First published in 1960, Pomp and Circumstance, Coward's only novel, was greeted with wide critical acclaim. 'A South Sea Bubble of a book it is, with a Royal Visit expected on the Island of Samolo, and the narrator, a mother of three, dealing with everything from chicken-pox to the amours of a visiting Duchess' (Daily Telegraph); 'If there is anywhere on earth where the old Coward world still credibly lingers on, it is probably a fairly peaceful tropical colony ruled over by a British Governor General . . . Coward's long cast list might have walked out of one of his better comedies' (Evening Standard); 'It is all good, near-clean fun, magnificently readable' (Sunday Times).
Sir Noël Peirce Coward was an English actor, playwright, and composer of popular music. Among his achievements, he received an Academy Certificate of Merit at the 1943 Academy Awards for "outstanding production achievement for In Which We Serve."
Known for his wit, flamboyance, and personal style, his plays and songs achieved new popularity in the 1960s and 1970s, and his work and style continue to influence popular culture. The former Albery Theatre (originally the New Theatre) in London was renamed the Noël Coward Theatre in his honour in 2006.
politicamente scorrettissimi, sorretti da un invidiabile senso dell'umorismo, deliziosamente snob, i protagonisti si muovono vorticosamente fra cocktail, ricevimenti e riunioni di improbabili comitati, bevendo come tombini, fumando come turchi, sfoggiando abitini di dior e balenciaga. mi sono divertita ad ogni pagina, cinque stelle non gliele toglie nessuno.
This is my favorite book of all time. A comedy of manners about the Queen's visit to Samoa.
I picked up this book to have as a cafe book when I was in Cape Town. While waiting for my breakfast I started reading it and really thought it was funny - so I kept on and ended up loving it.
Prima di scoprire per puro caso questo libro non avevo idea che Noël Coward avesse affiancato all’attività di attore, commediografo e autore di canzoni e operette quella di romanziere; ma in effetti questo dovrebbe essere il suo unico lavoro di narrativa: ed è un vero peccato, perché vi esibisce un talento invidiabile. Anzi, diciamo pure che se gran parte degli scrittori che pubblicano racconti, romanzi, storie e storielle di vario tipo avessero la quarta parte del talento del vecchio Sir Noël non solo si potrebbero chiamare fortunati, ma finalmente pubblicherebbero per giunta libri piacevoli da leggere; ché gran parte della narrativa in voga oggi è terribilmente penitenziale. In altri tempi, confessori austeri l’avrebbero assegnata in buone dosi ai peccatori pentiti: ma per peccati gravi, meritevoli di rigoroso castigo. Va detto che anche nella narrativa Coward si mostra uomo di teatro: i dialoghi serbano intatti l’agilità danzereccia e mercuriale, il brio e l’esprit di scene da commedia; ma, lungi dal risolvere tutto il racconto negli scambî di battute, come fecero con successo Ivy Compton Burnett e, con minor abilità, Ronald Firbank, il Nostro dà prova d’un’allegra e disinvolta freschezza nel raccontare: fra descrizioni di paesaggi, luoghi, vestiti, situazioni e persone, le vicende si dipanano frizzanti e spigliate. La trama è un fuoco d’artificio di trovate che danno modo all’autore di occuparsi di tutta una serie di temi – dalla vita nelle colonie britanniche al rapporto fra colonizzatori e indigeni, dalle figurine e figurette della società di provincia alle relazioni coniugali e adulterine, dalle coppie gay (le quali ancora non si chiamavano così ed erano illegali, ma esistevano) alle tremende damazze snob di paese; ovviamente non s’incontra neppure l’ombra di political correctness: tutti vivono di rendita (o al massimo fingono di lavorare), fumano come turchi, mangiano roba pesante e fin dal mattino, da buoni inglesi old fashioned, bevono in modo smodato Horse’s Necks e Martini cocktail – ma secchissimi questi ultimi, praticamente gin puro, come pare che a Villa La Pietra li amasse offrire la mamma di Sir Harold Acton. E fioccano leggiadri e cattivissimi paradossi, cortesi perfidie, complimenti caustici, malignità soavi, faccende serie trattate con la fatuità più vaporosa, eteree inezie affrontate col piglio più impegnato e professionale; un’arte della conversazione e della maldicenza della più consumata e felice civiltà, che zampillano e sfarfallano giorno dopo giorno tra giardini tropicali, verande ombrose, riunioni mondane, ricevimenti a pioggia, vestiti di splendido taglio. Tutto very british, tutto bellissimo. Se proprio al termine della lettura, presi da una crisi di masochismo, vogliamo farci venire pensieri tristi, basta confrontare questo romanzo con quelli coevi di genere sollazzevole che si pubblicavano in Italia; ma è meglio di no, bando ai ricordi di cattiva civiltà letteraria: ché dopotutto, come insegna Liala, di ricordi si muore.
