10% Report: 100 Years of Books

100 Years of Books

It’s taken me a very long time to get to this second report for my 100 Years of Books project.

That’s partly because I’ve read a couple of big books that were published before 1850 – The Count of Monte Cristo and Vanity Fair – and partly because I ‘ve been going back to authors – Margaret Kennedy, Anthony Trollope, Angela Thirkell – and I want 100 authors for my 100 years so each author only gets one appearance.

And it’s also because I began to have doubts about whether this was the right project. Because I feel differently about the two centuries I’ve brought together. The twentieth century is home and the nineteenth century is somewhere I love to visit, so I thought that maybe I should have two projects, one short term and one long term.

That thinking distracted me for a while, but in the end I decided I would stick to the original plan; to read the books I picked up naturally and to read the books that I didn’t pick up quite as naturally but really appreciated when I did.

I may struggle to fill some of the earlier years but …. I think I have to try.

So, my first report is here, and this is the second:

1866 – Griffith Gaunt by Charles Reade

“Charles Reade was once a very popular author; and, though his historical novel ‘The Cloister and the Hearth’ was his most acclaimed work, ‘Griffith Gaunt’ was his personal favourite. You might call it a sensation novel, and it is a sensation novel, but its much more than that. This is a book that grows from a melodrama, into a psychological novel, into a courtroom drama ….”

1878 – Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy

“Listening highlighted the quality of the storytelling, the characters, the prose, and the wonderful, wonderful rhythm of the words. That was something I would never have picked up if I’d read from a book. It didn’t take long at all for me to be smitten ….”

1911 – Mr Perrin and Mr Traill by Hugh Walpole

“Mr Traill is a new master, in his first teaching post. He knows that it is first step on the ladder. He is young, handsome, athletic, charming, and the boys love him. But he is oblivious to the tension in the air, and he is incredulous when one of his colleagues warns him to get out as soon as he can ….”

1923 – None-Go-By by Mrs Alfred Sidgwick

“I found myself listening  to Mary Clarendon, as she spoke about what happened  when she and her husband moved from London to a Cornish cottage they named ‘None-Go-By’, and it’s lovely because her voice is so real, open and honest; and because she catches people and their relationships so beautifully.”

1925 – The Mother’s Recompense by Edith Wharton

“It was not easy to feel sympathy for a woman who had abandoned her daughter, but I did. Because Kate Clephane was a real, complex, human being, and she was as interesting as any woman I have met in the pages of an Edith Wharton novel. “

1932 – Three Fevers by Leo Walmsley

“I learned recently that Leo Walmsley’s father, Ulric, studied art in Newlyn under Stanhope Forbes. and that pointed me to the best way that I could explain why this book is so readable: Leo Walmsley captured his fishing community in words every bit as well as Stanhope Forbes and his contemporaries captured the fishing community in Newlyn.”

1934 – Wild Strawberries by Angela Thirkell

“‘Wild Strawberries’ is the story of one aristocratic English family and one glorious summer in between the wars. And it is set in Angela Thirkell’s Barchestershire, a place where every single person, however high or low their situation, is happy and accepting of their situation and the role they are to play. You need to be able to accept that – and I can understand that some might not be able to – but I can, and if you can too, you will find much to enjoy in this light, bright and sparkling social comedy ….”

1939 – Nine Pounds of Luggage by Maud Parrish

“When I read the extract from her book I fell in love with her voice; it was the voice of a woman talking openly and honestly to a friend, a woman with lots and lots of great stories to tell. I so wanted to read everything that she had written, but there was not a copy of her book to be had. Until I found that I could borrow a copy from Open Library ….”

 1940 – The English Air by D E Stevenson

“The story played out beautifully, moving between Franz and his English family. It grew naturally from the characters I had come to like and to care about; it caught the times, the early days of the war, perfectly; and though it wasn’t entirely predictable it was entirely right. Even better – maybe because ‘The English Air’ was written and published while was still raging – the ending was uncontrived and natural. And that’s not always the case with D E Stevenson’s novel ….”

 1941 – The Castle on the Hill by Elizabeth Goudge

“This is a story of the darkest days of World War II, when only England stood against the Nazi forces advancing across Europe, and when the fear of invasion was very, very real. Elizabeth Goudge lived on the south coast of England then, close to the eye of the storm, it was during the war that she wrote this book, and it was clear as I read that she knew and she that understood ….”

And that’s it! It shouldn’t be such a wait for the next report ….

Sixes

It was Jo’s idea a couple of years ago, and now it’s become an annual event – celebrate the first six months of the reading year by putting six books into each of six categories.

