Harriet Devine's Blog

The Great Fortune by Olivia Manning

Back in 1987 I watched with pleasure a BBC TV series called The Fortunes of War. It starred Kenneth Branagh and Emma Thompson, who met during the filming and got married afterwards. I'd never read the books it was based on, so when I was offered a NetGalley version of the first novel in what became a 6-part series I was intrigued enough to download a copy. The series is actually two trilogies, The Balkan Trilogy and the Levant Trilogy, and follows the fortunes of a Communist English University lecturer Guy Pringle and his wife Harriet. At the beginning of this first book, it is 1939, and they are newly married. They travel to Rumania where Guy has accepted a job teaching English Literature at a British Council educational institute in Bucharest. 

Told from Harriet's point of view, the novel combines an account of her difficulties in adjusting to this new life in a strange country, to the threat of a German invasion, and, above all to the happy-go-lucky attitude of her new husband, who is delighted to surround himself with numerous hangers-on. One of these is the English-educated White Russian Prince Yakimov, who uses his rather tarnished charm to sponge endlessly off the rest of the expat community. Harriet is appalled when Guy offers to let him stay in their spare room, but as usual his wishes prevail and Harriet has to put up with it. She also has to put up with Sophie, an attractive young Rumanian girl who pursues Guy relentlessly - she's particularly disturbed when she discovers that Sophie had suggested to Guy that he could marry her so that she could get a British passport. 

It's very hard at first for Harriet to find her role in this strange expat community, but she gradually makes friends with some of Guy's colleagues and his friends in the diplomatic service. She finally makes a good woman friend of her own, the beautiful Bella, an English woman with a Rumanian husband. 

The last part of the novel recounts the events surrounding a production of Troilus and Cressida, which Guy decides to stage for the English community and his students. Harriet thinks it's a dreadful idea, but agrees to take the role of Cressida. However soon after rehearsals start, Guy announces that he has replaced her - with Sophie, of course - and Harriet is demoted to the designer. Everyone throws themselves in with amazing enthusiasm - Yakimov, in particular, shows real star quality - and Harriet is amazed and pleased when the one evening performance is a huge success.

Of course all this is taking place as the German army makes inroads in Europe - at first everyone is very optimistic, but the atmosphere changes at the news comes of the annexation of Paris. The British are anxious as it seems likely that they will not be able to stay in Rumania, and indeed the next novels in the trilogy will show Guy and Harriet moving around Eastern Europe, and then, in the Levant trilogy, the Middle East. The historical background makes this an interesting book to read for anyone wanting to know more about the politics of WW2.

Evidently all this is more or less autobiographical, as Manning herself did indeed marry a Communist English Literature lecturer and had what sounds to me a thoroughly unsatisfactory marriage, travelling round all the places that appear in the novels. I couldn't warm to Guy at all, and wished Harriet would stand up to him a bit more (though she does try, without success). She loves him in spite of it all, which I found a bit sad.

The novel is newly reprinted by Cornerstone, out today, 30 July. I'm not sure if they are going to follow up with the rest of the series. Meanwhile you can watch the whole thing on YouTube - well worth it. Here's a link to Episode One.

Broken Harbour by Tana French

I was very late in the day in discovering the novels of Tana French. I'd tried her first novel, In the Woods, some years ago and for some reason didn't take to it. Then, less than a year ago, I read her standalone novel The Wych Elm, and was totally blown away. Since then I've devoured five of her 'Dublin Murder Squad' novels and am just embarking on the sixth and (so far) final one of the series, though for some reason I haven't reviewed any of them till now.  

I actually listened to Broken Harbour - all 22 hours and 40 minutes of it - on Audible, and it took me about six weeks to get to the end. It took that long because I normally listen in the car, and especially at the start of the lockdown I was hardly driving at all, so I was listening in 15 minute bursts at bedtime. But I didn't mind this one bit, perhaps rather counter-intuitively, because I was enjoying it so much that I didn't want it to end.

If you're not familiar with the series, one of its USPs is that the lead detective in each novel has appeared in a minor role in the previous one. In this case the narrator is Michael 'Scorcher' Kennedy, the Murder Squad's star detective, who we first met in the previous novel, Faithful Place. Here he is teamed up with a young rookie, Richie Curran. The two of them are called out to a shocking murder scene on an estate outside Dublin. Two young children have been smothered in their beds, their father has been stabbed to death and their mother is fighting for her life.. At first the father, Pat Spain, seems the obvious suspect, but then Scorcher's suspicions shift to a young man who is very quickly taken into custody. Scorcher is convinced of his guilt, but Richie has grave doubts. 

