Greenbanks

by Dorothy Whipple

An early novel by Persephone's most popular author about an early 20th century family and, in particular, the relationship of the grandmother and granddaughter.

Genres: Fiction, Classics, Historical Fiction, British Literature, Historical, Novels, Modern Classics

387 pages, Paperback

First published September 1, 1932

About the author

Born in 1893, DOROTHY WHIPPLE (nee Stirrup) had an intensely happy childhood in Blackburn as part of the large family of a local architect. Her close friend George Owen having been killed in the first week of the war, for three years she worked as secretary to Henry Whipple, an educational administrator who was a widower twenty-four years her senior and whom she married in 1917. Their life was mostly spent in Nottingham; here she wrote Young Anne (1927), the first of nine extremely successful novels which included Greenbanks (1932) and The Priory (1939). Almost all her books were Book Society Choices or Recommendations and two of them, They Knew Mr Knight (1934) and They were Sisters (1943), were made into films. She also wrote short stories and two volumes of memoirs. Someone at a Distance (1953) was her last novel. Returning in her last years to Blackburn, Dorothy Whipple died there in 1966.

Reviews

[Antoinette · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 Stars.

There is something so addictive about reading a Dorothy Whipple book. She has a straight forward, non flowery style of writing that draws me right in. I love character driven novels and this one definitely fits into that category.

“ The house was called Greenbanks, but there was no green to be seen to-day; all the garden was deep in snow.”

The family home of the Ashton’s: Louisa is the matriarch. She is married to Robert and they have six children. They have numerous grandchildren, but in this book, only Rachel is an integral part of the story.

The story takes place from about 1910 to around 1920. Louisa and Rachel are our two primary observers. We get to know all the family members, but some better than others. They are not all likeable as with any family. There are jealousies, rivalries and downright meanness.

Dorothy Whipple tackles by showing us , how women were treated as subservient to men. They were expected to live to make their husband’s lives easier, to do as he commanded and never talk back. It was nice to see that by the end of the book, women were learning to take a stand.

There were definitely humorous moments as well as moments of heartbreak.

I love getting to know a family and all their dynamics. I was sad to say goodbye to Louisa and Rachel. What tomorrow will bring for them is left unclear, but that’s how life will always be.

Louisa thinking the following:
“She had never thought she would let a daughter of hers go away like this. But what could she do? Children grew up; they pleased themselves; they grew in power to go their own ways as you diminished in power to prevent them.”

Do yourself a favour- if you haven’t read a Dorothy Whipple book, do so. Her writing will hook you as it did me.

Published: 1932

[Elyse Walters · Rating 4 out of 5]

1930’s….
Pre WWI Britain

Robert and Louise Ashton have six children.
Rachel (one of the grandkids) and Louise have a special relationship….empowering to them both (Rachel is a strong focus of the story).

Ambrose and Letty Harding are married (adult children of Robert and Louise) — don’t exactly have a blissful marriage. With too much fighting between them in the house,
Rachel, ends up spending time with Louise & Robert in Greenbanks.

Family, extended family with many other characters as well….
the individual lives of the characters are filled with self worth and relationship complexities as familiar as apple pie.
This quiet reflective family story is heartfelt- tender - compassionate… and captures the era beautifully.

I’m another reader who has caught the Dorothy Whipple bug! And want to continue reading her stories.
Thank you Antoinette, again, for first introducing Whipple to me …
and to Persephone publishing for bringing her books back to enjoy today.

[Karen · Rating 4 out of 5]

After reading my first Dorothy Whipple novel last summer, I instantly fell in love with her style of writing and wanted to read all her work. I can see why she is Persephone's best selling author.
Published in 1932, Greenbanks is Dorothy Whipple's third novel and tells the story of the Ashton family just before and after the First World War.
Greenbanks chronicles the Ashton's joys and sorrows: marital infidelity, illegitmate babies, divorce, autocratic parents and rebellious offspring.But the mainspring of the book is the lovely relationship between Louisa ( who was based on Dorothy's own grandmother) and her granddaughter Rachel.
Full of wonderful characters that will stay with you and Dorothy's great sense of humour, this is a wonderful read.
My sixth read by Dorothy Whipple and i'm now looking forward to reading They Knew Mr. Knight and Because Of The Lockwoods along with her short stories The Closed Door and Other Stories.

[JimZ · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was a tad disappointed in this one by Dorothy Whipple. I think it was because I was not too invested in any of the characters. Of course, there were a couple of characters I did not like but Dorothy Whipple presented them as unlikable so that was fairly easy to spot and latch onto them from the get-go and dislike them. At times I liked Letty because she would occasionally stand up to her jerk-of-a- husband (and that is putting it mildly), Ambrose Harding. And I tended to like the matriarch of the family (mother to many of the characters in the novel and grandmother to Rachel, a major protagonist in the story), Louisa. Didn’t much like Kate (not related to the family) who got pregnant out of wedlock and was thrown out of the house by her father and left for a number of years after which she returned to be a factotum of sorts for Louisa (not sure what to call her…she wasn’t a servant…she helped Louisa out in the garden and did embroidery).

And then there was the ending, or the lack of a definitive ending to be more precise.

