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The Happy Prisoner
It is the end of WW II and the household of Mrs. North, a well-to-do widow with a country cottage, is very busy. War circumstances brought both of her daughters loud but good-hearted tomboy, Violet, and highly-strung and over sensitive Heather with her two small children. Mrs. North is also taking care of her young niece, Evelyn, a lively child who loves to play on the local farm and has a great passion for animals. But at the center of all this is Oliver, Mrs. North's only son who lost his leg during the war service abroad.Recovering from his injuries, bed-ridden Oliver has nothing better to do but observe the busy lives of the people around him. Treated as a hero and a confidant by all the women in his family, Oliver begins to enjoy his new role as a self-proclaimed counselor. Due to his advice, Violet, an independent spinster, unexpectedly accepts the marriage proposal from a local farmer. Her wedding is a success and Violet finds a new happiness in her marriage, but soon Oliver's meddling in his family affairs goes too far. Will his risky instructions save or ruin Heather's marriage, which is at the brink of crisis, when her husband comes back from Australia after a few years of separation? Will Oliver learn to accept his new circumstances? Will he finally face to the reality and start to rebuild his own life?In this compendium plot, Monica Dickens, with her typical attention to detail, humor and talent for creating vivid characters, explores complicated life stories of the close-knit family and their friends at the end of the war. The Happy Prisoner was first published in 1946.
320 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1946
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202 people want to read
About the author
Monica Dickens
92 books130 followersFrom the publisher: MONICA DICKENS, born in 1915, was brought up in London and was the great-granddaughter of Charles Dickens. Her mother's German origins and her Catholicism gave her the detached eye of an outsider; at St Paul's Girls' School she was under occupied and rebellious. After drama school she was a debutante before working as a cook. One Pair of Hands (1939), her first book, described life in the kitchens of Kensington. It was the first of a group of semi autobiographies of which Mariana (1940), technically a novel, was one. 'My aim is to entertain rather than instruct,' she wrote. 'I want readers to recognise life in my books.' In 1951 Monica Dickens married a US naval officer, Roy Stratton, moved to America and adopted two daughters. An extremely popular writer, she involved herself in, and wrote about, good causes such as the Samaritans. After her husband died she lived in a cottage in rural Berkshire, dying there in 1992.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 33 reviews
June 6, 2016
'The Happy Prisoner' is a pleasant, slice-of-life story about a WW2 soldier who has lost a leg and is recovering at home. Very much character driven, the novel is just as much about the family and friends who move about him as it is about Oliver himself. I found it engaging and enjoyable, and even though I had to read this in small snippets over a week or two, I always enjoyed the thought of picking it up again.
I'll definitely be trying this author's other works.
I'll definitely be trying this author's other works.
July 19, 2023
Oliver North is recovering at home after being injured during the war. He is confined to his bed, and through his eyes, we get to watch the family dramas. His two sisters are also living at home, as well as a young cousin, who is horse mad. The sisters, Heather and Violet, are complete opposites. Heather has taken to religion whilst waiting for her husband to return from the war; Violet is the robust country-woman, working on the neighbours farm. The two often clash, but quite enjoy a good quarrel. Elizabeth is Oliver's nurse, efficient and self contained, but there are obviously hidden depths.
Overall, a very satisfying book with its heroes and villains. Interesting plot devise, watching the dramas unfolding from the bedside view. As the novel progresses, Oliver starts to interfere more in the events taking place. I really enjoyed the characteristics in the novel, and I think I will enjoy returning to the family on a re-read.
Overall, a very satisfying book with its heroes and villains. Interesting plot devise, watching the dramas unfolding from the bedside view. As the novel progresses, Oliver starts to interfere more in the events taking place. I really enjoyed the characteristics in the novel, and I think I will enjoy returning to the family on a re-read.
December 6, 2016
Monica Dickens died in 1992 at the age of 77. She is probably not as much read as she once was, but she still has her admirers, and her work was praised by such heavyweights as J.B. Priestley, Rebecca West, A.S. Byatt and John Betjeman. The Happy Prisoner, published in 1946, was one of her most successful books; it’s far from forgotten, and has now been made available for Kindle.
It begins on an autumn night at the end of the Second World War. A moth flies in through the ground-floor window of an old manor house in Shropshire. Trapped, it struggles with the light. It does not know that it is being closely observed by a man who lies in a bed in the window alcove, keenly aware of the moth’s texture, its colours, and of its struggles. “This moth, which had seemed such a nuisance... was really a show-piece, a miracle of skilled craftsmanship prodigally squandered on a single night’s existence. ...If this pattern had been on a shawl or tapestry, it would have taken months or years of painful, eye-straining toil.”
It is, we gather, not something the man in the bed would have noticed before. But Oliver’s leg has been blown off at Arnhem, and a shell splinter has damaged his heart; he is immobile in this bed, in its alcove, a little raised above floor level, comfortable, at the heart of his family. No-one really knows when he will be well enough to leave the bed. He has time to observe the behaviour not only of moths, but of humans. And he does so in a way that he has, it seems, never quite done before. Over the course of Monica Dickens’s quite long book (it’s over 100,000 words), the reader watches a family through the Oliver’s eyes, and sees a broad and beautifully-observed range of human behaviour. Better still, as Oliver’s powers of observation grow, our understanding of these human interactions grows along with his own. At the same time, the long shadow of the war slowly recedes as the family members reunite, retrench and begin their lives anew.
