipo de droga. Ideal para desatascarse en periodos donde no apetezca lecturas demasiado densas.

[Emma Angeline · Rating 4 out of 5]

I won’t lie this made me spiral a lot because of my fears not finding someone and ending up like Linda and going through multiple marriages and not finding the right person and being too romantic and feeling lost and like you don’t know what you’re doing with you’re life and oh no here I go again. The feeling of wartime waiting though resonates with me now during lockdown in a way it hadn’t before. I guess it’s kinda Godot in that way, waiting for the next good bit of our lives (God help me if I ever let that be defined by a man tho) so I’m interested to see if post-pandemic we’ll see more things along those lines, waiting to get on with our lives. Mitford is as always funny, deadpan and nothing if not a little shocking in how she chooses to fill us in on the details of her characters lives. I too, of course, want nothing more than to sunbath naked on the terrace of my lover’s Parisian apartment.

[Caro the Helmet Lady · Rating 4 out of 5]

First I thought it to be merely a sort of a literary trinket but it ended up being quite a bit more. Very enjoyable and humorous in the unique British way example of vintage chick lit, even if a bit superficial. I wonder if the series are on the same level of fun?

[Kim · Rating 4 out of 5]

I recall going through a bit of a Mitford sisters stage when I was a teenager, although I think that involved reading things about them rather than reading things by them. That said, I know that I read Love in a Cold Climate when I was about fifteen, although I remember absolutely nothing about the book. It was, therefore, a bit of a surprise to realise that this novel is the first in a trilogy of which Love in a Cold Climate is the second book.

This is the story of the intensely romantic Linda Radlett's "pursuit of love" in the 1920s and 1930s. Linda's story is narrated by her cousin, Fanny, a sensible young woman who's serial monogamist mother is known in the family as "The Bolter". The prose is witty, in an entertaining between-the-wars upper class English style. There are some genuine laugh-out-loud moments. But for all the humour, the story is in many ways extremely sad, dealing as it does with women who live outside accepted social mores. In addition, the fact that the novel contained an account of refugees from the Spanish Civil War in France took me by surprise.

It's quite clear that the novel has autobiographical elements. The eccentric Radletts are based on Mitford's even more eccentric family. And the great love of Linda's life - Fabrice Sauveterre - is based on Mitford's lover, Gaston Palewski. There are other characters based on real people: the delightful Lord Merlin, for example, is based on Lord Berners.

I was in absolutely the right mood to listen to the audiobook version of the book during the week. It's narrated by English actress Emilia Fox, who does a great job. Her accent for the French Fabrice was unconvincing - okay, terrible - but otherwise I enjoyed her interpretation of the characters.

This has renewed my interest in the Mitfords. Maybe it's time to re-read Love in a Cold Climate and then possibly a biography. It's not as if there's a dearth of material about Nancy Mitford and her sisters.

[Teresa · Rating 4 out of 5]

I loved this and thoroughly enjoyed reading it! Having recently read The Mitford Girls by Mary S Lovell and this encouraging me to read Nancy's work, you can see that it's based on family members. It's all about class really but done in such a fun way that makes it an easy read. There are some great characters, Davey being one of my favourites with his health worries which gave him enormous satisfaction and happiness.
I dropped a star because the time Linda spent in Paris was peppered with French sentences and quotes and I didn't understand any of it so it quite broke the flow of the story for me.
Then after all my enjoyment of it the ending was like a punch to the stomach. Stunned is an understatement.!
I intend carrying on with the other two books as soon as I can.

[Mery_B · Rating 3 out of 5]

3'5

Tengo tantísimas cosas que contarte que necesitamos pasar horas y horas en el cuarto de los Ísimos...

Linda no sólo era mi prima favorita sino también, en aquella época y durante muchos años, mi ser humano favorito.

[J. · Rating 4 out of 5]

I came to this because a) never read mitfords, b) love the whole daft-country-manor-in-the-thirties genre, c) mother of narrator here is real-life Lady Idina Sackville http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/... and, d) it was recommended.

Truth is that at first I didn't know if I could sit thru the cutely-brit + twee aspects of the girls interacting, but soon enough the wickedly funny emerged and I was completely on board.

(Uncle Matthew, lord of the manor, a colonel-blimp who gnashes his way thru a couple sets of dentures a year --- has set up an excercise called the 'Child Hunt' on the estate, to air the horses, run the dogs, and keep the children in line. They don't actually shoot at the game, which after all is the children, they just "run them to ground". Good show.)

Overall a simple coming-of-age story, but complete with manor-house, acreage, staff, stables, dreary weather, beastly, titled adults, and wildly inappropriate children. In short, what would become the central nervous system of a thousand screwball comedies, whether in books, movies or the imaginations of generations to come.

A hybrid-family narrative of Nancy Mitford, a disorganized rave through all that was 'proper' and 'done' by all the best people; a puncturing pin on the lookout for any or all sacred cows caught wandering the heaths or Grand Halls of jolly-old englishland.

What begins as a straightforward romp begins to wobble dangerously in the middle going, though, and we sense that the author has more than irreverent asides and witty retorts on her mind. As the merry chase begins to collide with agonizing realities, the collection of unrelated misadventures turns serious, and Life catches up with the pretty young things. (This shift is done nicely, and right at the moment where the onset of ennui has begun to consume the little dears..)

Wish that I could report that a weighty Part Two of this novel goes on to examine all that, but we are brought up short (and wanting more) by an abrupt end that leads toward the next act, Love In A Cold Climate.

This one sets the tone, though, and flies along at the speed of gossip, or growing up, or a wet afternoon out on the moor, giving the hounds some air whilst galloping after the heirs.