But then in the Afterword, Charles Lock (Professor of English Literature, University of Copenhagen, 2011), has this rejoinder to complainers like me regarding the lack of a definitive ending:
• The understated quality of Dorothy Whipple’s style is a special gift: an even greater gift is to know how to maintain that quiet steady tone against all temptations to introduce variety.
• On reaching the end of Greenbanks, the reader will take special notice of the closing paragraph, in which no green shoots emerge from under the snow; there is no sign that the title of the novel has any significance. Flatness must, by definition, shun the heights and depths; it recognizes no conclusion, no resolution, no satisfaction even, beyond the wisdom of realizing that the days go by, bringing joy to some sorrow to other. A more understated conclusion could hardly be reached, nor one that displays a greater indifference to its effect on us. For the reader there is the complex satisfaction of a riddle not quite solved, in this as in Dorothy Whipple’s other novels: they not only need to be read but — the mark of the best — they need to be read again.

So, I guess maybe I wanted all the loose ends to be nicely tied up at the end. It just sort of ended but Lock’s point was —so what? That’s life. Stop your whining Jim and grab another Whipple novel to read. Chop-chop! 😉

I did not like Rachel at the end falling in love with Kate’s son, who Kate had rejected because she wanted the Vicar to fall in love with her (and her son who she had when she was unwed would have gummed up the works). That was way too contrived. For me at least.

I laughed out loud at least two times while reading the novel because Whipple certainly has a sense of humor, and sometimes it comes out of the blue. Here’s one in which a bunch of old biddies who love nothing more than to gossip and to talk drivel are having tea at Louisa’s home and one of them says she had an operation and goes on…:
• ‘All my inside has gone,’ said Mrs. Webberley, plaintive but proud.
• ‘Dear, dear…’ said the matrons with sympathy.
• ‘So you must never,’ said Rachel, taking Judy by the scruff of the neck when at last they escaped into the garden, ‘you must never, in a moment of temper, accuse Mrs. Webberley of having no guts. Because, you see, it would be TRUE.’

Reviews (all these reviewers loved the book, and so once again I guess that shows me who is right and who is wrong. Me of course!!! 🙃):
• https://leavesandpages.com/2016/02/13...
• https://bookssnob.wordpress.com/2011/...
• https://dovegreyreader.typepad.com/do...
• https://acornerofcornwall.com/2018/02...
• https://madbibliophile.wordpress.com/...

[Beth Bonini · Rating 4 out of 5]

I think this novel is probably the perfect test case for whether or not Whipple's literary style appeals to you as a reader. In the afterword to the book, academic Charles Lock describes the "flatness" of Whipple's style. I don't have the book to hand, so forgive any lapse of memory, but I believe what he means is Whipple's restraint as a writer. She doesn't try to manipulate the reader's emotions, she avoids the melodramatic, and she relates both happiness and tragedy in the same understated style. But nevertheless, her books brim with emotion for me - perhaps because Whipple is so deft at creating characters and situations that seem utterly real.

This is a family saga, anchored by a house (the eponymous Greenbanks), and framed by the experiences of the family matriarch Louisa (whose life has been Victorian) and her beloved granddaughter Rachel (whose expectations as a woman will be changed by WWI). The novel begins at Christmas dinner - an occasion at which the family table is at most complete. From this moment, the family begins to shrink, to change, to splinter. The first major change will be the accidental death of Louisa's husband, Robert - a notorious philanderer, whose embarrassing death is swept under the rug. In due course, the younger children begin to leave home; including Louisa's favourite son, the wayward Charles. Louisa has the gift of making a home comfortable and welcoming, but the minor tragedy of her life is that her homemaking skills become gradually less relevant and necessary.

In a quiet way, this novel has quite a lot to say about the role of women. Louisa's own role as a wife has been largely unfulfilling; her fulfilment has come entirely from her children, and to a lesser extent, her garden. Several of her daughters make bad marriages, and it is clear that they marry for the worst of reasons - revenge, or just for the sake of something to do. The most striking example of Victorian patriarchal mores at work is the case of Kate - who is wooed by a man of social prestige. When she becomes pregnant, her reputation is utterly ruined, her child is taken from her and her father casts her off. Of course, nothing much happens to the man who abandons her. Kate is the unhappy, brooding, shamed presence in Louisa's household; Louisa takes her in as a companion from a sense of sympathy and responsibility, but she cannot offset Kate's unhappiness with her own kindness. The one bright spark is Rachel, representative of the new possibilities for women. Unlike her mother Letty and grandmother Louisa, Rachel has been a voracious reader. She has yearned for education, and is offered a place at Oxford - which her overbearing, officious father makes her turn down. Although Rachel's story stops at the point it is properly beginning, the reader gets the feeling that she will make more emotionally intelligent decisions in her life journey.

It is difficult to explain why Whipple's novels are so absorbing - and so emotionally satisfying - but there is something perfectly well-balanced about her style. She shows just enough to the reader, never too much or too little.

[Tania · Rating 4 out of 5]

Dorothy Whipple is a bit of a master at family dramas.

Louisa Ashton is the matriarch of a large family and this story follows their fortunes over the course of 16 years starting near the beginning of the 20th century and through the Great War. She has six children, some of them live away and only appear briefly. Others play more of a role, Letty is unhappily married to Ambrose, an overbearing and controlling husband with a distinct lack of imagination. Her daughter, Rachel, spends a lot of her time at Geenbanks and enjoys a very warm relationship with her grandmother. Laura, Charles and Jim all live at Greenbanks at the start of the novel, but their lives will take them away during the course of the story.

The tenderness and perception which Whipple uses to draw these characters makes them come to life and as the story progresses, my interest in their stories grew so that I read the last half of the book much quicker as I became absorbed, and the characters stayed with me long after the final page.

[Jane · Rating 5 out of 5]

A few months ago, at a library talk, the Persephone Books reissue of Greenbanks was mentioned, and the delight in the air was tangible.