Not quite as easy as it looks. I’ve tweaked the categories to suit my reading style, and because I wanted to push disappointments to one site and simply celebrate some of the books I’ve read and the books I’ve discovered.

Here are my six sixes:

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Six books illuminated by wonderful voices from the twentieth century

Lolly Willowes by Sylvia Townsend Warner
The Diary of a Provincial Lady by E M Delafield
The English Air by D E Stevenson
The Castle on the Hill by Elizabeth Goodge
Nine Coaches Waiting by Mary Stewart
The Magic Toyshop by Angela Carter

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Six books from the present that took me to the past

The Visitors by Rebecca Maskell
Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke
An Appetite for Violets by Martine Bailey
Turning the Stones by Debra Daley
The True and Splendid History of the Harristown Sisters by Michelle Lovric
Sugar Hall by Tiffany Murray

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Six books from the past that pulled me back there

Wired Love by Ella Cheever Thayer
Esther Waters by George Moore
Griffith Gaunt by Charles Reade
Nine Pounds of Luggage by Maud Parrish
The Count of Monte Christo by Alexandre Dumas
Can You Forgive Her? by Anthony Trollope

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Six books that introduced me to interesting new authors

Wake by Anna Hope
Still She Wished for Company by Margaret Irwin
The Lie of You: I Will Have What is Mine by Jane Lythell
Mr Perrin and Mr Traill by Hugh Walpole
My Salinger Year by Joanna Rakoff
None-Go-By by Mrs Alfred Sidgwick

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Six successful second meeting with authors

The Auction Sale by C H B Kitchin
The Twelfth Hour by Ada Leverson
A Hundred Pieces of Me by Lucy Dillon
Wild Strawberries by Angela Thirkell
Mrs Westerby Changes Course by Elizabeth Cadell
Her by Harriet Lane

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Six used books added to my shelves

The Heroes of Clone by Margaret Kennedy
The Serial Garden by Joan Aiken
Portrait of a Village by Francis Brett Young
The West End Front by Matthew Sweet
The Stag at Bay by Rachel Ferguson
Elizabeth’s Women by Tracy Boorman

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Do think about putting your own sixes – it’s a great way of perusing your reading, and I’d love to read more lists.

Nine Pounds of Luggage by Maud Parrish

I spotted Maud Parrish’s name when I was looking in ‘The Virago Book of Woman Travellers’ for someone else entirely and I paused to see who she was, this woman with an unfamiliar name among many notable women travellers and writers.

I was intrigued by what I read:

“In her memoir, Maud Parrish relates her life of madcap adventure with the breathless, excitable energy of one who cannot stand still. Parrish worked as a dance-hall girl in Dawson City, Yukon, and Nome, Alaska, and operated a gambling house in Peking at the turn of the century. With her ‘Nine Pounds of Luggage’ and a banjo, she claimed to have gone around the world sixteen times, up and down continents, and around and about exotic islands. Parrish died at the age of 98. ‘Nine Pounds of Luggage’ was her only book.”

When I read the extract from her book I fell in love with her voice; it was the voice of a woman talking openly and honestly to a friend, a woman with lots and lots of great stories to tell. I so wanted to read everything that she had written, but there was not a copy of her book to be had. Until I found that I could borrow a copy from Open Library ….

9 pounds Maud Parrish was born in San Francisco in 1878, the only child of good people who brought her up well, to be a lady. Their bold and spirited daughter wanted more than that. There was something inside her that made her want to go out and see the world.

She didn’t know why – though she thought it might be something to do with all of the travellers and pioneers in her family tree – she just knew that it was there.

That was why she grabbed the chance of marriage to a young man whose family had business interests in South America, thinking that he would take her there. He wouldn’t; the marriage was a catastrophic failure; and when, amid chaotic scenes, a judge refused a dissolution, Maud decided that she’d had enough.

“So I ran away. I hurried more than if lions had chased me. Without telling him. Without telling my mother or father. There wasn’t any liberty in San Francisco for ordinary women. But I found some. No jobs for girls in offices like there are now. You got married, were an old maid, or went to hell. Take your pick.”

Maud took her suitcase and her banjo and she bought a ticket to the Yukon, to gold rush country. She loved it there: she saw sights, she made friends, she supported herself by playing the banjo, and when she had earned enough money she bought another ticket to somewhere else. And that would be the pattern of her life until 1939, when she was persuaded to pause to write her story.

