LAST GREAT READS FOR JUNE, 2013
Long live the King, by Fay Weldon
This is the second volume
of Ms Weldon’s ‘Love and Inheritance’ trilogy, following ‘Habits of the House’
(see review below) and once again, the reader is in for a treat as they follow
the fortunes of the aristocratic Dilberne family, recently rejuvenated
financially by the arranged marriage between son and heir to the Earldom,
Arthur, and Minnie, a very rich but ‘low-born’ young Chicago heiress.
The old queen has recently
died and all of London is agog at the arrangements for the impending coronation
of Edward VII, formerly Bertie, Prince of Wales, the gambler and profligate now
a Monarch determined to prove to his nation and government that he can rule
with wisdom, power and dignity: his
ministers and courtiers are eager to assist him in that regard, but the pomp
and ceremony demanded by him are making big dents in the public purse and any
objections are met with the assertion that the Empire ‘expects a good show’, so
a good show must be arranged.
Isabel, Countess of
Dilberne expects to make a good show of her family and is gratified to know
that she and her rich daughter-in-law Minnie will walk behind Queen Alexandra
in the Abbey procession – her social standing can rise no higher – until by a
series of misadventures, three extra seat invitations to the Abbey are lost,
first sent by her to the Earl’s feuding, hateful younger brother Edwin, a
parson in Somerset, then irretrievable when the rectory is burnt to the ground a couple of days later. Even worse, she and her husband are expected
to take into the family fold the only survivor of the conflagration, Adela, 15
year old daughter of Edwin, an act of charity too hard for the Earl who flatly
refuses to have contact with anyone
connected with Edwin. Fortunately or
not, Adela disappears and is thought to have committed suicide, causing her
reluctant relatives to heave sighs of pity and relief: they no longer feel an obligation through
blood – no matter how odious – to be responsible for her: they can devote their considerable energies
to Coronation etiquette, costumes and who is permitted by rank to wear more
inches of ermine than others – and who will be sitting where, and next to whom,
because the vexed question of the missing invitations has still not been
answered.
Ms Weldon enjoys herself
thoroughly – as does the reader - guiding her characters through the perilous
waters of English society high and low and there is no more shrewd observer of
the double standards that prevailed at the beginning of the twentieth century (as
illustrated so ably in ‘Habits of the House’), and no writer who could
intersperse her fictional characters with the real-life luminaries of the time
more successfully.
Ms Weldon writes in
elegant prose of the great new ideas of the thinkers and literary titans of the day: George Bernard Shaw, H.G. Wells, Arthur
Balfour, Ford Madox Ford, and that lone, formidable female Beatrice Webb,
champion of women’s rights, creating such sparkling dialogue between them and
their enormously wealthy society patrons that the reader is utterly convinced
that Ms Weldon was actually present whilst great plans were hatched.
This is a
vastly entertaining trilogy: I was sorry
to come to the end of both books and as before, am looking forward to reading
the next episode – and sad that it will be the last. Ms Weldon doesn’t always hit the jackpot with
me, but with this charming series, all the bells are ringing! Highly recommended.
Habits of the House, by Fay Weldon reviewed March, 2013
Fay Weldon needs no
introduction: not only is she a literary
household name, but she also gained fame in the British advertising world
before she started her writing career for coining the unforgettable phrase on
Billboards: ‘Go to Work on an Egg.’ What a woman!
‘Habits of the House’, we
are told, is the first book of a trilogy – which is a good thing, for this is a
most charming story, with characters that any reader would love to meet
again; the only problem being that Ms
Weldon’s novel bears a great resemblance to the ubiquitous ‘Downton Abbey’, and
unkind critics could say that she was perhaps trying to ride that most
successful bandwagon: after all, imitation is the most sincere form
of flattery but that said, Ms Weldon still manages, in spite of many
similarities, to produce a different slant on manners and mores – and the
hypocrisies - of life upstairs and
downstairs at the turn of the 19th century.
The Earl of Dilberne has
reached a financial crisis: because of
various unwise investments, not to mention trying to keep up with the gambling
habits of the Prince of Wales, he has run through his own fortune as well as
the enormous dowry his wife, Lady Isobel, brought into their marriage: the time has come for drastic action. There is nothing else for it but to marry off
Viscount Arthur, their playboy son to someone with a LOT of money. And at the close of the season, there are not
many young heiresses to choose from – except Minnie O’Brien, recently arrived
from America with her distressingly vulgar mother, openly shopping for A
Title.
Arthur keeps a mistress,
whom, he learns in due course (to his
horror), used to service his father. He
is amenable to marrying to save the family bacon (his tailor bill is ENORMOUS –
one wishes that they would stop sending so many reminders for payment!), but he
still requires, in fact expects, that his blushing bride will be a virgin. His contempt and disdain are absolute when he
discovers that Minnie has A Past, and an unsavoury one at that. The fact that he keeps a woman for his
pleasure is not, to him, in any way a double standard: that is what gentlemen do. Ladies are not afforded the same freedom.
Add to the mix the private
lives of the people who look after and service the needs of the upper
crust: Grace the ladies maid, Reginald
the footman, Mr and Mrs Neville, the
butler and cook; they all know a lot
more about their employers than one could ever dream, and Eric Baum, the Earl’s
lawyer, a Jew, laments to himself as he swears revenge – after too many slights
– ‘the Israelites may be God’s children, but God is an Englishman.’
Well said, Ms Weldon: bring on Book Two!
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