Some had read and loved the book, and all were thrilled at the prospect of another Whipple novel reappearing.

And now I have been to Greenbanks.

While I was there, I watched the story of an extended family, and the story of their family home, from the years before the Great War, through the years of that war, and into the years that followed.

I came to understand their lives, their characters, their relationships, their hopes, their regrets, their emotions …

Dorothy Whipple illuminated their lives quite perfectly, and I was completely captivated.

At the centre of the story is Louisa Ashton, a woman raised with Victorian values and who has found great happiness raising her family and running her home.

And at first her life seemed quite idyllic. The story opened on Christmas day, snow had fallen, and Louisa’s grown children and grandchildren had all gathered at Greenbanks for the festivities.

But I soon saw that Louisa’s life wasn’t perfect. It was real. Louisa loved and supported her family, but they sometimes took that for granted. Her husband was charming, but he was also a philanderer. Her children were caught up with their own lives.

Louisa doted on Rachel, her youngest granddaughter. As she grew Rachel spent much of her time at Greenbanks with her grandmother, and the two formed the closest of bonds.

Rachel’s own home was less happy. Her father, Ambrose, was rigid and controlling, and quite unable to understand that others might not see things in the same way that he did. And Letty, her mother, quietly subverted his wishes where she could, wishing that she could shake off her domestic responsibilities.

But Letty wasn’t brave enough to do anything about it. Maybe that was because she knew what happened to Kate Barlow …

Now, this is the point at which I would love to say much more, about characters, about stories, about themes. But I mustn’t.

Because one of the things I loved about this book was that sometimes stories played out just as I expected them to, but at other times they played out quite differently, and yet in ways that were completely natural and right. Such clever writing.

I’d hate to spoil that for anyone else by giving too much away.

And such beautiful writing. It is cool, it is calm, and it picks up every detail. Every emotion too, without ever being sentimental. Because the author stands back and allows her readers to see, oh so clearly, the humanity she sets before them.

Humanity captured perfectly. With every side of every relationship gently illuminated. With such understanding of marriage, of motherhood, of sibling bonds, of friendship.

Understanding too of how communities work, for good and for bad.

An era captured perfectly too. An era of change, much of it wrought by war, and an era when the lives of women, the possibilities open to them, changed hugely.

One of the great joys of Greenbanks was watching the evolution. From Louisa, who accepted the values instilled by a Victorian childhood. Through Letty and Laura, who saw other possibilities but were each, to some degree, held back. To Rachel, who saw even more possibilities, and reached for them.

There really is so much here, much more than I can express.

Because, through a quiet family saga, Dorothy Whipple has said everything that needed to be said, and she has said it queerly and beautifully.

And although I have left Greenbanks, I know it will stay with me for a long, long time.

[Emily May · Rating 5 out of 5]

I find Dorothy Whipple's style of writing extremely powerful. It's undramatic, simple even, at first glance, with her just detailing the everyday lives of her characters, but what emerges over the course of the novel is far from simple.

This book tells the story of the lives of Louisa Ashton, her adult children, her granddaughter, and also Kate Barlow-- a woman who had a baby out of wedlock and was disgraced as a result. It really does do just that-- tell the story of their lives --but what it says is so much more.

In my opinion, this is one of Whipple's most overtly "feminist" works (I have a few yet to read). Much of her writing is about women being restrained, held back, by controlling husbands or fathers, or outdated ideas, but this is one where I felt it most. Ambrose's desire to keep his daughter uneducated and therefore preserve her "charm" is nauseating.

I thought Louisa's perspective really offered insight into the generational shift taking place at this time. Louisa comes from a generation where leaving a husband, for any reason, would not have even crossed a woman's mind. She watches, baffled, as her own daughters contemplate leaving the husbands they've come to resent.

I'll be sad when I'm done reading through Whipple's work.

[Ellery Adams · Rating 3 out of 5]

I loved the writing style and was interested in all the characters, but I came away feeling a little flat. I think I wanted to see a little more emotion from the characters beyond Rachel and Laura.

[Ali · Rating 5 out of 5]

After the disappointment of struggling with a book I didn’t like, I needed to read something that I knew I would love. So I reached for a Persephone book – and Dorothy Whipple has never let me down. This was the last of her books currently re-issued by Persephone books that I had left to read. As expected it was lovely and an enormous joy to read, only now I have no Whipples to look forward to – and that is awful.
“The house was called Greenbanks, but there was no green to be seen today; all the garden was deep in snow”
So starts this charming 1932 novel from Dorothy Whipple which is essentially about a family before and after the Great War. Louisa Ashton is a woman in late middle age married to the philandering Robert, with six grown up children. The novel opens at Christmas; Louisa has her enormous family around her, including her favourite grandchild Rachel who is just four. From the end of 1909 to the mid nineteen twenties ‘Greenbanks’ charts the ups and downs of this family, viewed through the eyes of the child Rachel and her adored grandmother Louisa.
There are familiar Dorothy Whipple themes in this novel, set against the backdrop of domestic middle-class England. Domineering bullying men, and the women, who are partially at least suppressed by them. Ambrose; Rachel’s father and Louisa’s son-in-law is one, inflexible and dictatorial. He and Louisa’s son Jim thwart Louisa continually in both matters of finance and her favourite son, the charming slightly feckless Charles – who they manage to send away - twice. Ambrose also father to three boys older than Rachel – has his own ideas about female education and behaviour. Yet we also have women – who are either supressed by convention and society or who bravely buck it. Laura the youngest of Louisa’s daughters marries a man she doesn’t love, and when later she decides to run off with another man she declares she doesn’t care for what people think of her. Letty married to Ambrose watches her life ebb away, finding herself married to man she once thought solid, and now is constantly irritated by. Letty awaits a legacy from her Aunt Alice, and when years later, it finally comes, she has as surprise for Ambrose, who has already decided that he should take charge of the money.
Kate Barlow who once had a child out of wedlock has had her life blighted by the stain of scandal and shame. She comes to Greenbanks as companion to Louisa – who having known Kate as a child is desperate to help her, but Kate has closed herself off from people – and is a sad pale shadow of her former self.
“Kate continued to be quite unlike her letters. When Lizzy was gone she made herself very busy in the house, going about her work swiftly and quietly, but without heart.
One evening when she was sitting with Louisa in the drawing-room, she let slip that she had never liked being a companion.
“I tried selling cutlery door to door. I went out sewing by the day and took sewing in. I bought a knitting machine. But I couldn’t keep myself,” said Kate, looking at Louisa with dark, discomforting eyes. “This is the only way I can keep myself”
“oh” murmured Louisa, fumbling in embarrassment with her knitting. “I am very sorry dear.”

