I finally decided on reading "Fresh From the Country" by Miss Read. The introduction by Miss Read's daughter was interesting and it seemed that Anna's life had some resemblance to the author's. I was not sure if I would be taken but at the end I had thoroughly enjoyed this story and look forward to her other novels. It seemed that the teachers with a big class of 48 had more babysitting needs than teaching, though I see this through eyes of a layman. I could not help laughing each time the mention of infants being students, it must be a British thing.
Story in short- Country girl, Anna starts her teaching career in a town.
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Young Anna Lacey has spent most of her life on a farm in Essex. But her first teaching position carries her to an unattractive, newly constructed
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suburb where she has to adjust to cramped lodgings, a skinflint landlady, overcrowded classrooms, and eccentric colleagues (‘a rum lot’). She must also adapt some of her idealistic theories of teaching to the realities of her energetic, exuberant pupils.
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When Dean Street Press suggested reissuing Fresh from the Country, I was delighted. It doesn’t fall within either the Thrush Green or the Fairacre series, and tends to get overlooked.
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Anna’s spirits rose as she approached her home. The journey took over two hours from the new raw suburb where she was to take up her teaching appointment next September. She had travelled across the vast sprawling mass of London which sweltered in the throbbing heat and
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had felt the oppression of spirits which row upon row of streets always produced in her. As the streets gave way to leafy suburbs and then to the gentle flat country of her own neighbourhood, happiness returned. The wind blew refreshingly through the open window of the Green Line coach, fragrant with the smell of freshly-cut hay and the flowers of many a sunny meadow.
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And yet the place had depressed her. She remembered the string of new factories which she had passed on her way there that afternoon. The school was not unlike them at first sight, massive, immaculate, teeming with life and yet impersonal. She remembered the square red brick school which she herself had attended, its comfortable domestic outline shrouded in homely
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creeper. Here two hundred girls had worked and played and had thought themselves a large body of people. How would she fare with six hundred under one roof?
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Meanwhile all the joys of home and summer thronged about her. The whinny of her pony in the paddock lifted her spirits, and retracing her steps Anna made her way back to the home which, to her surprise, suddenly seemed doubly dear.
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Only in one respect did Florence Enderby fail. Although she hardly realised it herself and would have denied it strenuously
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if she had been told, the fact remained. Florence Enderby did not like children. She recognised that they were essential to her job. They were the raw material upon which her skill could work and upon whom new methods could be tried and results noted.
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They were her school, her children, the living evidence of her work and effort. Collectively she gloried in them. As individuals she found them tiresome.
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❌❌❌❌❌spoiler alert
I was wondering if it would be definitive that Tom and Anna would marry but it was basically implied. The love between them is there but not really seen except in their friendship and concern for each other. This is mostly a young teacher Anna having a culture shock from living in the country and teaching in a large town setting. I was not sure at first if I would enjoy this but it was interesting especially Anna's forthright thoughts and may times honest comments. I loved Joan and her easy going way at looking at life, I was glad when she was done with Maurice and hoping the best with her and Ted.
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This morning as she gazed down upon them arriving thick and fast in the playground, the feeling of pride was dominant. A school of nearly six hundred! she told herself triumphantly. She had done well. She had never thought, when she had started on her career almost thirty years before that such a headship would ever be hers!
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‘Watch that boy,’ murmured Miss Enderby, in an audible aside. ‘Broken home—brother
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brother in Borstal—enlarged tonsils—and some rather dreadful habits which the school psychiatrist says are compensatory, but I think are nasty and nothing more!’ Anna looked with fresh interest at Arnold and thought he looked far too innocent and apple-cheeked to have such a record. But, even as she looked, she saw a fleeting grimace distort his pink face expressing, in no uncertain terms, his scorn of Miss Enderby
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who was giving her final messages to the new teacher.
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“Is no one going to remember his manners?’ asked Miss Enderby, carefully grammatic. With a nervous start Anna hastened forward to the door, but was waved back by an undulation of her headmistress’s hand, the sapphire ring flashing in the light. Galvanised into action a dozen or more children leapt to their feet knocking over their chairs as they made an ugly rush
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to open the door. A freckled mite with two skinny red plaits was the first to hurl herself upon the handle and drag open the door. She was rewarded by a gracious smile. ‘Thank you, dear, thank you,’ said Miss Enderby and sailed majestically into the corridor. A faint sigh of relief rippled round the class as the door was closed behind her, chests deflated, backs slumped, and the forty-six tongues which had so far kept
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unnaturally silent began to wag cheerfully. Anna watched this degeneration with some dismay. For all the notice the class was taking of her she might have been non-existent. She remembered, with sudden relief, some advice given her at college to use in just such a situation.