There is plenty of human material. Oliver’s American-born mother, constantly attentive, hides her fears for her dreadfully wounded son as best she can. Oliver’s youngest sister, Heather, awaits her husband, repatriated from a Japanese prisoner-of-war camp. In the meantime she converts to Catholicism, a move that leaves her family somewhat bemused, as indeed it would have done in 1945 (Vatican II was years in the future, and the distance between Anglicans and Catholics was far greater than it is now). When her husband does return, her feelings about her marriage force her up against her own character; and, in a well-drawn episode, Oliver learns not to meddle in things he does not understand. Meanwhile Violet, the tall, bony, asexual, horsey elder sister, discombobulates the household by suddenly marrying “beneath” her, to a local farmer.
The love interest, albeit tentative, is provided by Elizabeth, Oliver’s nurse – self-possessed, attractive, massively competent and glacially detached. One senses all along that there is something about her that is hidden from Oliver and thus from the reader, and late in the book this turns out to be true. How, and why, and how it ends, for her and for Oliver, brings this humane and gentle book to a very satisfactory conclusion.
It isn’t perfect. Oliver’s situation is a very obvious plot device (although, oddly, he seems to know that himself). And the book is very much of its time; Dickens was from a well-to-do family and it shows. Everything’s seen from an upper-middle-class perspective. (Also evident are the attitudes of 1946; a character is said to have “worked like a black” – not a phrase that sits well today.) But Dickens may have understood this; because Oliver’s mother is American, she is shown to be a little detached from the class system of the time, and it’s interesting that Dickens later married an American and spent much of her later life in the USA. In fact, Dickens’s other books show an awareness of this aspect of British life that isn’t always evident here.
In any case, all books need to be seen as their products of their time. This book is a beautifully drawn contemporary picture of the way an English family coped with the aftermath of war. Its impact on British civilians in no way compared with that in (say) Italy or Poland, and it is easy to forget that, for many people, it was still real enough. Oliver’s family have got off lightly, but they are still left with a daughter whose marriage is shaken and a son who will never completely recover from his injuries.
In the end, however, what strikes you about The Happy Prisoner is its wonderful character development; you can hear Oliver’s family speak, each in their own way, and by the end of the book you know them all well – and none of them has acted out of character or struck a false note. Monica Dickens’s great-granddad Charles knew a thing or two about character development too, and I think he’d have been quite proud.
It begins on an autumn night at the end of the Second World War. A moth flies in through the ground-floor window of an old manor house in Shropshire. Trapped, it struggles with the light. It does not know that it is being closely observed by a man who lies in a bed in the window alcove, keenly aware of the moth’s texture, its colours, and of its struggles. “This moth, which had seemed such a nuisance... was really a show-piece, a miracle of skilled craftsmanship prodigally squandered on a single night’s existence. ...If this pattern had been on a shawl or tapestry, it would have taken months or years of painful, eye-straining toil.”
It is, we gather, not something the man in the bed would have noticed before. But Oliver’s leg has been blown off at Arnhem, and a shell splinter has damaged his heart; he is immobile in this bed, in its alcove, a little raised above floor level, comfortable, at the heart of his family. No-one really knows when he will be well enough to leave the bed. He has time to observe the behaviour not only of moths, but of humans. And he does so in a way that he has, it seems, never quite done before. Over the course of Monica Dickens’s quite long book (it’s over 100,000 words), the reader watches a family through the Oliver’s eyes, and sees a broad and beautifully-observed range of human behaviour. Better still, as Oliver’s powers of observation grow, our understanding of these human interactions grows along with his own. At the same time, the long shadow of the war slowly recedes as the family members reunite, retrench and begin their lives anew.
There is plenty of human material. Oliver’s American-born mother, constantly attentive, hides her fears for her dreadfully wounded son as best she can. Oliver’s youngest sister, Heather, awaits her husband, repatriated from a Japanese prisoner-of-war camp. In the meantime she converts to Catholicism, a move that leaves her family somewhat bemused, as indeed it would have done in 1945 (Vatican II was years in the future, and the distance between Anglicans and Catholics was far greater than it is now). When her husband does return, her feelings about her marriage force her up against her own character; and, in a well-drawn episode, Oliver learns not to meddle in things he does not understand. Meanwhile Violet, the tall, bony, asexual, horsey elder sister, discombobulates the household by suddenly marrying “beneath” her, to a local farmer.
The love interest, albeit tentative, is provided by Elizabeth, Oliver’s nurse – self-possessed, attractive, massively competent and glacially detached. One senses all along that there is something about her that is hidden from Oliver and thus from the reader, and late in the book this turns out to be true. How, and why, and how it ends, for her and for Oliver, brings this humane and gentle book to a very satisfactory conclusion.
It isn’t perfect. Oliver’s situation is a very obvious plot device (although, oddly, he seems to know that himself). And the book is very much of its time; Dickens was from a well-to-do family and it shows. Everything’s seen from an upper-middle-class perspective. (Also evident are the attitudes of 1946; a character is said to have “worked like a black” – not a phrase that sits well today.) But Dickens may have understood this; because Oliver’s mother is American, she is shown to be a little detached from the class system of the time, and it’s interesting that Dickens later married an American and spent much of her later life in the USA. In fact, Dickens’s other books show an awareness of this aspect of British life that isn’t always evident here.