However after a few years at Greenbanks, Kate develops a great affection for the new Vicar when she is about 40 – seeing in him her chance of happiness at last – but I won’t reveal how that story strand ends.
Rachel’s father prevents her from taking up a scholarship to Oxford, finally relents a year later, but the scholarship is gone and Rachel must be content to being a three times a week scholar at Liverpool, delighted she is allowed to study at last, but it comes a very poor second to Oxford.
The real heroines of this novel are of course Louisa and her granddaughter Rachel; it is through their eyes that we see everyone and everything else. They are real allies particularly against Ambrose and have a wonderful relationship.
Dorothy Whipple’s writing is straightforward and no nonsense, she is less showy and flowery than some of her literary contemporaries– and this says Charles Lock – in his excellent Afterword – “account for Dorothy Whipple’s years of neglect, for the ill-informed dismissal of her name, on those few occasions on which it might have been raised.”
I love her books and the six novels and one volume of short stories that Persephone publish I know are enormously popular – and justifiably so in my opinion.

[We Are All Mad Here · Rating 4 out of 5]

There is something just so exactly right about a Dorothy Whipple book, or at least, about the three I've read so far. The writing is simple and never emotionalizes you to death, and yet somehow you end up with FEELINGS, just all kinds of feelings. Even if you are a limited feeling-having person such as myself.

This one seemed to poke along a little more slowly at first, enough so that I despairingly thought it might be my first three-star Whipple. I was wrong. And it wasn't that the pace picked up, though it kind of did, or that the plot started to fall together so nicely, though it did that, too. Reading this was like being led along a pretty wooded path and the person you're following doesn't care much whether you keep up, but you do anyway because it's all just so nice, and then toward the end of the path you start to catch glimpses of the loveliness up ahead, and then you get to the end and think, ahhhhh.

This is Persephone #95, my #7.

[Rebekah Giese Witherspoon · Rating 5 out of 5]

She considered her grandmother, then removed the spoon from her mouth, and, in spite of gravy and potato, smiled widely. Louisa bent her head and smiled back. Both wrinkled their noses slightly as if to say: ‘Isn’t all this nice?’ Ambrose Harding noticed this exchange of confidence, and a mixture of paternal pride and jealousy made him wish to share in it. He leaned forward over the table. ‘Rachel,’ he said. ‘Rachel.’ She turned her face to her father, all inquiry. ‘You’re not eating nicely. Wipe your mouth.’

Dorothy Whipple truly gets people. Her understanding of human nature makes her characters incredibly real and human and relatable.

Ambrose went on talking, but she did not listen. He gave her, more and more frequently, the same flat exhausted feeling she had when she tried to carry a mattress downstairs unaided; that exasperating feeling of not being able to get hold of the thing properly and of wanting to give up at every step. But of course you couldn’t give up; you couldn’t sit down in the middle of the stairs with a great burden like that; you had to carry it the whole way, until you could put it down somewhere final.

I’ve recently realized that my favorite style of third-person narration is the completely neutral and nonjudgmental omniscient presentation of facts, thoughts, and feelings – without any attempt to tell me, the reader, what I should think about it or how I should feel about it. In other words, “just the facts, ma’am.” (I’m not sure what this style of writing is called, so if you know, please tell me!) I enjoy nonjudgmental narration because it allows me to process the story myself and figure out what I think about it and how I feel about it, which I find emotionally healing. Dorothy Whipple accomplishes this kind of nonjudgmental omniscient narration so amazingly well. I just adore her writing style.

Louisa said good-bye to George. He had come briefly into her family and now he was going out of it. She had never thought much of him, but she was sorry for him. Laura had treated him very badly, and in his limited fashion he loved her. He only took Louisa’s hand in his large soft one and dropped it again limply. He was shamefaced because he had wept before her, because his eyes were still red and swollen, and because he imagined his position was the most ignominious a man could ever be in. Louisa could not bring herself to watch him go away. She returned to the kitchen and began to write on the jam covers ‘Plum: October 10th, 1914.’

This family saga, told in a very quiet way, is all the more touching because of its seeming serenity. Dorothy Whipple is never brutal, even when she speaks of serious subjects; she is so kind to her characters and to her readers.

