Someone At A Distance by Dorothy Whipple

I had only intended to read two Persephones as part of the Persephone week run by Paperback Reader and the BFiles, but I enjoyed them so much that I picked up Someone At A Distance by Dorothy Whipple from the library.

I was wary of this writer because of Virago's vow to "never go beneath the Whipple line" but then I read a short story of hers "A Lovely Time " in the Autumn/Winter 2009/2010 Persephone biannually which broke my heart with it's unflinching honesty and vulnerable main protagonist and still makes me want to cry whenever I think of it.

I knew as soon as I started this book that I was going to enjoy it and so decided not to rush to finish it by the end of the week and instead to savour it. Impossible! The pages whirred between my hands like a flip-book.

For those who have read it (most Persephone converts), I shall not retread old ground and for those who haven't I do not want to give away too much of the plot. I actually skipped Nina Bawden's preface when I realised that she outlined the main plot points and read it last.

This is a very deeply felt, yet gentle book and is basically about the ephemeral nature of our life circumstances versus the enduring bonds of love. Some of the characters do things that are incredibly selfish, vindictive, craven even but Whipple presents each case in the same way, explaining the motives and feelings of each person in turn. She is a very moral writer, so these acts do not go unpunished, and this is perhaps why she lost her early popularity in the middle of the twentieth century.

It is perhaps also her readability, the 'easiness' of her novels, that began to make her less relevant in the era of angry young men and rebellious contraceptive-toting girls. I must admit that, although Someone At A Distance is very emotional and indeed desolating in parts, it is still a warm bath of a book with it's delightful descriptions of country gardens and quaint towns and the knowledge that all these characters with their inheritances, servants and people eager to help them out are going to be alright really.

This is a book which is a cosy 'cup of tea' read but is well-written enough to be more than just a guilty pleasure. Even the beautiful cover with a painting by Sir James Gunn is a joy. So, a perfect book really.

The Home-Maker by Dorothy Canfield Fisher

The Home-Maker of this novel is first of all, domestic machine and mother of three, Evangeline (Eva) Knapp, a fierce, grafter of a woman who rules her home with a rod of iron and keeps it not only clean and tidy but stylish, respectable and completely stifling. Her husband reflects to himself that she is "like a Titan forced to tend a miniature garden ."

By the middle of the novel it is Eva's husband, Lester Knapp, who is home-maker when he is unable to continue working at the town drapers and homeware emporium.

It is not really a spoiler to say that Eva takes on her husband's position as the family breadwinner by working in said store and taking the eye for detail and relentless energy that was suffocated by housework and childcare and applying it to business with great success.

Lester, on the other hand, who has always hated his job, settles down into domestic bliss with Saturday morning cooking-bees, stories and time to get to know the children who were hitherto little strangers to him.

I expected to finish this book all fired up with feminist outrage and it is depressing how little some things have changed. I'm ashamed to say that it still surprises me to see a man out by himself with a pram (why should I feel so proud of him, he should take his baby for a walk!) and although we now know such creatures exist, how many fully fledged house husbands do we know in 2010?

I did not feel this inequality to be the central message of the book, however, more an outside event that helped to shape the plot. At the centre of the book is the idea that to be happy, you cannot fight against your nature and must be allowed to be yourself. Eva is too exacting and impatient to spend all day long with a preschooler, however much she loves her youngest son Stephen and Lester is too dreamy and uninterested in material gain to be a competent accountant and "If honestly, that was the sort of nature he had, why rebel against it?"

This idea is exemplified by the Willings who own the store and are first Lester's and then Eva's employers. Both are very happy with their lot because they are allowed to work with their natures. Mr Willing loves business ("it fitted him! It was his work!")and is perfectly happy to put in a 36 hour shift and then go home and talk to his wife about the store. Mrs Willing is a happier homemaker than Eva and was glad to stay at home with pre-school aged children, but is still eager to exercise her brain through the writing of advertising copy for the business; something which she is very good at.