That meant that there was an awful lot of travelling to fit into one book, and so Maud Parrish isn’t the woman to travel with of you want lovely descriptions and insight into different cultures, but, if you want a good chat and a non-stop journey with a lively companion, then she’s definitely your girl.

There were times when she had to rough it, but she didn’t complain she just got on with it, pushing back the boundaries of where a woman might go. She didn’t always win, but she usually did. There must have been times when she had to do things no lady would, but she is always discreet. She said nothing that would embarass her family; and though Maude never wanted to stop travelling she travelled home to see her parents often. They never quite understood their wayward daughter but they always supported her, and the bond between them remained strong.

Maud had hardly a bad word to say about anyone; she accepted the world and the people in it exactly as they were.

I can well believe that she went around the world sixteen times; it was hard to keep track but the only places I can say with any certainty that she didn’t visit were in central and southern Africa. And Afghanistan – though she had a good try at getting into the country it was one of her few failures.

It wasn’t that the pace was dizzying, it was that Maude’s spirit, the way she lived for the present and always had a head full of lovely possibilities for the future infected me.

A great deal of history passed Maud by: she simply side-stepped into neutral countries during World War I, a lack of funds during the depression held her up for some time, and then …. well it was a little more difficult to keep going and, though she was loath to admit it, she was finding some things more difficult as she got older.

That might be what made her finally stop and tell her story. Or it might have been the things she saw that troubled her in 1930s Germany, at the Berlin Olympics ….

It was a pause though, not an end. She loved the journey home, paid for by the publisher who had – in his own words – chased her around the globe with letters for two years, and by the last page of the book she was planning new trips – to Labrador and then – maybe – to Afghanistan and Turkmenistan.

Whatever it was – and I suspect that her reasons were, at least in part, financial – I am very glad that she did, because I loved reading it.

A Letter to a Lady Traveller from a Bygone Age

My Dear Miss Parrish,

I do hope that you will forgive this intrusion, but I came across your name recently, purely by chance, and I felt that I must write.

You will, I am sure, be pleased to here that one author has just published, and another is about to publish, a book inspired by the travels of ladies like yourself.

Francesca Brill has written ‘The Harbour,’ a novel set in Hong Kong during the Second World War. It is a wonderful, vibrant story (though you may consider it a little racy) and she gives credit to the works of a number of other authors, including Emily Hahn. And I have been reading about another novel that will be published very soon, ‘A Lady Cyclist’s Guide to Kashgar’ by Suzanne Joinson. While reading I saw references to the names of two more lady travellers, names that I am quite sure will be familiar to you: Isabel Eberhart and Ella Maillart.

I was inspired to find out more about all three lady travellers, and so I pulled a book from the shelf that I knew would tell me a little more about them before I investigated their writings further.

It is a wonderful book and I found all three of those ladies, and many others who I am sure you will know. Kate O’Brien, Freya Stark, Isabella Bird, Beryl Markham, Margaret Fountaine …

And this is when I spotted your name, and I was curious to learn who you were.

I am so glad I looked, because the editors wrote about you so very well.

“In her memoir, Maud Parrish relates her life of madcap adventure with the breathless, excitable energy of one who cannot stand still. Parrish worked as a dance-hall girl in Dawson City, Yukon, and Nome, Alaska, and operated a gambling house in Peking at the turn of the century. With her ‘Nine Pounds of Luggage’ and a banjo, she claimed to have gone around the world sixteen times, up and down continents, and around and about exotic islands. Parrish died at the age of 98. ‘Nine Pounds of Luggage’ was her only book.”

What spirit you had, what a wonderful life, and what an extraordinary period of history you lived through!

I had to read on, to read a little of your story in your own words, and I am so glad I did. It was quite marvellous!

“So I ran away. I hurried more than if lions had chased me. Without telling him. Without telling my mother or father. There wasn’t any liberty in San Francisco for ordinary women. But I found some. No jobs for girls in offices like there are now. You got married, were an old maid, or went to hell. Take your pick.”

I knew that I had to seek out a copy. I checked with the library, but there was not one single copy to be found in the county. And so I looked to see if any book dealers had copies, but there were very few copies to be found, all priced at more than one hundred pounds. A sum far beyond my limited means!

I am terribly disappointed, but I do have the works of many pioneering ladies that were published over the years as Virago Travellers to enjoy. Some from my own shelves, two that I have been inspired to order, and a few more that I can reserve at the library.

But I should like to add your book to my collection. If there is anything you could do to persuade some enterprising publisher to bring it back into print I should be most grateful, and I am sure that there are many others who would love to read it too,

With the warmest regards,

Fleur Fisher