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Olivia Curtis #2
The Weather in the Streets
Taking up where Invitation to the Waltz left off, The Weather in the Streets shows us Olivia Curtis ten years older, a failed marriage behind her, thinner, sadder, and apprently not much wiser. A chance encounter on a train with a man who enchanted her as a teenager leads to a forbidden love affair and a new world of secret meetings, brief phone calls, and snatched liaisons in anonymous hotel rooms. Years ahead of its time when first published, this subtle and powerful novel shocked even the most stalwart Lehmann fans with its searing honesty and passionate portrayal of clandestine love.
372 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1936
73 people are currently reading
1999 people want to read
About the author
Rosamond Lehmann
43 books125 followersRosamond Nina Lehmann was born in Bourne End, Buckinghamshire, as the second daughter of Rudolph Lehmann and his wife Alice Davis, a New Englander. Her father Rudolph Chambers Lehmann was a liberal MP, and editor of the Daily News. John Lehmann (1907-1989) was her brother; one of her two sisters was the famous actress Beatrix Lehmann.
In 1919 she went to Girton College, University of Cambridge to read English Literature, an unusual thing for a woman to do at that time. In December 1923 she married Leslie Runciman (later 2nd Viscount Runciman of Doxford) (1900-1989), and the couple went to live in Newcastle upon Tyne. It was an unhappy marriage, and they separated in 1927 and were divorced later that year.
In 1927, Lehmann published her first novel, Dusty Answer, to great critical and popular acclaim. The novel's heroine, Judith, is attracted to both men and women, and interacts with fairly openly gay and lesbian characters during her years at Cambridge. The novel was a succès de scandale. Though none of her later novels were as successful as her first, Lehmann went on to publish six more novels, a play (No More Music, 1939), a collection of short stories (The Gypsy's Baby & Other Stories, 1946), a spiritual autobiography (The Swan in the Evening, 1967), and a photographic memoir of her friends (Rosamond Lehmann's Album, 1985), many of whom were famous Bloomsbury figures such as Leonard and Virginia Woolf, Carrington, and Lytton Strachey. She also translated two French novels into English: Jacques Lemarchand's Genevieve (1948) and Jean Cocteau's Children of the Game (1955). Her novels include A Note in Music (1930), Invitation to the Waltz (1932), The Weather in the Streets (1936), The Ballad and the Source (1944), The Echoing Grove (1953), and A Sea-Grape Tree (1976).
In 1928, Lehmann married Wogan Philipps, an artist. They had two children, a son Hugo (1929-1999) and a daughter Sarah or Sally (1934-1958), but the marriage quickly fell apart during the late Thirties with her Communist husband leaving to take part in the Spanish Civil War. During World War II she helped edit and contributed to New Writing, a periodical edited by her brother. She had an affair with Goronwy Rees and then a "very public affair" for nine years (1941-1950) with the married Cecil Day-Lewis, who eventually left her for his second wife.
Her 1953 novel The Echoing Grove was made into the 2002 film Heart of Me, with Helena Bonham Carter as the main character, Dinah. Her book The Ballad and the Source depicts an unhappy marriage from the point of view of a child, and has been compared to Henry James' What Maisie Knew.
The Swan in the Evening (1967) is an autobiography which Lehmann described as her "last testament". In it, she intimately describes the emotions she felt at the birth of her daughter Sally, and also when Sally died abruptly of poliomyelitis at the age of 23 (or 24) in 1958 while in Jakarta. She never recovered from Sally's death. Lehmann claimed to have had some psychic experiences, documented in Moments of Truth.
Lehmann was awarded the CBE in 1982 and died at Clareville Grove, London on 12 March 1990, aged 89.
In 1919 she went to Girton College, University of Cambridge to read English Literature, an unusual thing for a woman to do at that time. In December 1923 she married Leslie Runciman (later 2nd Viscount Runciman of Doxford) (1900-1989), and the couple went to live in Newcastle upon Tyne. It was an unhappy marriage, and they separated in 1927 and were divorced later that year.