In any case, all books need to be seen as their products of their time. This book is a beautifully drawn contemporary picture of the way an English family coped with the aftermath of war. Its impact on British civilians in no way compared with that in (say) Italy or Poland, and it is easy to forget that, for many people, it was still real enough. Oliver’s family have got off lightly, but they are still left with a daughter whose marriage is shaken and a son who will never completely recover from his injuries.
In the end, however, what strikes you about The Happy Prisoner is its wonderful character development; you can hear Oliver’s family speak, each in their own way, and by the end of the book you know them all well – and none of them has acted out of character or struck a false note. Monica Dickens’s great-granddad Charles knew a thing or two about character development too, and I think he’d have been quite proud.
July 18, 2022
Story of a bed-ridden British World War II veteran recovering in his childhood home. Not what is sounds like. Very funny due to a collection of eccentric friends and family members.
June 18, 2016
3+ stars. I enjoyed this look at a family dealing with life's problems, large and small, just after World War II. It is told through the voice of Oliver North, a veteran who has come home from war without one leg and a weak heart. His room becomes the center of the home for everyone else. He gets to see their lives and give advice from the viewpoint of one who does not really participate in it. I liked that Oliver was not the self-pitying type. He had times of depression that could last for days, but he also enjoyed days filled with family, friends, the time to read, think and ponder, and he found value in that. He was the calm center in a normal home that was filled with a worrying mother, sisters who bickered, and their children, with all the chaos that brings. I liked that even though the family had their differences and squabbles, there was great love underneath it all. I will look for more of Monica Dickens work to read.
July 5, 2023
One of my all time comfort reads and favourite of Monica Dickens . I can’t get the cover of my book to be accepted but this is better than a blank , I guess . I’ve read this about 12 times since I first discovered it at about age 15 .
Charming , very funny and quite moving .
Totally recommended .
Charming , very funny and quite moving .
Totally recommended .
June 10, 2013
Oliver is an adorable character, and his family are absorbing. A properly good read.
January 1, 2022
The Happy Prisoner made me a Happy Reader - it's been a double pleasure and a poignant one, as I've been reading our late Mum's yellow, well-thumbed hardback edition. It was evidently bought on holiday up north, inscribed on the flyleaf, in her handwriting: Monica J Oke, Southport, 30/7/49 - the day before her 22nd birthday. This Devon girl would have been a trainee nurse at The London Hospital at the time, and later worked at the Princess Elizabeth Orthopaedic in Exeter.
The Happy Prisoner was one of her favourite books - and now I know why. She would have identified so much with the nurse-and-patient core of the story. It's not some soppy Mills & Boon effort, though, but a bit of a family saga, albeit centred mainly on the convalescent bed of a wartime amputee and the diverse cast of characters dancing attendance on him.
There's not much of a plot, but characterisation, as you'd expect of a Dickens, is so well observed, and believable. There's dry humour, the odd moment of farce, an insight into the life of an invalid, and a harsh spotlight on stepmothers. There are dotty in-laws teetering on a Wodehousian edge, horse-mad schoolgirls and jolly RAF types, and some heartfelt scenes of family dynamics. I can so picture this as a black-and-white post-war film. I cast it in my head.
Better still, I felt my dear Mum with me in spirit, enjoying every page.
The Happy Prisoner was one of her favourite books - and now I know why. She would have identified so much with the nurse-and-patient core of the story. It's not some soppy Mills & Boon effort, though, but a bit of a family saga, albeit centred mainly on the convalescent bed of a wartime amputee and the diverse cast of characters dancing attendance on him.
There's not much of a plot, but characterisation, as you'd expect of a Dickens, is so well observed, and believable. There's dry humour, the odd moment of farce, an insight into the life of an invalid, and a harsh spotlight on stepmothers. There are dotty in-laws teetering on a Wodehousian edge, horse-mad schoolgirls and jolly RAF types, and some heartfelt scenes of family dynamics. I can so picture this as a black-and-white post-war film. I cast it in my head.
Better still, I felt my dear Mum with me in spirit, enjoying every page.
December 13, 2016
Setting: Enlish country life. Bedridden veteran, revalidating from leg amputation
positive: A pleasent read. Nice descriptions of characters
negative: slow read. Vi's wedding takes too much pages. The long expected romance takes a bit too long to develop, and when it's there, the story suddenly ends.
positive: A pleasent read. Nice descriptions of characters
negative: slow read. Vi's wedding takes too much pages. The long expected romance takes a bit too long to develop, and when it's there, the story suddenly ends.
September 6, 2014
Nowhere near as interesting as 'One pair of hands' or 'One pair of feet' this was a look at upper middle class life just after WW2 - quite historical. Dickens writes in a very easy way with good characterisation, so that although the plot was a little weak it was nonetheless charming.
January 28, 2025
English family novel set immediately post-World War II. The distractingly named Oliver North has come home to his eccentric family's country house, with an amputated leg and a heart injury that requires him to keep very still and calm. From his bed, he observes and mildly meddles in the affairs of his sisters and cousin, while growing closer to his proper and standoffish hired nurse.
