"It seemed ages ago that she was the centre of the set, courted, feted, bustling... She felt herself dead, a ghost returned, and her place already knew her no more"
At the age of twenty-one Ron is witty and assured, delighting in the glamour of her London set and resisting her role as the Squire's daughter. She is used to the adoration of men and, "busy in an existence that made deep feeling difficult," is so far untouched by it. Now the Squire is faced with the necessity of selling Carne, the ancestoral home which symbolises so much for him, yet means little to his children.
This acute, elegaic novel, first published in 1929, presents the fragmentation of upper-class life between the Wars. Whilst the older generation acknowledges change with pain and reluctance, Ron and her contemporaries are dismissive of the values their parents uphold. But Ron's bravado is as impermanent as the privilege of her class and her life will be changed when she falls in love...
Flora Macdonald Mayor was an English novelist and short story writer who published under the name F. M. Mayor.
Mayor's father, Joseph Bickersteth Mayor (1828-1916), was an Anglican clergyman and professor of classics and then of moral philosophy at King's College London; her mother, Alexandrina Jessie Grote (1830-1927),[1:] was niece of the utilitarian George Grote as well as the Anglican clergyman and Cambridge moral philosophy professor John Grote. Flora Mayor read history at Newnham College, Cambridge, before becoming an actress. She later turned to writing. In 1903 she became engaged to a young architect, Ernest Shepherd, who died in India of typhoid before Mayor was able to travel out to join him. She never married, and lived closely with her twin sister Alice MacDonald Mayor (1872-1961).
Mayor's first book was a collection of stories, Mrs Hammond's Children, published in 1902 under the pseudonym Mary Strafford. Her short novel, The Third Miss Symons, was published in 1913 with a preface by John Masefield.
Her best known novel is The Rector's Daughter (1924). She also wrote ghost stories, which were much admired by M.R. James. Correspondence and some literary papers are held at Trinity College, Cambridge.
Another Virago under my belt! The Squire's Daughter was a slow burn for me. The central figure, a complex and not altogether likable spoiled daughter of a wealthy family in decline during the 1920s, was expertly drawn -- so much so that I got irritated and offended by her antics and childishness throughout the book. Veronica ("Ron") was immature and bungled so many situations with her self-centeredness and spite -- but that was the point of the book. She did grow, mature, suffer, and lose. And by the last fourth of the book, my sympathies had developed and I had a hard time putting it down.
It is a novel of the period, and there are a handful of unnecessary mentions of "the little Jew" or "he was a Jew," etc., although not malicious, just unnecessary, considering not that many main characters even had their hair color mentioned. Americans take the worst beating, portrayed as an uncouth wolves snatching up family estates when times were tough for the landed gentry. I expect we deserved it... or maybe that's just an impression I've picked up from Downton Abbey. There is also some first-cousin romance, which always squicks me out, but I let it pass as an example of what the world was like before genetics was truly understood.
One tiny instance of self-correction by an old aunt gave me the biggest laugh of the book. She casually complains at how hard it is to keep servants, then backpedals and corrects her choice of terminology to "domestic staff." Ha! Some things never change.
This is evidently Mayor's second-best novel according to the Introduction, which raves about the The Rector's Daughter, which preceded this title. If it ever pops up for sale on Abe Books, where I've been scooping up these fine green paperbacks, I'll probably grab it. I really appreciated her characterization skills; there were many characters I liked, and several that I didn't (including Ron), all for good reason -- excellent writing.