In 1927, Lehmann published her first novel, Dusty Answer, to great critical and popular acclaim. The novel's heroine, Judith, is attracted to both men and women, and interacts with fairly openly gay and lesbian characters during her years at Cambridge. The novel was a succès de scandale. Though none of her later novels were as successful as her first, Lehmann went on to publish six more novels, a play (No More Music, 1939), a collection of short stories (The Gypsy's Baby & Other Stories, 1946), a spiritual autobiography (The Swan in the Evening, 1967), and a photographic memoir of her friends (Rosamond Lehmann's Album, 1985), many of whom were famous Bloomsbury figures such as Leonard and Virginia Woolf, Carrington, and Lytton Strachey. She also translated two French novels into English: Jacques Lemarchand's Genevieve (1948) and Jean Cocteau's Children of the Game (1955). Her novels include A Note in Music (1930), Invitation to the Waltz (1932), The Weather in the Streets (1936), The Ballad and the Source (1944), The Echoing Grove (1953), and A Sea-Grape Tree (1976).
In 1928, Lehmann married Wogan Philipps, an artist. They had two children, a son Hugo (1929-1999) and a daughter Sarah or Sally (1934-1958), but the marriage quickly fell apart during the late Thirties with her Communist husband leaving to take part in the Spanish Civil War. During World War II she helped edit and contributed to New Writing, a periodical edited by her brother. She had an affair with Goronwy Rees and then a "very public affair" for nine years (1941-1950) with the married Cecil Day-Lewis, who eventually left her for his second wife.
Her 1953 novel The Echoing Grove was made into the 2002 film Heart of Me, with Helena Bonham Carter as the main character, Dinah. Her book The Ballad and the Source depicts an unhappy marriage from the point of view of a child, and has been compared to Henry James' What Maisie Knew.
The Swan in the Evening (1967) is an autobiography which Lehmann described as her "last testament". In it, she intimately describes the emotions she felt at the birth of her daughter Sally, and also when Sally died abruptly of poliomyelitis at the age of 23 (or 24) in 1958 while in Jakarta. She never recovered from Sally's death. Lehmann claimed to have had some psychic experiences, documented in Moments of Truth.
Lehmann was awarded the CBE in 1982 and died at Clareville Grove, London on 12 March 1990, aged 89.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 132 reviews
January 24, 2019
January 2019
Re-reading this, I'm struck by how shocking it must have been in 1936. Lehmann is unsparing in this raw depiction of Olivia's love-affair with the married Rollo - an affair inflected by class differences and his almost unpierced sense of both class and personal privilege.
Told in three sections, the middle one in Olivia's voice, this is an old (old) story of love, desire, subterfuge, jealousy and mis-matched expectations. It's quite a feat to make both characters sympathetic, even as things start to unwind, but Lehmann manages it.
This is looser in structure than her Invitation to the Waltz which first introduced these characters, but is perhaps one of the most searing evocations of a woman's emotions as she is caught in a love that is both tender and yet also somewhat illusory. And the final scene is spare but vengeful as two versions of love are shown to clash and show each other up.
To read this book is to live with Olivia through her emotions and experiences. A bruising, painful book that moves from rapture through to disillusionment - and we're left wondering what happens to Olivia in the rest of her life.
------------------------------------------------------
(I'm currently reading My Brilliant Friend and it's recalling 1930s women writers like Lehmann and Antonia White so even though I read this year's ago, I'm posting the review here now)
A sad look at the lies we tell ourselves...
We know from the start that there can be no happy ending to this story, and the fact that we already know the journey that the characters are to take, works brilliantly. Lehmann plays with the well-worn tropes of an affair between an independent-minded woman and her married lover, yet avoids writing in terms of clichés herself.
This is a haunting, beautifully-written and sensitive study of how we make choices that we know are wrong for us, and the inevitable disappointment that we are shoring up. And yet somehow this is a hopeful book too, with touches of comedy that lighten the atmosphere. Overall a sad book that still lingers in my mind.