I enjoyed this somewhat less than the first Monica Dickens I read, Mariana, but it still has ample charms, despite a soggy middle (and some awful casual period racism and references to the efficacy of beating your wife -- lovely). But I liked how well-observed and how different all the women who populate the book are, being particularly charmed by Oliver's mother, and the ending is very satisfying.
I enjoyed this somewhat less than the first Monica Dickens I read, Mariana, but it still has ample charms, despite a soggy middle (and some awful casual period racism and references to the efficacy of beating your wife -- lovely). But I liked how well-observed and how different all the women who populate the book are, being particularly charmed by Oliver's mother, and the ending is very satisfying.
May 7, 2018
I recently went into the Oxfam bookshop in Welwyn Garden City to stock up on an armful of second-hand books and this Penguin edition (marked up at 3/6 ie three shillings and sixpence, or just over 30p) was part of the haul. And how thrilled was I when I began to read it! Because ten years ago on holiday in Australia I had previously bought a second-hand copy of this very same novel, got halfway through reading it and left it under the bed in a little motel in Coff's Harbour. I couldn't remember the name of the novel or even who the author was and it has haunted me all these years! Serendipity! I might use this in a plot, somewhere.
Anyway, lovely gentle read of a way of life long lost, all country house charm with teas on the lawn and dripping toast, horses and dogs, hand-knitted Fair Isle cardigans, gardeners and maids, starchy nurses and wicked stepmothers with long red fingernails. Best read on a winter's afternoon with a pile of hot buttered toast to hand. (Or in a nice motel in Australia!!)
Anyway, lovely gentle read of a way of life long lost, all country house charm with teas on the lawn and dripping toast, horses and dogs, hand-knitted Fair Isle cardigans, gardeners and maids, starchy nurses and wicked stepmothers with long red fingernails. Best read on a winter's afternoon with a pile of hot buttered toast to hand. (Or in a nice motel in Australia!!)
January 9, 2022
‘The Happy Prisoner’ by Monica Dickens
A slow and gentle read, very ‘British’, set in the late 1940s, depicting the lives of several generations of a wealthy family living in a large house, with all the servants and other accoutrement that made for stylish living at the tie. Lying on his daybed in the living room downstairs is the son, Oliver, a war amputee with a serious heart condition from a bullet wound, slowly recovering. His bedside becomes the focus of personal revelations regarding the various people in the house: an unhappy cousin, a lonely nurse, a kleptomaniac (but very charming) mother-in-law and an incorrigibly nosy neighbour, all artfully created characters facing their own unhappinesses. Slowly the story unfolds: a wedding, a near-divorce, the prospect of a romance. Always humorous, often touching, the book is skilfully written and offers a very different reading experience.
A slow and gentle read, very ‘British’, set in the late 1940s, depicting the lives of several generations of a wealthy family living in a large house, with all the servants and other accoutrement that made for stylish living at the tie. Lying on his daybed in the living room downstairs is the son, Oliver, a war amputee with a serious heart condition from a bullet wound, slowly recovering. His bedside becomes the focus of personal revelations regarding the various people in the house: an unhappy cousin, a lonely nurse, a kleptomaniac (but very charming) mother-in-law and an incorrigibly nosy neighbour, all artfully created characters facing their own unhappinesses. Slowly the story unfolds: a wedding, a near-divorce, the prospect of a romance. Always humorous, often touching, the book is skilfully written and offers a very different reading experience.
December 12, 2022
I was frustrated by this title and having felt disappointed in "Joy and Josephine", I might be off Ms. Dickens for a bit.
You know what the ending is going to be when you start it and that is fine by me but she takes an awfully long road to get there. The tomboy sister in the tale was my favorite and there are some very amusing scenes and some truly touching ones. However, it doesn't hold together and I found myself skimming to get to the end.
You know what the ending is going to be when you start it and that is fine by me but she takes an awfully long road to get there. The tomboy sister in the tale was my favorite and there are some very amusing scenes and some truly touching ones. However, it doesn't hold together and I found myself skimming to get to the end.
July 13, 2016
Maybe a 3.75. I was delighted to find that Bloomsbury has released a number of ebooks of out-of- print books from the mid 20th century and to be able to buy this one on sale. The author cleverly used the voice of a bed-ridden WWII soldier to describe his colorful family and eventually to become the go-to advisor for all of their problems.
October 2, 2013
An enjoyable story set at the end of WW2 about the recovery of a wounded vet. He is the prisoner and his prison is his bed.
There were a few issues with typos that kept me from giving it 4 stars. He is at home and the characters in his family are humorous.
There were a few issues with typos that kept me from giving it 4 stars. He is at home and the characters in his family are humorous.
January 4, 2016
I love this book. I read it first as a teenager and, over twenty years later, I've enjoyed re-reading it. I got different things from it this time (which is no surprise). But some things were the same, like the humour in the story.
July 6, 2018
I really loved "The Winds of Heaven," but this one was nothing special. Nevertheless, the character of Lady Sandys stood out as exceptional. Her character made the book worth reading. Of unfortunate note were the hundreds of typographical errors in this Kindle edition which made me very annoyed.
December 22, 2019
Il racconto terminò ed ebbero termine anche le relative impressioni, emozioni o sensazioni che non riesco a tenere a bada, con le sue relative spiegazioni. Per tutto il tempo la voce della sua autrice si era levata più alta di quella del giovane Oliver, con un mucchio di riflessioni dense di vita, morte, sensi di colpa.