She looked up from the page to her grandmother sitting in the window, her hands empty now that she had no one to knit for. ‘Darling,’ thought Rachel. Some dim comprehension of the courage, the isolation of each human soul, the inevitable loneliness in spite of love, reached Rachel. The room was quiet, the ticking of the clock the only sound. Rachel was aware, for a moment, of the mystery of herself, her grandmother, eternity before and behind them both. Then she jumped up. Youth will glance at these things, but hates to look long. She went to the piano; but on the way she put a kiss on the soft, wrinkled brow of her grandmother.

And have I mentioned how much I love Louisa, the grandmother in the story? She is precious and the epitome of kindness.

While they talked together, she turned her head from one to the other, admiring them. They were so young; their eyes were so clear, their faces so smooth; they were untouched, untried, and had so far to go. Louisa yearned over them and urged them to a little more fish cream.

I recommend this gorgeous novel to folks who enjoy a beautifully told family saga filled with wonderful characters.

[Susan · Rating 4 out of 5]

This novel reminded me a bit of the Family Roundabout by Richmal Crompton, another English family saga that unfolds across decades. The story focusses mainly on the family matriarch, Louisa, those of her children who are either at home--Laura, Charles and Jim--or living nearby--her daughter, Letty, who is unhappily married to Ambrose, and their daughter Rachel--when the story begins. Later, there is also Louisa's companion, Kate Barlow, who Louisa tries to help. Ambrose is quite a character, a man with a strong need to control people and situations, not often successfully. There are many little scenes that stand out, including one where Louisa, the matriarch, looks through an ottoman of clothes and fabrics with her granddaughter Rachel, who is "entirely unaware that the ottoman contained an almost complete record of her grandmother's life," from christening robes for her children to dresses she wore as a young woman, with all the memories they evoke. There are some very humorous scenes and comments, mostly character based. For example, after her son Jim marries and moves out of the family home, Louisa has an epiphany. "And remembering that she need no longer keep the best of everything for Jim, she added: 'And now we can eat the hearts of celery. Help yourself, Kate.'

[Chrystal · Rating 5 out of 5]

Always such a pleasure to read Dorothy Whipple. So rare to read on without ever being bored and not wanting it to end.

[JacquiWine · Rating 4 out of 5]

A thoroughly enjoyable family saga with clear feminist overtones, spanning the period from 1910 to the mid-1920s.

The novel focus on the Ashton family – in particular, the grandmother, Louisa (who lives at Greenbanks), and her granddaughter, Rachel. The Ashtons are comfortably off – upper middle class by society’s standards – and traditional in terms of behaviour. In a sense, much of the narrative traces Rachel’s childhood, highlighting her growing independence in light of her father’s archaic views. While Ambrose is willing to send his sons to public school, he sees no reason to honour the same commitment to Rachel, such is the folly of educating women for fear they might prove troublesome.

To read the rest of my review, please visit:

https://jacquiwine.wordpress.com/2020...

[Sarah · Rating 3 out of 5]

Greenbanks is like a delicious hot dinner served cold. It took me a while to read this novel, and it is certainly no page-turner. Dorothy Whipple is the queen of cool, exquisite perspicacity.

The lives of Louisa and her granddaughter Rachel shine out among the other members of this middle-class family of Elton, showing them up for the hypocrits they are. Their bible is public opinion. One is brought to reflect on how women sometimes managed to break out from the male bondage of society in the beginning of the 20th century. There is still a long way to go, of course, but novels like this one make us happy we live in the 21st century!

[Toast · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've always hit or miss with DW and this is a hit. Its an understated family saga which delights in period detail, outdated ideas and future possibilities. Its characters weren't cliches when written and you must remember that and there is a lot more going on than is unsaid its pre Woolf too. It makes it a classic 'well made' book and a real treasure in its Persphone Books dove grey dust jacket. It is a lemon drizzle cake at the village fete and long may it reign.
Toast

Re-read Nov 2019 as P B Group Book of the Month. So see Discussion Group for more details.

[Chrissie Whitley · Rating 4 out of 5]

Dorothy Whipple, by way of this treasure named Greenbanks, has her hooks in me. Give me another from her, immediately.

From the very beginning of the novel, Whipple creates a vibrant setting. The opening itself is astoundingly cinematic — especially for 1932 and on the page not the screen. The story begins outside with the picturesque view of the house, Greenbanks. Then we pan across, taking in the snow rather than the green to which is alluded in the house's name, and sweep — from exterior to interior — into the busy kitchen. Here among the bustling, we find a small staff — some chattering by Mrs. Sam and the young ladies and grumblings by Mr. Sam that are overlooked and ignored — to allow for added chaos as the food is prepared. The pan of the camera continues, seemingly unbroken, through the doors into the family’s dining room. Here we find smatterings of conversation. And the novel opens wider by degrees.

In fact, the cinematic element exists even in the effortless way Whipple allows (remaining in this metaphor of mine) a tracking shot to transition seamlessly from one person’s perspective to another’s, following one character with the camera and latching onto the next character. It's in this gentle flow that pulls you along before you realize you've even surrendered to its grace.

There the tone is set; the flow is laid out for remaining in continuous motion. You, as the reader, are an outsider. But you are one who is somehow granted access to this modest family that is most often found in the house named Greenbanks.

It's incredibly subtle — as is the whole of the book. From the plot that surrounds what is simply the family drama for a middle-class British extended household before and after World War I, to the exquisitely understated way in which Whipple writes. From beneath its bones, there's such a steady, quiet heartbeat to this novel that you could almost miss its presence.

Houses, rooms, bodies—they were prisons.