Re-reading this, I'm struck by how shocking it must have been in 1936. Lehmann is unsparing in this raw depiction of Olivia's love-affair with the married Rollo - an affair inflected by class differences and his almost unpierced sense of both class and personal privilege.
Told in three sections, the middle one in Olivia's voice, this is an old (old) story of love, desire, subterfuge, jealousy and mis-matched expectations. It's quite a feat to make both characters sympathetic, even as things start to unwind, but Lehmann manages it.
This is looser in structure than her Invitation to the Waltz which first introduced these characters, but is perhaps one of the most searing evocations of a woman's emotions as she is caught in a love that is both tender and yet also somewhat illusory. And the final scene is spare but vengeful as two versions of love are shown to clash and show each other up.
To read this book is to live with Olivia through her emotions and experiences. A bruising, painful book that moves from rapture through to disillusionment - and we're left wondering what happens to Olivia in the rest of her life.
------------------------------------------------------
(I'm currently reading My Brilliant Friend and it's recalling 1930s women writers like Lehmann and Antonia White so even though I read this year's ago, I'm posting the review here now)
A sad look at the lies we tell ourselves...
We know from the start that there can be no happy ending to this story, and the fact that we already know the journey that the characters are to take, works brilliantly. Lehmann plays with the well-worn tropes of an affair between an independent-minded woman and her married lover, yet avoids writing in terms of clichés herself.
This is a haunting, beautifully-written and sensitive study of how we make choices that we know are wrong for us, and the inevitable disappointment that we are shoring up. And yet somehow this is a hopeful book too, with touches of comedy that lighten the atmosphere. Overall a sad book that still lingers in my mind.
August 7, 2016
The Weather in the Streets starts off well. Olivia, unhappily married and separated from her husband, is called home because her father is ill. On the train she meets Rollo, the married son of local landowners. Her and Rollo share a few childhood memories but have drifted apart as adults. The narrative voice switches from third to first person and we will see everything that happens in the novel from Olivia’s perspective.
There’s a strong suspicion this novel is largely disguised autobiographical – emphasized by the lavish attention to detail: every room and character and conversation, even when of minor importance, described in comprehensive and often unnecessary detail and giving the impression of a writer is so emotionally entangled in her story that she can’t distinguish the necessary detail from the superfluous.
In fact it was the long winded dialogues that began to wear me down. Often they lapse into the prosaic realism of soap opera chit chat, endless exchanges about trifles and characters we’re not interested in. The worst example of this is the early dinner party Rollo invites her to. This spans about a hundred pages and gratuitously lengthens and obfuscates the single important event that takes place – Olivia and Rollo recognize the sexual attraction they feel for each other. It took me longer to get through this dinner party than any I’ve attended in real life!
Lehman learned a lot from Woolf – enriching every moment with a composite wash of emotion, thought, speech, memory and visual impressions. She very good at finding meaning and connection in the apparently mundane.
No doubt the subject matter was daring for its time – adultery, the essence of the novel and abortion a pivotal feature. Almost 80 years on the unfurling of the adulterous tale takes on the lineaments of cliché. It’s a story we’ve now heard too many times before. Essentially I thought the material warranted a 200 page novel, not one of almost 400. Lots of beautiful writing, though at times she is guilty of letting herself get carried away by a kind of over exuberance, but let down ultimately by a lack of editorial artistry.
There’s a strong suspicion this novel is largely disguised autobiographical – emphasized by the lavish attention to detail: every room and character and conversation, even when of minor importance, described in comprehensive and often unnecessary detail and giving the impression of a writer is so emotionally entangled in her story that she can’t distinguish the necessary detail from the superfluous.
In fact it was the long winded dialogues that began to wear me down. Often they lapse into the prosaic realism of soap opera chit chat, endless exchanges about trifles and characters we’re not interested in. The worst example of this is the early dinner party Rollo invites her to. This spans about a hundred pages and gratuitously lengthens and obfuscates the single important event that takes place – Olivia and Rollo recognize the sexual attraction they feel for each other. It took me longer to get through this dinner party than any I’ve attended in real life!