Ma l’aspetto degli oggetti esterni, l’importanza che gli si attribuisce, sembrò subissero una notevole crescita a mano a mano che procedevo nella sua narrazione. La nostra coscienza spesso ci induce ad essere protagonisti di qualche crudele scherzetto, diabolicamente studiato, irruenti e imprevedibili, che irremovibili decretano una sentenza a cui si è costretti ad avvalersi. Ho letto Il prigioniero felice immaginando la Vita come un diavoletto dispettoso e monello ridacchiare rumorosamente, mostrando cattiveria e poco senso pratico. La luce che ogni tanto penetrava da uno squarcio di stoffa, dietro una finestra, riluceva di vita; impregnava non solo ciò che vi era attorno, ma persino i cuori di chi era vicino. Tutto ciò che mi circondava, lo stesso Oliver, esprimeva un terribile senso di mancanza, insoddisfazione, rassegnazione che in un attimo hanno rovesciato ogni cosa, quando la guerra ha prostato Oliver ad uno stato di quasi totale infermità, o piuttosto nella sostanza delle cose. Mutano le cose ma non la loro essenza.
Quando conclusi Il prigioniero felice, il ricordo delle tenere parole dickensiane si spinsero negli angoli più remoti della mia mente, ripetendosi come l’eco di un tempo di cieca e suprema insensatezza. La Dickens, questa volta donna, pronipote di Charles Dickens, compì l’atto di scrivere un romanzo apparentemente semplice, insulso, qualcosa la cui fiamma riverbera ancora fra le pareti bianche della mia camera. Sono state attizzate le braci, con una certa violenza interiore, di una condizione umana che sin dalle prime pagine mi apparve chiara. Il volto di questo giovane uomo era esattamente come quello dell’altro Oliver, quello de Le avventure di Oliver Twist, come avvizzito nell’intensità dello sfrigolio di un cuore che batte regolarmente.
Quando si legge questo tipo di romanzi non si ragiona con coerenza: ci si lascia andare e coinvolgere da emozioni forti, istantanee di vita comune ma sgregolate da eventi o emozioni forti, e da ciò penso derivi il significato dei suoi movimenti netti. Fui sorpresa da questo elemento, poiché la magia celata in queste pagine sta nel desiderio di mancata libertà dei personaggi, il loro stare nel mondo, una cella invisibile da cui non vi è alcuna via di salvezza, quasi quanto la confessione stessa dei loro “peccati”.
Queste, in soldoni, le tematiche di un libro le cui prime pagine sono pagine cariche di dramma, tragicità che sedimenta nell’animo, e che induce il lettore ad elaborare nozioni o idee che incantano nella loro sottigliezza, che li ho percepiti solo come elementi di una vita ostile che sradicano la rassegnazione. L’uomo, infatti, dinanzi al processo crudele della vita non può far nient’altro che rassegnarsi, aggrappandosi ai ricordi e attribuendo ad essi una certa importanza. Senza ricordi, infatti, non sarebbe nient’altro che massa di carne prive di anima. Ed attanagliata dagli eventi del passato, scivolando addosso come la lente di un microscopio sugli oggetti.
Come una spettatrice attenta, mi sono mescolata a gruppi di persone che procedevano strascicando i piedi, con la mano nel petto, e la consapevolezza delle bellezza a cui avrei dovuto assistere. Il cammino impervio di un ragazzo e della sua storia, presumibilmente nella direzione che avrebbe portato dritto dritto a fare breccia nel mio cuore, fu un chiaro riferimento alla crudeltà della vita, e al modo per come l’uomo si aggrappa a sogni o speranze per contrastarla e viverla meglio. In lontananza, l’eco di drammi lunghi, ponderati, vaghi, che sedimentarono nel mio cuore, sprofondando nelle pieghe del tempo.
Quando ci si inerpica nei meandri ostili, ma intensi di certe produzioni letterarie nell'immediato si provano moti di compassione o affetto. Incapace di dare un significato, una giustificazione, per quello che le sue pagine celano così bene: segreti irraggiungibili del cuore umano. Il prigioniero felice non ne è un eccezione, e costruito secondo i piani emotivi più incredibili e convincenti, esplica una certa forza, una bonaria scaltrezza, un amabile, soave apparente totalità di vero uomo, con ritorsioni dell'animo che alla fine avranno una loro giustizia.
Perla della letteratura vittoriana ed inglese che rientra nel sentimentalismo della produzione dickensiana, in cui ci si trascina nella crudeltà, nell'indecenza per riassumere un fatto realmente crudelecche condanna il protagonista a vivere come un anima dannate e alla deriva.
Ma l’aspetto degli oggetti esterni, l’importanza che gli si attribuisce, sembrò subissero una notevole crescita a mano a mano che procedevo nella sua narrazione. La nostra coscienza spesso ci induce ad essere protagonisti di qualche crudele scherzetto, diabolicamente studiato, irruenti e imprevedibili, che irremovibili decretano una sentenza a cui si è costretti ad avvalersi. Ho letto Il prigioniero felice immaginando la Vita come un diavoletto dispettoso e monello ridacchiare rumorosamente, mostrando cattiveria e poco senso pratico. La luce che ogni tanto penetrava da uno squarcio di stoffa, dietro una finestra, riluceva di vita; impregnava non solo ciò che vi era attorno, ma persino i cuori di chi era vicino. Tutto ciò che mi circondava, lo stesso Oliver, esprimeva un terribile senso di mancanza, insoddisfazione, rassegnazione che in un attimo hanno rovesciato ogni cosa, quando la guerra ha prostato Oliver ad uno stato di quasi totale infermità, o piuttosto nella sostanza delle cose. Mutano le cose ma non la loro essenza.
