A good many of my fellow bloggers have written about this 1946 novel by Marghanita Laski, and made it sound so interesting that I was eager to read it. As the photo (taken from the Persephone catalogue) indicates, this is a novel about wartime. I don't know about you, but I have often wondered how I would have coped if my husband went off to war and I was left alone in England -- this actually happened to my mother, and she struggled on but I know she missed my father terribly. As the novel begins, Deborah and her husband Graham are in bed together on the night before he leaves for the war. Naturally the talk has turned to fidelity:
"Listen, darling", he said, "I'm not going to promise you I'll be physically faithful to you, because I don't want to make you any promise I may not be able to keep. God alone knows how long I may be stuck in Mid-East, and its no good saying I can do without a woman for three or four years, because I can't. But I'll promise you this, I'll never let myself fall in love with anyone else, and I'll never sleep with anyone who could possibly fill your place in my life."....This means I'll have to be pretty damn careful, he said to himself, but aloud he said, "Darling, will you promise me the same?"
Naturally Deborah solemnly swears she will always be faithful to Graham, "however long you're away", a promise she is to break many many times over in the course of the novel. Although she tries at first to make a life for herself and her small son Timmy in the country, she is soon bored and frustrated. Not a natural mother, she happily hands Timmy over to her housekeeper and starts work in London, returning only at weekends. Before long she has drifted into the first of what will be many affairs, though initially she and her lover manage to convince themselves they are just comforting each other for the absence of their spouses. But over time Deborah gets increasingly addicted to the thrill of the sexual chase and to the many perks associated with being a mistress -- the pretty hats, the elegant clothes, the jewellery, the parties, the expensive meals. The affairs get shorter, and any pretence of emotional involvement goes out of the window. As the novel draws to a close, the war has ended and Deborah is anticipating with some dread the return of boring Graham and her own enforced resumption of life as a country housewife and mother.
It's well known that To Bed With Grand Music was published by Laski under a pseudonym, apparently because she based Deborah on a woman friend who might have recognised herself in the leading character. In any case it was almost certainly not because the novel was shocking. In fact although government wartime propaganda was pleased to present women as keeping the home fires burning, and sitting beside them knitting socks and waiting for the return of the soldier, there's little doubt that many married women revelled in their newfound freedom and in the ready availability of spare men passing through London. And, though Deborah seems to be having a good time, the novel is actually something of a cautionary tale. It is quite hard to imagine what will happen to her after Graham's return, and pretty questionable whether she will be able to drag herself back from the slippery but intoxicating slope she has found herself on. But it is hard not feel some sympathy for her -- after all, her behaviour is only what Graham himself admitted he would be indulging in while he was away.
So the novel raises interesting questions about sexuality, about feminism, and about double standards. It's a most fascinating, lively and thought-provoking read, and highy recommended.
And here is the Persephone endpaper, taken from a Jacqmar silk scarf of the period.