So yes, a police procedural. But Broken Harbour is so much more than that. For a start, there's the setting. The Spain's house is situated on an estate named Brianstown: built on the site of a holiday resort called Broken Harbour, when the Spain's bought, it was advertised in the brochure as the ideal location for young families, but the developers' money ran out and the Spain's house sits in the middle of what has become a ghost town, miles from town and the shops. And then Pat lost his job. So - published in 2012, the novel evokes the very real problems faced in Ireland when the massive bubble known as the Celtic Tiger finally burst, bankrupting developers and causing a disastrous drop in the economy.

Then there's the mystery of the condition of the Spain's house. It's only a few years old, but there are huge holes in the walls of the living room and bedrooms, and an inexplicable number of baby monitors dotted round the house and even in the loft. What on earth do these mean? The solution is late in coming, and has a surprisingly important relevance to the solution of the case.

And, as well as having to solve this profoundly puzzling case, Scorcher is having to deal with his young sister Dina, who suffers from serious mental health issues. Always distressed and unstable, Dina has been pushed further over the edge by the fact that Scorcher is having to spend time in what was once Broken Harbour. Why? Because when the Kennedys were children, they used to spend their summer holidays in a caravan there - and one summer their troubled mother walked into the sea and drowned herself. Dina believes that her brother will be badly affected by the associations of the place, something Scorcher strenuously (perhaps too strenuously) denies.

Also fascinating, and beautifully observed, is the relationship between Scorcher and Rickie. At first Scorcher is very happy with his new young partner, and their very different interview techniques seem like a perfect blend to get the desired result in some challenging circumstances: Rickie is gentle and treats the interviewees with what seems like great understanding, while Scorcher goes in for the kill, often very roughly. But these differences gradually drive a wedge between them and eventually the relationship is terminally threatened by a revelation which obviously I can't discuss here. I will say, though, that it raises interesting questions about the ethics of policing.

Then, of course, as in any mystery story, there's the question of who the real perpetrator is. The novel is so beautifully constructed that the reader's sympathy keeps shifting between alternative suspects. I was rooting like mad for one of them to be innocent, but there were times when this seemed to be incredibly unlikely. And then there was the final revelation...

Finally, there was the question of Scorcher's own mental health. I obviously can't really talk about this here, but believe me, there are revelations at the end which explain a great deal, and make you question how reliable a narrator Scorcher really is.

Tana French's writing is superb - I haven't quoted anything here, but her use of language and her perception of peoples' inner workings have caused her novels to be considered as literary fiction. I've just discovered that she's publishing a new novel in the autumn, another standalone. There's an interview about it here. I can't wait.

 

 

Girl Reading

This is 'Girl Reading in a Salon' by the Italian painter Giovanni Boldini (1842-1931). Apparently, 'According to a 1933 article in Time magazine, he was known as the "Master of Swish" because of his flowing style of painting'. Lots of swish on show here. 

Woman with Cat

This is 'Lady with Cat' by the amazing Japanese artist Hokusai (1760-1849). Thanks to Dark Puss for sending this. 

Bonus: If you've got a few minutes to waste and want to laugh, here's a link to a series of people recreating famous paintings. Brilliant.

 

Cat with Book

I had an email the other day from someone asking the name of the artist of this famous painting, which he had found on my blog from 2013. I found out that he is called Rudi Hurzlmeier (German, born 1952). I try not to repost paintings but I thought this one deserved a re-run.

Hamnet by Maggie O'Farrell

Grief fills the room up of my absent child,
Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form;          

So wrote Shakespeare either just before or just after the death of his little son Hamnet in 1596. Just before would have been a bit spooky, perhaps, but we'll never know. In any case, this is not something that Maggie O'Farrell refers to in her novel, which is based around Hamnet's death at the age of eleven.

For the second time in as many weeks, I've read a novel based on real people, who happen to be the two most globally celebrated writers in the English language, as well as being particular favourites of mine. Jane Austen and her sister Cassandra came first, and I didn't have all that much luck with that one. Would I do better with William Shakespeare and his wife Anne Hathaway? The short answer is yes. 

O'Farrell imagines the circumstances that led up to Hamnet's  death, and the way it affected his family, in particular his mother, who we know as Anne Hathaway, but who is referred to here by the name her father gave in his will, Agnes. William Shakespeare is never mentioned by name in this book. He's there, very much so in the first part of the novel, but only referred to as 'the glove maker's son', 'the Latin tutor', 'the husband', 'the father'. To refuse to name one character and change the name of another is an effective way of distancing the reader from their preconceived ideas. 