Quando conclusi Il prigioniero felice, il ricordo delle tenere parole dickensiane si spinsero negli angoli più remoti della mia mente, ripetendosi come l’eco di un tempo di cieca e suprema insensatezza. La Dickens, questa volta donna, pronipote di Charles Dickens, compì l’atto di scrivere un romanzo apparentemente semplice, insulso, qualcosa la cui fiamma riverbera ancora fra le pareti bianche della mia camera. Sono state attizzate le braci, con una certa violenza interiore, di una condizione umana che sin dalle prime pagine mi apparve chiara. Il volto di questo giovane uomo era esattamente come quello dell’altro Oliver, quello de Le avventure di Oliver Twist, come avvizzito nell’intensità dello sfrigolio di un cuore che batte regolarmente.
Quando si legge questo tipo di romanzi non si ragiona con coerenza: ci si lascia andare e coinvolgere da emozioni forti, istantanee di vita comune ma sgregolate da eventi o emozioni forti, e da ciò penso derivi il significato dei suoi movimenti netti. Fui sorpresa da questo elemento, poiché la magia celata in queste pagine sta nel desiderio di mancata libertà dei personaggi, il loro stare nel mondo, una cella invisibile da cui non vi è alcuna via di salvezza, quasi quanto la confessione stessa dei loro “peccati”.
Queste, in soldoni, le tematiche di un libro le cui prime pagine sono pagine cariche di dramma, tragicità che sedimenta nell’animo, e che induce il lettore ad elaborare nozioni o idee che incantano nella loro sottigliezza, che li ho percepiti solo come elementi di una vita ostile che sradicano la rassegnazione. L’uomo, infatti, dinanzi al processo crudele della vita non può far nient’altro che rassegnarsi, aggrappandosi ai ricordi e attribuendo ad essi una certa importanza. Senza ricordi, infatti, non sarebbe nient’altro che massa di carne prive di anima. Ed attanagliata dagli eventi del passato, scivolando addosso come la lente di un microscopio sugli oggetti.
Come una spettatrice attenta, mi sono mescolata a gruppi di persone che procedevano strascicando i piedi, con la mano nel petto, e la consapevolezza delle bellezza a cui avrei dovuto assistere. Il cammino impervio di un ragazzo e della sua storia, presumibilmente nella direzione che avrebbe portato dritto dritto a fare breccia nel mio cuore, fu un chiaro riferimento alla crudeltà della vita, e al modo per come l’uomo si aggrappa a sogni o speranze per contrastarla e viverla meglio. In lontananza, l’eco di drammi lunghi, ponderati, vaghi, che sedimentarono nel mio cuore, sprofondando nelle pieghe del tempo.
Quando ci si inerpica nei meandri ostili, ma intensi di certe produzioni letterarie nell'immediato si provano moti di compassione o affetto. Incapace di dare un significato, una giustificazione, per quello che le sue pagine celano così bene: segreti irraggiungibili del cuore umano. Il prigioniero felice non ne è un eccezione, e costruito secondo i piani emotivi più incredibili e convincenti, esplica una certa forza, una bonaria scaltrezza, un amabile, soave apparente totalità di vero uomo, con ritorsioni dell'animo che alla fine avranno una loro giustizia.
Perla della letteratura vittoriana ed inglese che rientra nel sentimentalismo della produzione dickensiana, in cui ci si trascina nella crudeltà, nell'indecenza per riassumere un fatto realmente crudelecche condanna il protagonista a vivere come un anima dannate e alla deriva.
February 3, 2023
I've read quite of bit of Charles Dickens so felt it high time to give his great-granddaughter's fiction a try. This excellent post-war novel, published in 1946, really hit bulls-eye for me. Protagonists must be people whose head spaces we feel happy in for the duration, and her main character, Oliver North, is a legend. It's a fun insight into his frustrating year, as he lies flat on his back in bed, recovering from a war injury.
Oliver, in his late twenties, is hit by a shell which results in the loss of one leg and also grazes his heart. His indulgent mother manages to get him discharged from the army base hospital to convalesce at home. Now he must either figure out new ways to channel his pent-up energy or go crazy. Having time to ponder his family members more closely than ever before, Oliver decides he can surely manage his sisters' love lives for them better than they can. His off-the-cuff pep talks, sometimes verging on snarky, make me grin.
Sloppy, perpetual tomboy Violet (my favourite character apart from her brother) is considering a sudden marriage proposal and dramatic, moody Heather is dreading the imminent arrival home of her hubby, freed POW John. Oliver's eye-rolling insight into other people's foibles plus some natural tact makes him a sort of unofficial relationship oracle, although he doesn't always get it right.
Only the attractive young hired nurse, Elizabeth, remains detached, keeping everyone at arm's length. Ollie would love to figure out why she's such an enigma, and what she thinks of him, but there are hints that Elizabeth has her own private reason for keeping quiet. Is she really as aloof as she seems?