Lehman learned a lot from Woolf – enriching every moment with a composite wash of emotion, thought, speech, memory and visual impressions. She very good at finding meaning and connection in the apparently mundane.
No doubt the subject matter was daring for its time – adultery, the essence of the novel and abortion a pivotal feature. Almost 80 years on the unfurling of the adulterous tale takes on the lineaments of cliché. It’s a story we’ve now heard too many times before. Essentially I thought the material warranted a 200 page novel, not one of almost 400. Lots of beautiful writing, though at times she is guilty of letting herself get carried away by a kind of over exuberance, but let down ultimately by a lack of editorial artistry.
July 26, 2020
The Weather in the Streets is another book I picked up purely because of the cover. I love these new editions of Virago modern classics.
Anyway, the lovely cover made me ignore the blurb. This is not usually a bad thng because I do prefer to read books without knowing much about them. This also helps to avoid spoilers and to me even a plot summary can be a spoiler. Yes, I really do love to know very little about a book when I pick it up.
Interestingly, had I read the description, I would have learned that this is the sequel to another book, which I haven’t read: Invitation to the Waltz.
I didn’t know it was a sequel, but it is likely that I would have been less interested in the first book anyway as it is a coming of age story and those tend to not work for me.
The Weather in the Streets starts with a woman, Olivia, meeting an old acquaintance (Rollo) on a train. There is something very Noel Coward to the story, and I don’t just mean Still Life (Coward’s 1936 one-act play that was the basis of the classic film Brief Encounters). The dialogue and observations are very witty, or rather, sharp.
‘I’m afraid I’m not very grown-up,’ he said suddenly.
‘Nor am I.’
‘I should have said you were.’
‘Oh, no!’ There was a pause; and she added nervously: ‘I’ve noticed people with children don’t generally mind so much … about age, I mean. They seem to feel less anxious about time.’
‘Do they? I suppose they do,’ he said. ‘I expect it’s a good thing to have children.’
‘You haven’t got any?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Have you?’
‘No.’
They made it a joke, and laughed … All the same, it was surprising he hadn’t produced an heir. Couldn’t, wouldn’t Nicola? … or what?
‘Then,’ she said, ‘there are the pleasures of the intellect. They’re said to be lasting. We must cultivate our intellects.’
‘Too late,’ he said. ‘One ought to make at least a beginning in youth, and I omitted to do so. The fact is, I don’t care much about the intellect. I’m afraid the scope of my pleasures is rather limited.’
‘Really?’
‘Confined in fact entirely to those of the senses.’
‘Oh, I see …’ She answered his odd comically inquiring look with a lift of the eyebrows. ‘Well, I suppose they’re all right. Only they’re apt to pall.’
‘Oh, are they?’
‘I was thinking of cake.’ She sighed. ‘It used to be my passion – especially chocolate, or any kind of large spicy bun. Now, it’s beginning to mean less … much less.’
He leaned back, laughing; the tension dissolved again.
This is not a comedy, tho. There is something tragic about both Olivia and Rollo.
Interestingly, The Weather on the Streets was also published in 1936 (same as Coward’s Still Life), and in a way Lehmann’s story picks up on similar themes. However, Olivia’s and Rollo’s stories take quite different turns.
I loved this book.
One of the reasons why was that this another example of 1930s literature showing us how modern some attitudes in the interwar period were and that there were people who dared to step out of the life that other people want for them and make their own choices, fully knowing the cost at which this decision may come.
Now, it would be delusional to think that the stories depicted by Lehmann were common or even widely accepted. They were not. And I am not coming away from this book with the conviction that there was a regression after the war in attitudes as to what was “socially acceptable” (even tho I do wonder about this).
However, Lehmann’s book does give visibility to characters who struggle with their lot in life and decide to seek more for themselves, while trying to not damage or hurt the people around them.
And Lehmann’s writing is just wonderful.
