Two down, 24 to go!
Finished the second novel, Bassett. First time read for me.
I'm shocked at just how modern this seems in structure and outlook. Of course it's "dated" in many of the ways you'd expect of something written almost 100 years ago. But for perspective, this was published only 120 years after Pride & Prejudice.
The story, or rather, the two stories in one, is really rather clever. In one of the earliest scenes, two of the characters from one of the story halves meet one of the characters from the other story half; if this were more conventional, you'd expect their stories to intertwine, especially as they take place in houses which are walking distance apart. But in fact, the opposite is true: apart from attending one party together, the two halves never actually meet again.
The modernity I think comes from the fact that fairly universal human themes are in play. I read on a thread on here this morning someone saying, in response to basically "aibu to think that the world is going to hell in a handcart", that that's nonsense, and that every 80-100 years there appears to be something of a global reconfiguring of things, that feels to those involved like the end of the world as they know it. We're in one of those periods now perhaps, and this between the wars novel deals with the previous one. The house in the titular village of Bassett is the scene of the decline of its upper middle class inhabitant, Miss Pedsoe, who is - horror! - having to take in boarders to make ends meet.
The comedy comes from her unlikely partner, Miss Baker, and east end seamstress who is effectively retiring and investing her life savings. Miss Baker is fantastically sweary (for the time), I couldn't help but laugh out loud at her shouting out of the window at a pair of rogue-ish characters who have just been evicted from the house:
"Wait till he...hears how you left her alone upstairs when she was ill for hours on end, you pair of dirty idle lazy good-for-nothing saucy useless robbing thieving sluts you!"
And not long after this, when the house's owner Miss Padsoe returns, in something of a signature move for Stella, Miss Baker consoles her and comedy instantly dissolves into pathos:
"Now don't you fret. Everything's all right." Of course, everything was not all right. Miss Padsoe was sixty, her friends were scattered, poor, dead, the world of her deliciously gay and gentle youth had vanished more horribly than any dream. She had not a thing to do in the world but move uselessly about inside her body, waiting for death.
Meanwhile, the other side of this story, the occupants of the "big house", a few rungs higher up the social ladder, are also demonstrating how modern this story is. At this stage, while Miss Padsoe is learning how to earn money from taking in lodgers, they are unaffected, and continue life much as it ever was, driving around in a Bentley, throwing wild parties, going to shows in London, going on month long trips abroad, and fretting over love affairs and the like. And, just in case you feel too sorry for Miss Padsoe, we're reminded, through her going in to town "to engage a girl to do some cleaning" when they have a guest, that despite the hardships, she is still nowhere near the bottom of the pile.
All in all, a much more complex novel than I was expecting, considering it was only Stella's second full length work. I really enjoyed this.
Now, a break for something else, and then, the wonderful Enbury Heath (published 1935), one of my favourite books.