This idea of being able to be yourself is continued when Canfield looks at the characters of the children. Never have I read a book in which the motivations and desires of a child have been so thoroughly examined as those of Stephen, the troublesome 5 year old. He is treated to the same analysis and respect as the adult protagonists and shown to be just as much of a prisoner of circumstance as his mother and father.

The issues that are explored in this 1924 novel are still prevalent today. Women may go out to work more frequently but there is still the shadow of unequal pay and the fact that most women, working or not are still doing the majority of the housework. This is muddied by the growing feeling that some women still enjoy domestic tasks and would be happy to stay at home and keep house. The issue is not who does what, but who, man or woman , is being forced into a life which does not suit them, purely because of their sex?

Before reading this book, I wondered if the title was a snide aside, that I would find a militant feminist scream of rage, but that is not it. The character of 'Aunt' Mattie Farnham is a home-maker; not as competent as Eva, but infinitely happier in the role. It fits her. It is Mattie who recognizes that it fits Lester too. It would not fit Mr Willing, it did not suit Eva Knapp.

What this book cries out is that we must be allowed choice in life, to find the roles that suit our temperaments and talents. Money can buy choice, like in the case of Mrs Willing who can afford servants to take the edge off the drudgery of childcare, but it is the breaking down of prejudice and "complacent unquestioned generalisation" that is the real goal.

This is a wonderful book that made me laugh, cry, think and rage. It lightly leaps from the depths of great tragedy to the sunny joys of human interaction. My only complaint is that I am not too struck on the endpapers but I can find it in my heart to forgive that very slight flaw...

The Runaway by Elizabeth Anna Hart

The Runaway is a children's story which was first published in 1872 and was then re released in 1935 with a series of wood cut illustrations by the artist Gwen Raverat.

I had chosen The Runaway as my first Persephone mainly because of the beautiful pictures and on that front, I was not disappointed. There are 60 woodcuts interspersed with the text of this book and they range from tiny images of each character as he or she is introduced, larger full page illustrations or extensive two-page wide images which stretch above and below the text.

There is a particularly lovely one which shows Olga, the eponymous character in a tree which stretches its branches across two pages and Clarice, Olga's accomplice standing on a path below which fades into the distance.

Woodcut is an extremely unforgiving discipline; one cut out of place and you can ruin hours of work. Each cut that has been made in the wooden printing block avoids being inked up, so the artist is creating his or her lights and shades in reverse. The image itself must also be reversed. It requires incredible amounts of skill, concentration and physical stamina, as the tools are tiny and cramped, blistered fingers are inevitable. I point all this out only to make clear the incredible achievement of Gwen Raverat. This book is an artistic masterpiece.

She is capable of carving solid wooden furniture, draperies, faces, shadows and gossamer thin imaginary spirits with an equal amount of skill. The pictures not only support and illustrate the text, but also show scenes in the book that are only mentioned in retrospect (Olga being spotted on the roof by policemen, for example.)

The eagle-eyed reader may have noticed that I do not yet mention the story. This is because I was not very impressed. Apparently this work was a labour of love for Gwen R. as she had adored The Runaway as a child and pushed for it to be republished twice in her life time. I cannot see why, but then we all have beloved children's books that don't really stand up to much scrutiny (Hi Malory Towers!).

Olga, the runaway child is obviously supposed to delight the reader with her mischievous, devil-may-care ways but, quite frankly, I found her to be a complete arse and have never wanted to punch a fictional character in the face more keenly than when reading this book. Selfish, snobbish and completely ungrateful, Olga comes close to causing her supposedly dear friend and protector Clarice to have a nervous break down.

I was fond of Clarice. A painfully conscientious and lonely girl, she undertakes to keep Olga hidden from her father, servants and eventually policemen. She is wise and kind, anxious to be good and to protect the feelings of those she loves

"Olga opened her blue eyes wide, and stared about her. 'I don't know what you are talking about,' said she; 'it sounds like gibberish.'

' Never mind' said Clarice. 'We all speak gibberish to others, I think, when we say what we really feel'

'I feel very sleepy,' said Olga, 'but that is not gibberish is it?'