Hysterically funny, as I recall. It all revolves on the social mishaps on a tropical island and the well known British mania of keeping up appearances. It all comes to a frothy head with considerable wit and panache. I should reread this as it's been ages and I could certainly use a good laugh.
Now, I love Noël, but as a novelist he was an absolutely brilliant playwright. This was below par. Or rather it was perfectly on par - as a play. This is really just a series social engagements in a south seas setting. Everyone sounds like Noël. At times it's laugh out loud witty. But the plot isn't novel-ready. The stakes are slim and the tension slight. It's not enough. If he'd reworked it as a play it likely would have been hilarious. As a book it isn't one. It hurts me to be lacklustre about something he slaved on. As a writer he inspired my fifteen year old self to write. He still inspires me. His plays are brilliant and so are his memoirs.
La partenza è stata lenta, ma il finale è arrivato troppo presto. Mi sono affezionata presto a questi personaggi bene del colonialismo britannico, pieni di alcol e parvenze. La visita della regina Elisabetta è il pretesto per mettere a soqquadro la placida vita si Samolo, isola immaginaria facente parte di un tropicale protettorato britannico. La distanza geografica si annulla, mentre la buona società british cerca di comportarsi come tale. Tra torbidi segreti di pubblico dominio e pretese artistiche troppo elevate per le risorse locali la nostra protagonista avanza a testa alta, sostenuta da robuste dosi di liquore e sigarette. Come spesso accade il viaggio è molto più divertente dell'arrivo alla meta e ci affezioniamo più ai personaggi che partono, che ai reali che arrivano.
The Master writes, and having writ, we laugh. This is a sublime comic novel that gets crazier and funnier as it goes along, an expertly made farce brought off with real skill and surprising warmth. I laughed out loud twenty times (LOL's galore). And it made me want to write a book just like it. Maybe I will just write this book, because I know I'll get it right that way. Whatever I do, I recommend this as a model in the realm of the comic novel. It isn't well-enough known
It would be hard to say which of my top ten books is my favourite, but I think it would be this one. This is partly for personal reasons - I was born into just such an insular Colonial community. It is very, very dated - you couldn't possibly re-write it into the 21st century because there is no comparable place or lifestyle left in the world. But it is spot-on accurate and describes a last unspoiled corner before tourism and television swept through the world and turned everything into look-alike hotel chains and interchangeable beauty spots.
The entire book is about the turmoil this small oh-so-English community on a tropical island is thrown into by the imminent visit of the newly crowned Queen and her handsome consort. The characters are brilliant, and funny, and as often as I read it there are times when I have to stop because I'm crying with laughter. Noel Coward mocks them mercilessly but with deep affection and it is just brilliant.
Noel Coward's only published novel is a hilarious snapshot of a few hectic months on the (fictional) island of Samolo, a British colony, leading up to a visit from young Queen Elizabeth and her husband. Thanks to my book club for agreeing to read this obscure little gem; it gave me the chance to re-read one of my all-time favorite books!
No one does a funny yet insightful send up of self-absorbed, neurotic people better than Noel Coward. This is my go-to book when I need to escape from my crazy life into the completely different world that he has created of upper-class British plantation owners in the South Pacific after WWII.
This was so very British - characters with perfect manners, a huge amount of alchohol consumed and a hilarious storyline. I would love to visit this fictional British outpost. Noel Coward captures the era beautifully
This is without a doubt one of the best books I have ever read. Subtle, and not-so-subtle, humor, a gripping plot, and irreverent looks at British colonial life on a fictional island. I have worn out two copies from reading them so much. One must, simply must, read this book.
Delightful, as long as you can skim over the built-in colonial racism with Noel Cowardesque élan. It was like taking a tropical vacation with a very clever, funny friend.
Una total y absoluta maravilla. No es sólo que sea divertido y ameno, es que además es bueno. La única pega es que se trata de una edición antigua con algunas erratas y traducida a español latinoamericano por lo que al principio cuesta un poco acostumbrarse, pero el libro es tan bueno que al final acabé pasándolo por alto. De todas formas sería ideal que alguien se decidiese a reeditarlo (a Impedimenta le pegaría bastante).
Adoro il fatto che gli inglesi di un tempo restavano inglesi ovunque andavano. Potevano anche trasferirsi sulla luna e avrebbero comunque continuato a bere té, dare garden party, lamentarsi dell'inefficienza della servitù e dei bei tempi andati e leggere sui giornali i succulenti scandali mondani scoppiati in patria. Tutto ciò a migliaia di chilometri di distanza dalla cara vecchia Inghilterra!