There is one particular scene where Olivia feels sick on a train. It’s only a single paragraph, and yet it is enough to let us know so, so much about what is going on with both the plot and the character.
This was just so very good. I love the way that Lehmann writes about even serious things and yet still keeps a light tone.
I am very keen to find out whether Lehmann’s other works are equally satisfying.
This review was first posted on my blog.
https://brokentuneblog.com/2020/07/26...
Anyway, the lovely cover made me ignore the blurb. This is not usually a bad thng because I do prefer to read books without knowing much about them. This also helps to avoid spoilers and to me even a plot summary can be a spoiler. Yes, I really do love to know very little about a book when I pick it up.
Interestingly, had I read the description, I would have learned that this is the sequel to another book, which I haven’t read: Invitation to the Waltz.
I didn’t know it was a sequel, but it is likely that I would have been less interested in the first book anyway as it is a coming of age story and those tend to not work for me.
The Weather in the Streets starts with a woman, Olivia, meeting an old acquaintance (Rollo) on a train. There is something very Noel Coward to the story, and I don’t just mean Still Life (Coward’s 1936 one-act play that was the basis of the classic film Brief Encounters). The dialogue and observations are very witty, or rather, sharp.
‘I’m afraid I’m not very grown-up,’ he said suddenly.
‘Nor am I.’
‘I should have said you were.’
‘Oh, no!’ There was a pause; and she added nervously: ‘I’ve noticed people with children don’t generally mind so much … about age, I mean. They seem to feel less anxious about time.’
‘Do they? I suppose they do,’ he said. ‘I expect it’s a good thing to have children.’
‘You haven’t got any?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Have you?’
‘No.’
They made it a joke, and laughed … All the same, it was surprising he hadn’t produced an heir. Couldn’t, wouldn’t Nicola? … or what?
‘Then,’ she said, ‘there are the pleasures of the intellect. They’re said to be lasting. We must cultivate our intellects.’
‘Too late,’ he said. ‘One ought to make at least a beginning in youth, and I omitted to do so. The fact is, I don’t care much about the intellect. I’m afraid the scope of my pleasures is rather limited.’
‘Really?’
‘Confined in fact entirely to those of the senses.’
‘Oh, I see …’ She answered his odd comically inquiring look with a lift of the eyebrows. ‘Well, I suppose they’re all right. Only they’re apt to pall.’
‘Oh, are they?’
‘I was thinking of cake.’ She sighed. ‘It used to be my passion – especially chocolate, or any kind of large spicy bun. Now, it’s beginning to mean less … much less.’
He leaned back, laughing; the tension dissolved again.
This is not a comedy, tho. There is something tragic about both Olivia and Rollo.
Interestingly, The Weather on the Streets was also published in 1936 (same as Coward’s Still Life), and in a way Lehmann’s story picks up on similar themes. However, Olivia’s and Rollo’s stories take quite different turns.
I loved this book.
One of the reasons why was that this another example of 1930s literature showing us how modern some attitudes in the interwar period were and that there were people who dared to step out of the life that other people want for them and make their own choices, fully knowing the cost at which this decision may come.
Now, it would be delusional to think that the stories depicted by Lehmann were common or even widely accepted. They were not. And I am not coming away from this book with the conviction that there was a regression after the war in attitudes as to what was “socially acceptable” (even tho I do wonder about this).
However, Lehmann’s book does give visibility to characters who struggle with their lot in life and decide to seek more for themselves, while trying to not damage or hurt the people around them.
And Lehmann’s writing is just wonderful.
There is one particular scene where Olivia feels sick on a train. It’s only a single paragraph, and yet it is enough to let us know so, so much about what is going on with both the plot and the character.
This was just so very good. I love the way that Lehmann writes about even serious things and yet still keeps a light tone.
I am very keen to find out whether Lehmann’s other works are equally satisfying.
This review was first posted on my blog.
https://brokentuneblog.com/2020/07/26...