'No', said Clarice smiling, 'because I am getting sleepy too; when people feel alike they don't talk gibberish'"

There are some quite amusing moments in the book, like when Olga dresses up as a policeman and is outraged when Clarice derides her efforts and another occasion when Clarice worries to herself that Olga may actually be 'deficient' rather than just jolly and careless.

It is not a great book and I can see why the rather patronising overview of Elizabeth Anna Hart's works was put in as an after word rather than a fore word. At one point, the story looks like it is going to take an interesting turn which would make the character of Olga far more interesting and sympathetic, but it soon returns to its snobby and predictable path. It is an easy read, however, a book very much of its time and is eccentric and event-filled enough to carry you to the end.

At points, the friendship between the two girls seems like an intense love affair, with Olga teasing and flirting and pouting her way out of trouble with Clarice who takes the younger girl on her knee where Olga "began kissing her with dainty little kisses, as a bird might with it's beak peck sugar from her lips."

Olga's pouting lips and dainty white body are described again and again and Clarice is a slave to the younger girl's whims. "She (Clarice) thought of the money, and the jewels, and her heart sank within her, and she felt as if it must break... oh that she had never seen her! Oh that she had never listened to her!" At one point, Olga declares that she and Clarice will both go and live in an old cottage together "like those two old creatures in North Wales." where they will keep geraniums and "wear men's hats."

I was not sure if this aspect of the book was a heavily disguised reference to homosexuality. It is hard to find details about author Elizabeth Anna Hart's life despite her prolific output and she and her husband never had children. Homosexuality could not be openly discussed in the late 1800s but it has a pervasive yet subdued presence in the literature of the time. It is this, and the feminist moments, "It's girls that are kept under and kept down..." that most intrigued me about this book.

To sum up, this book is definitely worth buying for the gorgeous illustrations alone but the story, although original and lively, is not of the same quality.

This book was read as part of Persephone reading week, hosted by Paperback Reader and the B Files.

Life Does Not Get Much Better, It Would Be Churlish To Complain.

What a brilliant homecoming! As I opened the front door, I felt the delightful squidge of packages. The Iceland ash cloud must have affected the post as everything is late, but has all come at once.

First of all, Bright Star, the Jane Campion film about the love affair between John Keats and Fanny Brawne. I like films that are visually exciting and innovative and would take lush cinematography over pithy dialogue any day of the week. (Although both together is obviously preferable.) Everyone I know who has seen it describes it as 'a beautiful film' and I can't wait to watch it.

I also received series two of Homicide: Life on the Streets, one of the greatest American tv shows of the 90s. Pacy, funny, scary and visually inventive, it never disappoints.

The remaining packages were possibly the most exciting of all. I first heard about Persephone books a few years ago and was thrilled by their remit of re-publishing over looked books, written mainly by women; coupled with a commitment to good design. Each smooth, grey tome carries coloured inlay pages inspired by fabrics relevant to the content of the book.

I have perused their website countless times, read many articles and blog posts extolling their virtues and bought catalogues and tokens for their shop as Christmas and birthday presents. Yet I have never bought one for myself. Partly this was due to price, a £10 book seems a stretch when you are paying off loans and buying ridiculously priced driving lessons for what seems like YOUR ENTIRE LIFE (whoops, breathe) and partly due to the impossibility of choosing where to start.

Every time I read the catalogue (a great read in itself), I was torn. The Persephone reading week hosted by Paperback Reader and The B Files moved my hand, however.Finally I have chosen The Runaway and The Home-maker. I am particularly excited by the Runaway which contains exquisite wood-cut illustrations which dance in and out of the text, sometimes framing it, instead of just being restricted to staid, full pages.

I knew that the books were lovely to behold but did not realise how lovely until now. The grey covers have DUST COVERS and the books come with matching book marks. My squeal of joy when I realised this was similar to the noise I made when a chocolate bar fell out of our coal merchant's Christmas bill. (Thanks guys!)

I have a pile of lovely books and dvds, there is tea in the pot, soup bubbling on the hob, it's snowing outside and there's a fire to be lit. Bliss. It seems to be snowing and sunny at the same time too. AMAZING...