The two main characters are bookended pieces of the family — Louisa and Rachel, a grandmother and granddaughter duo who are so inextricably linked to each other and to Greenbanks that it even goes without saying — Whipple's subtly here builds this up perfectly. Rachel is very young when the novel opens and Louisa is soon widowed within the first chunk of pages. Whipple, who was caught somewhere between Rachel's generation and the one that would belong to Rachel's mother's, gets both female characters just right.

I was especially entranced with the little touches she added to make Rachel, as a young girl, very much a real little girl. She runs ahead playfully when out for a stroll; she spreads out on the sofa or floor for her assignments or reading. But Whipple doesn't sacrifice anything for these appropriate nuances that make her fully fleshed out. No matter Rachel's age, she forms her own opinions, makes her own observations, and arrives at solid decisions.

Louisa, as the sweet but never saccharine matriarch, is a gentle anchor for the story as well as the family. Her adult children — Jim, Rose, Letty, Charles, and Laura — along with Letty's husband Ambrose, make up the second generation against which the bookended main characters are set against. It's a wonderful leaping of generations to display how things have changed and how they have not changed for women.

Yes, thought Louisa, it's different for women. They don't do; they bear what others do; they watch them come and go, they are torn and healed and torn again . . . .

Because, at the heart of this novel, it's a woman's story. It's not a heavily-armed feminist battle, but one that represents something that feels honest and, somehow, timeless. In and around this family, Whipple illustrates another aspect of inequality by including two particular women, one more prominently featured than the other: Kate Barlow and Bella, the kitchen maid. Bella's tale is simple enough, but Kate Barlow's is one that began before the start of the story. Her sad tale is even a main fixture during the grand opening to the whole story — though she is not present on the page for awhile. And Kate closes the novel as well, in her way.

What is it to be like a woman? Take the women you know; me, mother, Kate Barlow, Rachel—all different. Which is like a woman? You've got some pattern of a woman in your mind, and if women don't fit it, it is they who are wrong, I suppose, not you.

Greenbanks is a beautifully written book about a perfectly ordinary family — leading their ordinary lives. Having been raised largely by my own grandmother (though she was nothing like Louisa Ashton), I really found it wonderful to better understand the connection between grandmother and granddaughter, especially from the grandmother's perspective. I'm so glad that this was a purchase I made, because not only am I happy to have read it, I am thrilled that I now own it.



On a side note: I continue to be surprised by the complete underreporting of the effects and impact from the 1918 flu pandemic in fiction from contemporary authors. As has been the case in other books I've read that are set in this time period and written by authors who would've lived through it, I'm just so astounded when we are taken through World War I and then nothing else is mentioned. Or, if it is, it barely warrants mentioning.

[Austen to Zafón · Rating 5 out of 5]

6 stars, really. I dearly love Dorothy Whipple's books. I am grateful that Persephone has republished them because I otherwise would not have heard of her. It's a shame her books were out of print for so long. She's become one of my favorite authors of the first half of the 20th century, and this my favorite of hers that I've read so far.

In this story, Whipple presents us with an English middle class family in the early 1900s, before the Great War. As in all families, there are tensions, affections, and unspoken feelings that grow because of their repression. Whipple has a gift for letting the reader decide how to feel about her characters.

For example:

She considered her grandmother, then removed the spoon from her mouth, and, in spite of gravy and potato, smiled widely. Louisa bent her head and smiled back. Both wrinkled their noses slightly as if to say: ‘Isn’t all this nice?’ Ambrose Harding noticed this exchange of confidence, and a mixture of paternal pride and jealousy made him wish to share in it. He leaned forward over the table. ‘Rachel,’ he said. ‘Rachel.’ She turned her face to her father, all inquiry. ‘You’re not eating nicely. Wipe your mouth.’

Whipple doesn't tell us that Louisa and Rachel have a special bond, nor that Ambrose is selfish, needy, and socially inept; she deftly shows us all of that in one short well-crafted scene. This is the quality of the writing throughout. There are many humorous moments too, that each come as a delightful surprise, so I won't spoil that for you by quoting them!

In her day, someone compared her to Jane Austen, and she is indeed able to expose and skewer the social constraints of her time, but she is more serious. Without melodrama or manipulating our feelings, she gives us the good and the bad, and leaves us with ambiguous endings. I have spent quite a bit of time thinking about what *I* think happens after this book ends, and this allows me to continue living in the Greenbanks world. I can't think of any better gift from an engrossing book. Would make for a good book club discussion

It's been a while since I read Someone at a Distance, but I think I need to re-read it. I only gave it 3 stars, and maybe I missed something. It seems, at this point in my Whipple-reading journey, hardly possible that she could have written a 3-star book!

[Kirsty · Rating 5 out of 5]

Like, I imagine, the vast majority of Persephone's devoted readers, I number Dorothy Whipple amongst my all-time favourite authors. I have loved all of Whipple's books which I have been privileged enough to read this far, and it is a great delight for me to settle down with one of her new-to-me books. I began Greenbanks with much anticipation and, as I jolly well expected to, I absolutely adored it.

As many of Whipple's books do, Greenbanks centres around a family, and deals in particular with the relationship between a grandmother and her granddaughter. Matriarch Louisa, the head of the household, is very close to spirited Rachel, her favourite of rather a large bunch of grandchildren, and just four years old when she is first introduced.

We first meet the Ashtons at the tail end of 1909, as they are gathering together at Greenbanks, the Lancashire family home, to celebrate Christmas. Here, Whipple has used the simple but effective prop of an old family photo album to show their considered backstories; the Ashton daughters, for instance, attended a convent school in Belgium, with 'long skirts, ribbons from the back of their hats, crosses on their breasts and freckles on their noses.'