O'Farrell takes the known facts, which are notoriously thin on the ground, and builds a wonderfully absorbing and convincing story around them. The cause of Hamnet's death is not known, but it's perfectly possible that he died of the plague, which had hit Stratford at that time. Here, it is his twin sister Judith who falls ill - she's already a delicate child and unlikely to survive. So her brother, a fine strong boy, actually lies in bed next to her, willing the infection to pass from her to him.Which of course it does. 

Naturally, then, the physical presence of the boy disappears from the novel fairly early on. But it is the effect his death has on his mother that is the subject of what follows. The reader knows Agnes well by this time, as she first appears as a young woman, living with her father and stepmother in the countryside outside Stratford (though the town itself is never named). Strong and independent, she avoids the farmhouse as much as possible, preferring to spend her time gathering herbs or hawking with her own kestrel. Then she meets the young man who has been employed as a Latin tutor to her young half-brothers. He is the first person to truly appreciate her for what she is: 'extraordinary to be so close to a creature so emphatically from another element, from wind or sky or perhaps even myth', he thinks. One thing leads to another, and soon Agnes is pregnant. Before much time has passed, a wedding is arranged and soon she is living in Henley Street with her new husband. 

Her in-laws grudgingly accept her, but find her hard to understand. Her knowledge of herbs is much appreciated, but Agnes also has the ability to understand peoples' deepest motives and thought processes, and also to predict future events. She knows her young husband will never be happy with the life his parents want for him, following his father into the glove trade, so when he gets the opportunity to travel to London to help sell his father's gloves, she encourages him to go. She realises that he will find there whatever his true calling in life is to be, even if it means he will no longer be living with his family.

When Judith falls ill, word is sent to London asking her father to return. But by the time he gets the message and manages to travel home, Hamnet has died. Agnes is soon left alone to deal with her grief while her husband returns to his mysterious life in London. She suffers all the agonies any bereaved mother will go through, but her pain is exacerbated by the fact that her ability to predict future events had deserted her in the case of Hamnet's death. And she feels resentful because her husband is apparently untouched by the same grief that has almost paralysed her. It's several years before she comes to understand that he has found his own way of expressing it.

Despite dealing with such an upsetting subject, this is a surprisingly comforting book. Who has not wondered how Shakespeare's wife felt, left on her own when her husband carved out his brilliant career? How did she feel about the women he undoubtedly slept with when he was away? ('It's as if her mother needs London, and all he does there, to rub off before she can accept him back', thinks Judith). Was she happy in the new grand house he had built for her? Why did he leave her his 'second best bed' in his will? And, of course, did she ever see one of his plays? All these questions find an answer here. And, in the final analysis, it seems that despite the separation, the doubts and the pain, this is a relationship strong enough to endure.

Besides being superbly and seamlessly researched - the sights, sounds and smells of the time and place are wonderfully vivid - this novel is a thing of great beauty for the quality of its prose and its superb, deeply moving depiction of parental grief. I'm very glad to have read it.

 

 

 

Another Cat

'Cat,1966' by the Japanese artist Rinjirō Hasegawa (1904-1988)

Info below from the site where I found it:

Apparently it took 6 years to complete this painting.
The artist did not paint the subject unless he was actually looking at the target….

In “Memories of Tallow” by Jirojiro, he wrote that the cat takes this pose and sleeps like this for only about 9 minutes on only a few days in mid-September each year. It seems to depend on the temperature and cat’s feeling. Therefore, “I have to wait until September next year to continue the painting.” He was so keen to show the beauty of the cat’s [sic] that he forgot to paint the whiskers. He added whiskers on one side, but while waiting for the next year, Taro seems to have died from old age.

 

Mr Fortune's Maggot by Sylvia Townsend Warner

Its Sylvia Townsend Warner Week at a gallimaufry. It's only two years since I discovered STW but on the strength of what I've read of her so far I have no hesitation in saying she's become one of my all time favourite authors. I've reviewed everything I've read of hers and I'll put some links below. Meanwhile here's my review of Mr Fortune's Maggot.

Maggot? No, the title doesn't refer to an unpleasant insect feeding on dead bodies, but to an archaic sense of the word: according to the OED, 'a whimsical, eccentric, strange, or perverse notion or idea'. But what exactly was Mr Fortune's maggot? There's more than one possibility in this totally charming novel, first published in 1927. 