February 8, 2019
This novel is set ten years after, “The Invitation to the Waltz,” in which Olivia first met Rollo Spencer, the son and heir of the house where the dance was held. Ten years later and Olivia is separated from her husband and living in London, with her cousin, Etty. She is returning home, as her father is seriously ill, when she runs into Rollo on the train. Rollo is married too; his wife referred to as a little fragile, seen as something of an invalid, and very beautiful.
Rollo is rich, entitled and charming. Olivia falls under his spell and, when he contacts her in London, she is swept into an affair. Lehmann cleverly makes us doubt Rollo from the first, with small, tiny actions and comments. The fact he notices another girls figure, his dislike of scenes and tears, his obvious wish not to be caught while out with Olivia. This was published in 1936 and is very much of an era. Lehmann, like other female authors of her class, and time, were later criticised for writing about things which did not affect the majority of writers – too concerned with class and people with more time on their hands than real life problems. However, what concerns people as much as love? In this novel, Lehmann writes wonderfully of the emotions that come with wanting someone desperately and not being able to express such love openly.
Lehmann herself had a long term affair with Cecil Day-Lewis and was, apparently, devastated when he left her to marry another woman. Into this novel she pours her emotion, even more touching in Olivia, who does attempt to control her feelings. Also, although her novels may not deal with problems to do with having a roof over your head,, she certainly highlights issues which affect women and which are very real indeed. This must have been a shocking read at the time – looking not only at an extra marital affair, but the implications and reality of such an affair. While Olivia’s sister settles for marriage, and children, Olivia is always questioning and wondering what she really does desire. If you enjoy authors such as Elizabeth Bowen, another favourite of mine, you will like Rosamond Lehmann and I will certainly read more by her.
Rollo is rich, entitled and charming. Olivia falls under his spell and, when he contacts her in London, she is swept into an affair. Lehmann cleverly makes us doubt Rollo from the first, with small, tiny actions and comments. The fact he notices another girls figure, his dislike of scenes and tears, his obvious wish not to be caught while out with Olivia. This was published in 1936 and is very much of an era. Lehmann, like other female authors of her class, and time, were later criticised for writing about things which did not affect the majority of writers – too concerned with class and people with more time on their hands than real life problems. However, what concerns people as much as love? In this novel, Lehmann writes wonderfully of the emotions that come with wanting someone desperately and not being able to express such love openly.
Lehmann herself had a long term affair with Cecil Day-Lewis and was, apparently, devastated when he left her to marry another woman. Into this novel she pours her emotion, even more touching in Olivia, who does attempt to control her feelings. Also, although her novels may not deal with problems to do with having a roof over your head,, she certainly highlights issues which affect women and which are very real indeed. This must have been a shocking read at the time – looking not only at an extra marital affair, but the implications and reality of such an affair. While Olivia’s sister settles for marriage, and children, Olivia is always questioning and wondering what she really does desire. If you enjoy authors such as Elizabeth Bowen, another favourite of mine, you will like Rosamond Lehmann and I will certainly read more by her.
January 22, 2018
Regresar a casa supone ponerse de frente con uno mismo. Ver a los padres envejecer y comprobar que el tiempo también ha pasado por ella, lleva a Olivia a replantearse qué ha pasado con su vida. Un matrimonio frustrado, unas aspiraciones, impuestas socialmente, de ser madre no satisfechas, una vida bohemia sobreviviendo como secretaria de su amiga fotógrafa Anna... A su lado, su hermana Kate representa su antítesis: madre de familia numerosa, responsable, sensata, felizmente casada. El encuentro fortuito con un amor de la adolescencia hará que Olivia recorra un camino imprevisible. Amistades que se afianzan y otras que desaparecen, el amor clandestino, la identidad de al mujer en los años 30, el aborto... Todos estos temas se tratan con una crítica social sutil y elegante en un estilo que convierte a Rosamond en una narradora brillante, perspicaz y aguda que enamora. Releerla es una delicia. Escribe tan bien...