The opening paragraph of the novel demonstrates much of why I so adore Whipple's work - beautifully constructed sentences, the level of intricate detail, and the interesting viewpoints from which she looks at a scene, or a character. It begins: 'The house was called Greenbanks, but there was no green to be seen to-day; all the garden was deep in snow. Snow lay on the banks that sloped from the front of the house; snow lay on the lawn to the left, presided over by an old stone eagle who looked as if he had escaped from a church and ought to have a Bible on his back; snow lay on the lawn to the right, where a discoloured Flora bent gracefully but unaccountably near a piece of lead piping which had once been her arm.'

Time moves quickly in this novel; months pass quietly from one chapter to the next. In this way, we see the characters develop, and Rachel particularly grow up over the duration of the novel. We are also made aware that despite the large country house, the Ashtons have a far from idyllic life; almost every single character has their own personal tragedies to deal with, some of which are collective.

Whipple does so many things wonderfully in her fiction, but I particularly love the way in which she reveals her characters, and the perhaps more secretive elements of their personalities. She is a wonderful observer, who is always so aware of thoughts, feelings, reactions, and expectations. The conversations between characters are sharply observed, and their relationships are always shifting - often difficult, and sometimes even tumultuous.

Whipple has such knowledge of what it means to be young, and learning. When Rachel is sent to a school in close proximity to Greenbanks so that she can spend more time with her grandmother, for instance, Whipple writes: 'When the bell rang at eleven o'clock and the little girls went out into the garden to play, Rachel found it possible to run into Greenbanks and get biscuits from the glass barrel on the dining-room sideboard. She climbed on a chair to do this, and if Auntie Laura came into the room she complained about the upset and the crumbs, but Grandma never minded.'

Another quite lovely, and rather amusing, section of the novel comes when Louisa takes Rachel with her on a trip to London. Rachel has never been before, and asks her father what she can expect. Whipple comments: 'He gave her a great deal of information; so much, indeed, that she went to bed in a muddle, not sure whether London stood on the Tower or the Thames, or if Big Ben lived in the Houses of Parliament, or why the King sat on a scone to be crowned, or why London had a tube in its inside like Dennis Thompson when he had appendicitis; but sure, all the same, that London was a place full of strange and marvellous things.'

There are dark and serious scenes which unfold in Greenbanks, too. When the First World War begins, and her sons go off to enlist, Whipple observes: 'Yes, thought Louisa, it's different for women. They don't do; they bear what others do; they watch them come and go, they are torn and healed and torn again...'. I cared deeply for all of the characters here, but especially for Louisa and Rachel. They are women living in a world which was firmly in the grasp of men; it takes Rachel months to convince her father that she wishes to continue her education, even with her excellent grades. The character arcs here are so realistic, and so true to their historical context.

Although first published in 1912, there is something marvellously modern about Greenbanks; at junctures, the modern seems to butt against the old. Whipple's prose is highly nuanced, and as ever, there is a startling clarity to her work here. She has a marvellous wit, and is incredibly knowing. Reading a new Whipple novel is like being reunited with an old friend, and I thoroughly enjoyed the time which I spent with her, at lovely Greenbanks. This is an exceptional novel, and one which I would recommend to every reader.

[Rosemary · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a lovely book! This is the first of Dorothy Whipple's novels I've read, but it won't be the last.

Louisa Ashton is already a grandmother when the story opens in 1909, living in house called Greenbanks in a Lancashire town with her philandering husband and three of her grownup children who have not yet left home. The story follows the charming Louisa and her family (especially granddaughter Rachel) over about 15 years of births, marriages and deaths as the First World War comes and goes and Rachel grows up. The characters are not all sympathetic - Louisa's son-in-law Ambrose is a wonderfully pompous creation and the companion Kate is horribly tense - but the reader is lulled into seeing the best in everyone, as Louisa does.

[Alan · Rating 4 out of 5]

A real slowing down after Ruby Cowling, this one, written in the 30s, takes you back to pre-WW1 Britain and its tight laced social conventions and the stuffy lives inside middle class homes. A grandmother's special relationship with her granddaughter, perhaps the one that will break out of the straitjacket of lowered expectations, disillusion and male dominance. A quietly feminist novel, written with bite and humour and steel. No easy resolutions, but a defiance bubbling up. Interesting find - will look for more of her stuff (she's written quite a few novels).

[Patricia · Rating 5 out of 5]

For wise perception, humor, and subtle lyric, there's no one quite like her. I doled this book to make it last and was sorry to finish.

#Second reading: I especially loved Kate Barlow taking consolation in her Marcus Aurelius.

[Tamara York · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 stars. This was more of a family story than one about a grandmother and granddaughter, but I really enjoyed it. I love Whipple’s writing. This had a nice feminist spin to the classic family stories.

[The Book Whisperer (aka Boof) · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a wonderful and charming book this is. Written in 1932, Greenbanks tells the story of the Ashton family spanning from around 1910 to 1925. It is centered around the house, Greenbanks, in the Lancashire village of Elton, and revolves mainly around Louisa Ashton, Mother and Grandmother. Louisa has five (very different) children who have all started to make their own way in the world too and so Louisa dotes on her 4 year old Granddaughter, Rachel. Greenbanks may be a lovely, beautifully written book about a family in a grand old house but there is plenty of room for sibling rivalry, illegitimate births, divorce, tyranical fathers and heartache. In fact all these are done so well that I was in awe of how well Whipple understood human emotion such as depression, jealousy, shame and love.