I really appreciate Oliver's periodic brushes with the black dogs of depression and despair, and how he finds they always pass when he waits them out. He has a wry way of putting it to the test.
'He would try himself out by thinking of all the most irritating things he knew... if he could contemplate all these things with equanimity, he would look at the day before him to see whether it seemed full of possibilities or a dragging cortege of ticking moments. Then he would think about breakfast. If he could pass all these tests, he would pick up his shaving mirror and see how his face adapted itself to a smile, and then, if it were not too early, reach for the bell.'
And being a fellow bookworm myself, this passage warms my heart too.
'He went back, distrustfully at first and then with growing enthusiasm, to authors to whom he'd thought himself permanently antagonised at school. He discovered that Shakespeare, Dickens, Thackeray and Stevenson could transfigure the dreary waste between lunch and tea in which everyone but he seemed able to sleep.' (Notice the subtle shout-out from author Monica Dickens to her great-granddad there.)
Being set in the forties, there was, of course, no TV in Oliver's room to divert him. That was still about a decade in the future. Oliver really gets proactive about his own, untapped creativity rather than numbing it with the Box. Without even knowing about the modern world, Monica Dickens is a fantastic advocate for reducing our screen time. Because if it'd been our era, I suspect Oliver wouldn't have come out the other side of his crisis with a stimulated imagination and fresh way of thinking. He would've been more inclined to fritter away his days watching mindless sitcoms and scrolling social media.
Overall, it's an ideal mood-lifting book for any time, but I'd especially recommend it to anyone who has to stay in bed for whatever reason. Our plights are bound to be less dire than Oliver's so his attitude is encouraging. It's the most uplifting tale about an invalid I've come across yet; not a bit sentimental or preachy. And there's something very cool about the way Oliver comes across as the most 'together' sibling, even though he's recently lost a limb.
What's more, because it's a vintage 20th century British read, we get the benefit of such details as bay windows, watercress sandwiches, Eccles cakes, buttered Marie biscuits and enamel cups with nursery rhymes. I read this in January but already anticipate it'll be one of my top picks for the year.
Oliver, in his late twenties, is hit by a shell which results in the loss of one leg and also grazes his heart. His indulgent mother manages to get him discharged from the army base hospital to convalesce at home. Now he must either figure out new ways to channel his pent-up energy or go crazy. Having time to ponder his family members more closely than ever before, Oliver decides he can surely manage his sisters' love lives for them better than they can. His off-the-cuff pep talks, sometimes verging on snarky, make me grin.
Sloppy, perpetual tomboy Violet (my favourite character apart from her brother) is considering a sudden marriage proposal and dramatic, moody Heather is dreading the imminent arrival home of her hubby, freed POW John. Oliver's eye-rolling insight into other people's foibles plus some natural tact makes him a sort of unofficial relationship oracle, although he doesn't always get it right.
Only the attractive young hired nurse, Elizabeth, remains detached, keeping everyone at arm's length. Ollie would love to figure out why she's such an enigma, and what she thinks of him, but there are hints that Elizabeth has her own private reason for keeping quiet. Is she really as aloof as she seems?
I really appreciate Oliver's periodic brushes with the black dogs of depression and despair, and how he finds they always pass when he waits them out. He has a wry way of putting it to the test.
'He would try himself out by thinking of all the most irritating things he knew... if he could contemplate all these things with equanimity, he would look at the day before him to see whether it seemed full of possibilities or a dragging cortege of ticking moments. Then he would think about breakfast. If he could pass all these tests, he would pick up his shaving mirror and see how his face adapted itself to a smile, and then, if it were not too early, reach for the bell.'
And being a fellow bookworm myself, this passage warms my heart too.
'He went back, distrustfully at first and then with growing enthusiasm, to authors to whom he'd thought himself permanently antagonised at school. He discovered that Shakespeare, Dickens, Thackeray and Stevenson could transfigure the dreary waste between lunch and tea in which everyone but he seemed able to sleep.' (Notice the subtle shout-out from author Monica Dickens to her great-granddad there.)
Being set in the forties, there was, of course, no TV in Oliver's room to divert him. That was still about a decade in the future. Oliver really gets proactive about his own, untapped creativity rather than numbing it with the Box. Without even knowing about the modern world, Monica Dickens is a fantastic advocate for reducing our screen time. Because if it'd been our era, I suspect Oliver wouldn't have come out the other side of his crisis with a stimulated imagination and fresh way of thinking. He would've been more inclined to fritter away his days watching mindless sitcoms and scrolling social media.
Overall, it's an ideal mood-lifting book for any time, but I'd especially recommend it to anyone who has to stay in bed for whatever reason. Our plights are bound to be less dire than Oliver's so his attitude is encouraging. It's the most uplifting tale about an invalid I've come across yet; not a bit sentimental or preachy. And there's something very cool about the way Oliver comes across as the most 'together' sibling, even though he's recently lost a limb.
What's more, because it's a vintage 20th century British read, we get the benefit of such details as bay windows, watercress sandwiches, Eccles cakes, buttered Marie biscuits and enamel cups with nursery rhymes. I read this in January but already anticipate it'll be one of my top picks for the year.