The Reverend Timothy Fortune is a missionary. He wasn't always one - he had worked in a bank until an inheritance enabled him to study for the church, and after he was ordained he had decided to set off for the Pacific island of St Fabien. But after ten years there, craving for even more solitude, he told the Archdeacon that he would like to go to the remote island of Fanua, only accessible by canoe. The Archdeacon was dubious:

'I must warn you, Fortune, you are not likely to make many converts in Fanua'.

'What, are they cannibals?'

'No, no! But they are like children, always singing and dancing, and of course immoral'.

Mr Fortune had set off for the island full of optimism. The inhabitants seemed delighted to see him, and built him a hut in which he was able to place his harmonium, his sewing machine and his oil lamp. Apart from these, 'he wished to live as the natives did'.

When everything was completed he gave each of the islanders a gingerbread-nut and made a little formal speech, thanking them for their gifts and their assistance, and going on to explain his reasons for coming to Fanua. He had heard, he said, with pleasure what a happy people they were, and he had come to dwell with them and teach them how they might be as happy in another life as they were in this.

The islanders received his speech in silence broken only by crunching. Their expressions were those of people struck into awe by some surprising novelty: Mr Fortune wondered if he were that novelty, or Huntley and Palmers.

The Archdeacon's warning had proved only too true. After three years on the island, Mr Fortune had made only one convert. This happened quite soon after his arrival. He had just finished his morning prayers when he noticed that he had been joined by a naked brown boy, who was kneeling beside him, and appeared to be grateful to receive the sign of the cross which Mr Fortune made on his forehead. The boy, whose name was Lueli, has evidently come to stay. And for three happy years, so he does. He clearly worships Mr Fortune in his innocent, childlike way, and Mr Fortune quickly grows to love him in return.He teaches Lueli about Christianity, or attempts to, makes him clothes which he doesn't wear, finally accepts Lueli's offer to massage his back with coconut oil, watches the child grow into a young man. Lueli at one point produces a wooden idol, which shocks Mr Fortune, but he tells the boy to take it away, and assumes he has seen the last of it.Life goes on smoothly and contentedly - until it doesn't.

One evening Mr Fortune goes out for a walk. This is something he often does, but on this particular evening he takes a different, unaccustomed route. He is surprised to see that Lueli has obviously been this way, picking flowers -and then he suffers a terrible shock. In a glade he sees plate full of fruit, a garland of flowers,and behind them something 'dreadfully familiar'. 'And trampling on the garland he stood glaring a Lueli's idol, which looked back at him with flowers behind its ears'. Agonised and shocked, he snatches it up and returns to his hut to reprimand the boy, but all of a sudden the whole ground begins to shake, and Mr Fortune realises they are in the midst of an earthquake.

The earthquake goes on all night, and afterwards Lueli seems uncharacteristically sad and subdued, When the two of them return to the hut to inspect the damage, they find the hut and all its contents have been completely destroyed by a fire caused by Mr Fortune's broken oil lamp. The boy starts searching frantically through the rubble. Ar first Mr Fortune is puzzled, then the truth dawns. '"Is it your god you were looking for? Is he gone?"'

'My poor Lueli! Is that it? ... Is it so dreadful? Yes, I know it must be, I know, I know.I would do anything to comfort you, but I cannot think how, I can only tell you how I pity you with my whole heart. I do, indeed I do. Believe me, though I told you to burn your god, yet at this moment, were it possible for me, I think I would even give it to you again'.

Nothing, however, will comfort Lueli. He retreats into a state of silent misery, refusing to speak or eat. Mr Fortune feels powerless. He attempts to pray, with little result. He looks around him, realising that everything that has happened is simply a part of nature, completely inevitable.

Still he looked around him. But he was not looking for anything now, nor did he need to raise his eyes to heaven or close them before any presence unseen. The God who had walked with him on the island was gone.....Mr Fortune no longer believed in a God.

This is not yet the end of the novel - I could go on, but you really need to read it yourself to see what happens. I read a Kindle edition that has a preface written by STW in 1978. It gives a fascinating insight into how she came to write the novel, which describes how it landed with her almost fully formed in an extremely vivid dream - well worth reading this too as it gives a fascinating insight into her processes of composition.

So yes, this is yet another wonderful novel by STW. It's warm, witty, frequently surprising. Yes there are obvious parallels between Lueli's and Mr Fortune's loss of their gods, but STW is far too subtle and complex a writer to drive this home. Just read it for it's charm and humour and wisdom.

Here are my previous reviews of STW's work:

Swans on an Autumn River (short stories)

Lolly Willowes

Of Cats and Elfins

Kingdoms of Elfin