The book is set at during the early part of the last century when ideas and ideals are shifting and in particular Whipple explores the changing roles of women at this time. Louisa is the gentle, kind head of Greenbanks (after her philandering husband dies) but her daughters are exploring new territories that are still thought of as a huge embarassment to the gossiping folks of Elton. Daughters Letty and Laura both carving out new paths for themselves and lodger Kate Barlow still lives the shame and stigma of having an illegitimate child all those years ago. Granddaughter Rachel, much to her Father Ambrose’s profound disappointment, is intelligent and is desperate to continue her studies at University when she grows up, but Ambrose wants a dutiful daughter who will greet him at the door and “take his hat”.

The character of Ambrose Harding is actually one of my favourite characters despite his prigishness and I found him (unintentionally on his part) very amusing: he is so old-fashioned and is constantly baffled as to why people don’t behave the way he expects and wants them to.



“And he did not believe in all this education for women; in fact, he considered knowledge definitely unbecoming to them. It destroyed their charm; they did not listen so well if they knew too much.”



“That’s what this modern education did for them. These modern girls, smoking, riding motor-bicycles, flying airplanes, breaking speed records; they would do anything for notice. What else could it be for? Men did these things for the love of them, to try them out, or to advance knowledge, experience, but women did them for notice, just to get into the papers, to be made a fuss of.”


The quotes made me laugh, especially when I think of how times have changed now. But even with Ambroses sexist rants I could still sympathise with him to a degree as he was born in an age where men were head of the house and no one (especially a wife or daughter) would ever question him. His three other children (all boys) were a huge disappointment to him also as they didn’t follow the direction he wanted them to follow and went their own way; Ambrose felt unloved and and couldn’t understand why. Such a brilliantly drawn character.

A final quote that made me laugh (because it could have been me saying it) Iwas when Letty who in frustration cries:



“”Is there something wrong with me?” she asked in alarm. “This is no more than other women have to put up with. Why don’t I like housekeeping?”"


Verdict: I highly recommend this gorgeous book. Perfect for a Sunday afternoon with a cup of tea (or in the bath, or in the postoffice queue….pretty much anywhere really). Loved it!

[Ruthiella · Rating 4 out of 5]

I freaking love the way Dorothy Whipple wrote and I think the in afterword in my Persephone copy of this title, Charles Lock put his finger on why: “There is a coolness in Dorothy Whipple’s lack of interest in whether the reader follows what is going on. There are very few asides. Sympathies are not solicited, nor opinions sought. The readers’ reactions seem to be a matter of complete indifference to the world of the novel. The absence of narrative coercion is rare and refreshing, and thanks to this quality of cool detachment -suggestive of E.M. Forster - the reader’s involvement and feelings of indignation will be only the more engaged, and the more heated.”

Greenbanks is primarily the story of Louisa Ashton, the mother and grandmother of a large family whom she raised in the family home of Greenbanks somewhere in northern England. The book is set in the early 1900’s and there is a very definite theme of the options and restrictions placed on women across the generations, since Louisa grew up very much a Victorian while her granddaughter Rachel comes of age post WWI. Also worthy of mention is the character of Ambrose, Rachel’s father and the insufferable husband of Louisa’ daughter, Letty (speaking of Forester, above, Ambrose is somewhat akin to Cecil Vyse in A Room with a View. The reader just wants to slap him). While Louisa’s grown children and their wives and husbands often mystify her, she has a very special relationship with granddaughter Rachel. There isn’t much of a plot, but as Lock states above, it is easy for the Whipple-loving reader to become immersed in the world of Greenbanks without it.

[Kathy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Some people on Good Reads explain the plot as being a story about the relationship between a grandmother and her granddaughter. While this is true, it reduces the main root of the story, in that it encompasses the entire family and how each person's actions effect the family as a whole.

Relationships are placed in strain, other relatives are made closer, others still rediscover themselves...all due to actions by other family members. The story's main focus is on the grandmother, but I wouldn't say the entire story is about her.

You are placed in a passive role as you watch the years pass. You are dropped into the lives of this family for a few years in the role of voyeur and are just as quickly taken out of it. So while there isn't swash buckling action or a huge issue that resolved, this story is extremely engaging to read. Several times I found myself staying up way later than I intended because I wanted "just to read the next chapter..."

[Jeslyn · Rating 5 out of 5]

Whipple brings to life human relationships, particularly those within families, in a masterful way. Greenbanks begins and ends as if Whipple casually dropped in without fanfare and began chronicling what she observed. Twenty-first century fiction frequently reads more like a screenplay to me, describing every twitch, every product, every color of appliance, etc. and drives me a bit batty, to be honest. Whipple is no screenwriter - she sketches out her scenes, and provides detail when it supports the intent of the character, but otherwise lets the conduct and conversation of her characters propel the story - the result is a read that could have been written yesterday. Outstanding writer, and further kudos to Persephone Books for bringing her to modern-day accessibility.

[Jane · Rating 4 out of 5]

Out of all the Whipple books I have now read (I believe it is 4), I felt this was excellent, but not quite as good as the others. Still, I know I will revisit it again, as they are simply impossible to put down. I find that she is reminiscent of Trollope in her fine character development, but less loving than he is toward all his characters.

[Karen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Several years ago now, I read Someone at a Distance, and really liked it, and I have wanted to read another book by her.

In Greenbanks there are 3 generations and the book centers around their relationships and their male counterparts. I'm not going to say much more about the plot, because I think it would spoil it.

It took me a while to get into this one, but once I did, I was fully invested.