July 15, 2025
Oliver North was seriously injured in the war, losing a leg and having some damage to his heart. He is now slowly recovering, looked after by his devoted mother. Also in the house are Oliver’s two sisters. His elder sister, Violet, is a caricature tomboy spinster who works on a local farm, we are constantly told how awkward and unattractive she is. His younger sister, Heather, is married with two small children and is awaiting the return of her husband John from Australia where he has been recovering from being a prisoner of the Japanese, meanwhile she is quite restless and uncertain of her feelings. There is also Mrs North’s little niece, Evelyn, who is crazy about horses and whose father is in America. And there is Elizabeth, the efficient enigmatic nurse engaged to look after Oliver.
Oliver struggles with his own and other people’s problems and it is mildly interesting but very slow moving. People frequently pop in to tell Oliver long stories about themselves. Violet gets a proposal of marriage and that’s hilarious of course because she is so unattractive - the build up to Violet’s wedding goes on for a very long time. My favourite character was John’s dotty mother, but unfortunately she departs well before the end.
Oliver struggles with his own and other people’s problems and it is mildly interesting but very slow moving. People frequently pop in to tell Oliver long stories about themselves. Violet gets a proposal of marriage and that’s hilarious of course because she is so unattractive - the build up to Violet’s wedding goes on for a very long time. My favourite character was John’s dotty mother, but unfortunately she departs well before the end.
September 3, 2025
This novel, written by Monica Dickens and published in 1949, is focused on Oliver North, who lies in bed at his family home in Shropshire recovering from war wounds. In his incapacitated state, the family uses him as a confidante and sounding board for the various challenges they are going through.
This novel has much to recommend it - most particularly, the cast of characters who are complex and interesting. I particularly loved Oliver's sister Violet, who I thought may be a gay character (but who opts into a traditional marriage) and who is a lot of fun. What drags the story down is Oliver himself. His recovery arc is not what it ought to be, and the romance with his nurse is unbelievable and feels very much tacked on.
This novel has much to recommend it - most particularly, the cast of characters who are complex and interesting. I particularly loved Oliver's sister Violet, who I thought may be a gay character (but who opts into a traditional marriage) and who is a lot of fun. What drags the story down is Oliver himself. His recovery arc is not what it ought to be, and the romance with his nurse is unbelievable and feels very much tacked on.
July 30, 2023
Although I started out skeptical, I adored this novel about Oliver North (no, not that Oliver North! )a WWII veteran recuperating from serious injuries at his childhood home. Stuck in bed while he convalesces, his room becomes the setting for all the family dramas- marital problems, disagreeing sisters, meddling neighbors and a young American cousin with an extremely unpleasant parent. It's quite funny with a ton of charm and lots of cool period details, though it treads lightly around the very real issues of post-war scarcity, economics, and the seriousness of the loss of a limb.
January 17, 2018
Niet mijn lievelingsboek van Monica Dickens. Hoofdpersoon Oliver ligt op bed en wordt verpleegd, omdat hij in de oorlog (WOII) zijn been verloren heeft. Om hem heen gebeurt van alles, en door zijn ogen zien we de ontwikkelingen van verschillende familieleden. Tja. Dickens kan goed schrijven, maar dat is in dit geval voor mij niet genoeg
January 5, 2021
Interesting to read something written many years ago about the 1930. Interesting to see different perspectives and I enjoy the social history
I have enjoyed all the books I heave read by Monica Dickens - though none for a few years until this at the suggesting if someone saying to would be good for lockdown
I have enjoyed all the books I heave read by Monica Dickens - though none for a few years until this at the suggesting if someone saying to would be good for lockdown
Read
August 11, 2023Didn't finish.
Everyone was so miserable and closeminded that I just couldn't stomach it. No one really had any hopes, dreams, or goals for anyone or anything outside their own selfish wants. Flipped through the rest and didn't catch any whiff of a change.
I'm not asking for Pollyanna(which I still like, btw.) But even Jo March wanted to be famous, instead of just entertained.
I just don't have the time or energy for it right now.
Everyone was so miserable and closeminded that I just couldn't stomach it. No one really had any hopes, dreams, or goals for anyone or anything outside their own selfish wants. Flipped through the rest and didn't catch any whiff of a change.
I'm not asking for Pollyanna(which I still like, btw.) But even Jo March wanted to be famous, instead of just entertained.
I just don't have the time or energy for it right now.
June 27, 2024
Sarò pure una romanticona, innamorata di tutto ciò che ha a che fare anche solo vagamente con Jane Austen. Ma questa riscrittura di "Emma" mi ha davvero sorpreso, regalandomi emozioni che i fan di Downton Abbey comprenderanno benissimo.
Troppo bello. Ho già voglia di rileggerlo.
Troppo bello. Ho già voglia di rileggerlo.
July 4, 2019
Not a lot of plot, but if you enjoy vivid and lively characters, this is a great read.
September 25, 2020
This book is beautifully written, gentle, funny. The characters are so well developed that I feel like I know them personally.
July 21, 2022
I've enjoyed all of Monica Dickens' earlier books and this one is my favourite. It tells the story of a family, where the son is wounded in the Second World War and his bedroom becomes the hub of the family.
It's funny, touching and a delightful read; the eldest sister Violet is a great character and her preparations for her wedding to a local farmer are hilarious.
It's light, enjoyable and I've read it many times.
It's funny, touching and a delightful read; the eldest sister Violet is a great character and her preparations for her wedding to a local farmer are hilarious.
It's light, enjoyable and I've read it many times.
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