The Diary of a Provincial Lady

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It was a nice quiet read. Sometimes I just need that. Sometimes I don’t want to read a novel in which I am warned ahead of time that one or more godawful things will happen. Nothing godawful happened in this novel…well there were a couple of minor things that I questioned the political correctness of, but I can overlook them… 😉 Persephone Books has published this classic so ergo, it must be good. My edition was from Academy Chicago. I read a Goodread friend’s review of this book, and it sounded quite good, and so I put it on my TBR list and I read it today and I liked it quite a bit. 😊

So, in summary, a fitting read for the #1930Club, best consumed in small doses to avoid any risk of fatigue. It’s the sort of book you can dip in and out of every now and again when the mood takes you without having to worry about the intricacies of narrative plot. She was a great admirer and champion of Charlotte M. Yonge, and an authority on the Brontës. In 1938 Lorna Mesney became her secretary, and kept a diary to which Delafield's biographer was given access. Miss S. admits she is looking forward to a Nice Cup of Tea and perhaps a Lay-Down, when she gets home. Reflect, not for the first time, that there are advantages in being a spinster. Should be sorry to say exactly how long it is since I last had a Lay-Down myself, without being disturbed at least fourteen times in the course of it. This is good to read if you're interested in the origins of blog as a genre. The author essentially thinly disguises her life as fiction in an attempt to earn some money by way of entering literary competitions, something that was one of very few ways of earning money available to a woman of her social position. The strength of the book lies in the humour (but it's pretty watered down and barely caustic, unless you're really unacquainted with the variety) and the way the writer presents herself as relatable - a mother who's not all that motherly; a lady of the house who cannot run it efficiently; a person who never has enough cash and has to repeatedly pawn her heirloom ring and resort to selling used items of clothing; a woman who yearns for some time away from her family, and is told she looks ten years younger on separation. July 27th.—End of holiday quite definitely in sight, and everyone very kindly says, Why not stay on? I refer, in return, to Robert and the children—and add, though not aloud, the servants, the laundry, the Women's Institute, repainting the outside of bath, and the state of my overdraft. Do I realise, says Lady B., that the Cold Habit is entirely unnecessary, and can be avoided by giving the child a nasal douche of salt-and-water every morning before breakfast?My favourite character in this book was Mademoiselle, the children’s French governess. She tends to speak in French, which, I suppose, E.M. Delafield’s target audience would all have read without difficulty. Mademoiselle is long-suffering par excellence and has a wonderfully enigmatic mode of expression verging on the 'prophet of doom' variety. The heirs of Jane Austen/Rachel R. Mather. (Peter Lang, 1996) ISBN 0-8204-2624-5 (Treats E M Delafield, EF Benson and Angela Thirkell) A week or two later, an ardent American women's lib lady came to dinner with a very downtrodden husband called Normie, whom, she told me in stage whispers throughout the evening, she was about to divorce. She also admitted to running several other affaires. Her one horror, she added, was flying, and the following day she was returning to America. Being several drinks to the good by this time, I lent her my copy of Provincial Lady to comfort her on the flight. After she'd gone, I was furious with myself. She would obviously despise the novel as insular, unliberated nonsense, and never bother to return it. The Diary of a Provincial Lady is a charming, wry, satirical glimpse into the world of the upper-middle class in Devonshire, England in the late 1920s/early 1930s.

Robert comes up very late and says he must have dropped asleep over the Times. (Query: Why come to Bournemouth to do this?) Make distressing discovery that there is no way of obtaining breakfast until train halts at Avignon. Break this information later to American young gentleman, who falls into deep distress and says that he does not know the French for grapefruit. Neither do I, but am able to inform him decisively that he will not require it. The Suburban Young Man (1928) - Peter has fallen in love with the well-born Antoinette, but his Scottish wife Hope remains in admirable control of the situation. Dedicated "To All Those Nice People who have so often asked me to Write a Story about Nice People".The Provincial Lady spends a great deal of time fending off the bank manager’s letters informing her of her overdraft; this surprised me, but this was an age where a certain standard of living was expected of a certain class of people, whether they could afford it or not. The family’s house appears to stand in the only grounds capable of hosting open-air church events, and has a home farm where they send for extra eggs or cream when a visitor comes to stay. The household budget is tight, although they employ a cook, a housemaid and a gardener as well as the younger child’s governess (the older one, a boy, is at boarding school). The Provincial Lady often feels the urge to buy a new dress or hat (and does so), which is a rather endearing way of dealing with the bank manager. The book details the ordinary frustrations of such a life in a highly entertaining way – there’s not a hint of resentment or complaint, just a succession of her witty and hilarious descriptions of day-to-day events.

Especially a lovely strain of bookishness, and the knowledge that the Provincial Lady was an aspiring author. Delafield's son Lionel died in late 1940, some suggest by his own hand, something from which she never recovered. Three years later, after collapsing while giving a lecture in Oxford, Delafield died on 2 December 1943 after a progressive decline which first necessitated a colostomy and visits to a neurologist. She was buried under her favourite yew tree in Kentisbeare churchyard, near her son. Her mother survived her and died in October 1945. Her daughter, Rosamund Dashwood, emigrated to Canada.

THE END

I should explain first that the Provincial Lady wrote her diary in the 1930s, and that she lived in a very busy life in a lovely village in the south west of England. She had a lively household to manage, and a welter of social obligations.

Ms Delafield wrote a further two books in this series. I won't be reading them, but I don't rule out trying some of her other works. Query, mainly rhetorical: Why are nonprofessional women, if married and with children, so frequently referred to as “leisured”? Answer comes there none.” Here is an example of the Provincial Lady's drollness (her maid upped and left her, so she is looking for a new maid): The Provincial Lady Goes Further (1932) - continuation, beginning with astonishment at receiving a large royalty cheque (from Provincial Lady). Dedicated to Cass Canfield. [5] This has now been added to the canon of books I love set between the two World Wars, books like the books of Nancy Mitford, Dorothy Sayers, Elizabeth HowardA fictional diary from the 1920s, almost entirely taking place in the Devonshire countryside, is lively, amusing and most enjoyable. It might have been boring, but most certainly isn't and although life is very different today, some of the problems encountered chime with our own. The Provincial lady in Russia is probably my least favourite of all the novels, because it’s dark and depressing and Delafield showcases the problems with Communism and her frustration with them. It’s also the only book not written in a diary format but in three short essays of her time in Moscow, Leningrad and Odessa. A lot of well directed sarcasm in this one.