Guardian’s 1000 Novels Everyone Must Read: Barbara Pym’s Excellent Women
So it was way back in February when I posted my only other review according to the decrees of the reading challenge I’ve decided to participate in. Since it’s almost July, I’ve decided to write this second review, of the book I read (twice) in June. I actually read two books off the list in June, but since they’re both by the same author I thought I’d go back to that one later in an attempt to differentiate them (and because I want to read it again anyway). I chose another book off the list I’d never heard of before, the novel Excellent Women by English novelist Barbara Pym. The first book I reviewed was an autobiography that was published in 2006, so Pym’s novel, published in 1952 with a narrative that took place in London in the 50s, was a bit of a departure. And I loved it. I’m surprised that Pym isn’t better known, and grateful that someone at the Guardian had the good sense to add two of her novels to the list so I could begin my journey into the world of Barbara Pym’s female protagonists.
The title of the book refers to single women who volunteer in church work and organizations like the one our protagonist, Mildred Lathbury, works for, which aids impoverished gentlewomen. Besides these organized good works, the unwritten social code dictates that excellent women are there to serve all those who know them, making cups of tea when it is needed or requested, mediating conflict, and providing counseling for those who are troubled. Mildred expresses surprise at the idea of a man thinking of marrying an excellent woman: “But they are not for marrying… They are for being unmarried, and by that I mean a positive rather than a negative state.” Indeed, though the men in Mildred’s life feel “we ought to do something” to get her a man, or assume she’s always planned to marry the local vicar, there is a certain silence on this subject from almost all of the women she interacts with, and it seems likely Mildred might not like to be married. She expresses a desire to live alone, and seems to enjoy her routine and independence. You really get to know Mildred when she is alone, trying to write a letter, or observing people at a restaurant or in church, and reading cookery or devotional books before bed.
Mildred’s relationships, if they can be called that, tend towards an unequal nature, and this becomes a particular problem while living above and sharing a bathroom with her new neighbors, the Napiers. Helena, an anthropologist who has quite a liking for her partner in the field, Everard Bone (when she sees him in church early in the novel, Mildred wonders about “his friendship or whatever it was with Helena Napier”, though it is implied later that nothing happens between them as a result of her affection). Rockingham Napier (“How the bearer of such a name would hate sharing a bathroom!”, Mildred muses) arrives shortly after Helena, fresh from the Navy in Italy, where he charmed WREN officers in “ill-fitting uniforms”. Mildred often reminds herself of these WREN officers when thinking about Rocky, and how charming and likable he is, in attempts to keep herself from loving him.
I can’t do justice to this book in this review. A summary of the plot wouldn’t make it quite appealing enough, and many of the quotes I could pull out are so much better in context. Though Mildred enjoys much of her life and many of the people in it, there are unpleasant parts of her life, when she is asked by a third party to live with a friend who is about to be displaced, or when repeated demands pile up, taking away her time and energy and resulting in countless pots of tea. The story is about Mildred and all excellent women, it’s about Helena and Rocky’s relationship, it’s about the way people project their desires onto others and the consequences and bad feelings and many awkward occasions. It is a delight to get to know Mildred and to be witness to her thoughts and ideas about those around her.
Before I wrap up my rambling review, I want to tell you about one of my favorite parts of the book, towards the end, which takes place before the start of a church meeting “to decide about the Christmas bazaar” (we never get to see the bazaar, but you do learn about jumble sales in this novel, which I greatly enjoyed). Part contemplation, part dialogue with another excellent woman who is preparing tea for the meeting, the subject is, very suitably, tea, and whether you can ever have too much of it. Mildred asks Miss Statham if they really need tea, which distresses the poor woman. Mildred’s final reflection on the topic: “I began to realize that my question had struck at something deep and fundamental. It was the kind of question that starts a landslide in the mind”, is as good as any example of the way Pym excels at taking everyday activities and objects and making them part of something bigger, using them to illuminate many relationships, almost all of which lack love, comfort, or honesty. Think Pride and Prejudice without the conventional coupling and easy ending, Pym revels in uncomfortable truths and lies, as well as a strong belief in the equality (or more) of women. Go and read something by her today!
I’m hoping these reviews will be coming more quickly these days – I have several novels lined up to read – The House on Mango Street, Their Eyes Were Watching God, Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre. I’m also reading Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, so maybe I’ll give a review of that here too. And I’m due to take photos of my garden and post them here. Meanwhile, I’d love to hear your thoughts on Pym and her works, if you’ve read her.