Questo è ciò che più o meno colora le giornate di Grizel, la voce narrante, che ha però l'ironia e la lucidità di vederne la completa futilità. A maggior ragione quando attorno a lei c'è la straordinaria bellezza di un'isola che sembra uscita da un quadro di Gauguin e che le offre la possibilità di godere di una vita più dolce e genuina.
Chiaramente, quando si diffonde a Samolo la notizia della visita dei reali non può che scatenarsi una specie di isteria collettiva. E mentre Grizel cerca di sopravvivere a comitati organizzativi dove vengono proposte idee ridicole e inattuabili, le si presenta un'altra sfida: aiutare un amico a ospitare sull'isola la sua nobilissima e sposatissima amante, senza che i due vengano scoperti...
This novel was simply a pure delight. Coward's prose is rich and delicious; it trips along at a great pace (while at the same time the events of the novel are wonderfully unhurried, despite the farcelike plot) yet one wants to savor every word of it. The witticisms and wry drolleries that are so thick on the ground are also blended seamlessly with the fabric of the book because they contribute to and spring from character -- and are hilarious.
Through that wonderful prose, Coward also conjures a brilliant heroine in the narrator, who is satirically detached from her own life, kindly human and tolerant, well aware that her philosophical reflections and the connections that she makes to her remembered world of literature are lost on almost everyone around her, and blissfully unaware of the indecisiveness that everyone else points out in her.
Perfectly thoughtful and perfectly lighthearted simultaneously. Coward was no novice as a writer, of course, but it's still incredible that that this was his first and only novel, considering the masterful deftness of its voice and pacing.
Coward’s only novel. Top 3 of all the things he’s done for me, personally. You could say that it’s overlong and has some pacing problems. You could say that the plot is light (english resident of an island paradise is ensnared by her friend into covering up his affair with a beautiful if somewhat vacant socialite; meanwhile, the country prepares for Queen Elizabeth’s arrival). But Coward’s writing is so witty and spritely and even poignant every now and then. The book itself is like its mythical island setting - even for its faults, it’s kind of a lovely place to sit back and marvel at.
I've enjoyed Noel Coward's plays for many years (especially Blithe Spirit and Present Laughter), so the prospect of reading his only novel was entirely positive. And I was not disappointed. Pomp and Circumstance was engaging and amusing from start to finish. I read the book over the course of about a week, and each time I picked up the book to continue reading, I began chuckling even before I even opened it. That's the sign of a great story.
This is a lovely and very funny romp through upper crusty British colonial life. I Wasn't too sad when it ended as I found it went on longer than need be. At this time of year in Canada it proved to be great escapism and made me want a holiday in the south seas.
PERFECT. I am a constant expat. So my views are from an outsiders point of view. Apart from the dated racial issues, truly a timeless classic! I was crying because I was laughing soooooooo hard!!!!
A romp of hilarious, observed British humour enacted in an outpost of a declining empire. Great for the poolside or beach...with a Martini in hand, of course!!
I came home that evening to find Sarah in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of wine.
"Pour me one, too, darling", I asked, "or I shall die."
"Don't be silly, dear", Sarah said, as I flung myself down on a chair, "you don't drink". She was right, of course; my day had been so beastly that I had completely overlooked the fact that I had not drunk as much as a martini in over a year and a half. I sighed, walking over to the cupboard to retrieve a non-alcoholic beer before joining Sarah in the verandah. In truth, it is really more of a patio, but it is raised, so I suppose you could call it a verandah.
"How was the rehearsal, darling?" I asked as I sat down next to her. Sarah is in the local Amateur Dramatics committee, and they had been hard at work putting on a musical revue. "I hope they have given you a solo part!"
"They haven't", Sarah sighed, sipping her wine.
"Why", I cried, "that's simply beastly! They are clearly playing at favourites!"
Sarah shrugged, saying nothing, and sipped again. I sensed a change of subject was necessary, and so I started telling her about this book I had read.
"It's called Pomp and Circumstance", I began, "and it's about these people who live in a British island colony. And they are so delightfully posh!", I exclaimed.
Sarah smiled; she knows how much I adore all things posh. "Anyway, darling", I continued, "not much happens in the book. They are all preparing for the arrival of the Queen, but mostly it's about this very sensible woman slowly losing her mind as she tries to help everyone and still take care of her family. More of a social portrait, really. They are always very much in vogue, aren't they? But well-written, darling, and very engaging!", I concluded.
Sarah said nothing for a moment. Then, leaning in conspiratorially, she told me about bumping into Kylie and Mike in town earlier that day. "They had been running!", she gasped. "Can you IMAGINE?! Running? In this weather?!"
I agreed that it was perfectly outrageous, and we carried the topic on from there. All in all, we had a pleasant evening. And we did not even drink all the wine.