February 8, 2019
This novel is set ten years after, “The Invitation to the Waltz,” in which Olivia first met Rollo Spencer, the son and heir of the house where the dance was held. Ten years later and Olivia is separated from her husband and living in London, with her cousin, Etty. She is returning home, as her father is seriously ill, when she runs into Rollo on the train. Rollo is married too; his wife referred to as a little fragile, seen as something of an invalid, and very beautiful.
Rollo is rich, entitled and charming. Olivia falls under his spell and, when he contacts her in London, she is swept into an affair. Lehmann cleverly makes us doubt Rollo from the first, with small, tiny actions and comments. The fact he notices another girls figure, his dislike of scenes and tears, his obvious wish not to be caught while out with Olivia. This was published in 1936 and is very much of an era. Lehmann, like other female authors of her class, and time, were later criticised for writing about things which did not affect the majority of writers – too concerned with class and people with more time on their hands than real life problems. However, what concerns people as much as love? In this novel, Lehmann writes wonderfully of the emotions that come with wanting someone desperately and not being able to express such love openly.
Lehmann herself had a long term affair with Cecil Day-Lewis and was, apparently, devastated when he left her to marry another woman. Into this novel she pours her emotion, even more touching in Olivia, who does attempt to control her feelings. Also, although her novels may not deal with problems to do with having a roof over your head,, she certainly highlights issues which affect women and which are very real indeed. This must have been a shocking read at the time – looking not only at an extra marital affair, but the implications and reality of such an affair. While Olivia’s sister settles for marriage, and children, Olivia is always questioning and wondering what she really does desire. If you enjoy authors such as Elizabeth Bowen, another favourite of mine, you will like Rosamond Lehmann and I will certainly read more by her.
Rollo is rich, entitled and charming. Olivia falls under his spell and, when he contacts her in London, she is swept into an affair. Lehmann cleverly makes us doubt Rollo from the first, with small, tiny actions and comments. The fact he notices another girls figure, his dislike of scenes and tears, his obvious wish not to be caught while out with Olivia. This was published in 1936 and is very much of an era. Lehmann, like other female authors of her class, and time, were later criticised for writing about things which did not affect the majority of writers – too concerned with class and people with more time on their hands than real life problems. However, what concerns people as much as love? In this novel, Lehmann writes wonderfully of the emotions that come with wanting someone desperately and not being able to express such love openly.
Lehmann herself had a long term affair with Cecil Day-Lewis and was, apparently, devastated when he left her to marry another woman. Into this novel she pours her emotion, even more touching in Olivia, who does attempt to control her feelings. Also, although her novels may not deal with problems to do with having a roof over your head,, she certainly highlights issues which affect women and which are very real indeed. This must have been a shocking read at the time – looking not only at an extra marital affair, but the implications and reality of such an affair. While Olivia’s sister settles for marriage, and children, Olivia is always questioning and wondering what she really does desire. If you enjoy authors such as Elizabeth Bowen, another favourite of mine, you will like Rosamond Lehmann and I will certainly read more by her.
January 12, 2012
The Weather in the Streets is the sequel to Rosamond Lehmann's Invitation to the Waltz. Blah blah a long Mariel book review later blah blah Olivia was last seen as if she was in her own bed, under the covers of some kind of consolation. Is that all there is consolation. That's enough for now consolation. Like reading a book with a hope and a helpless sigh. Don't let it end 'cause the next step is going to come like hunting around for the right word mid-sentence. Someone else would probably say it for her. Then it would come after like the perfect comeback when it is too late. The book is what the life thing is all about. I saw her talking to herself that she wasn't really so alone in the world after all. We don't all care if you have the right words, Olivia. (I love it when I find books that I want to talk to the character. When I feel like if they had known someone who cares as much as I do it would have been a bit better.)
I'm gravitating to stories about what happens to people when they talk to themselves too much. This is one of those stories. And it is another a bit of breaking your own heart book from not having enough will to get out of that bed and do more than hope.
I didn't want to be influenced with some, ahem, spoilerish biographical information that I accidentally read (yes, the computer pulled up the Rosamund Lehmann wikipedia page all on its own!). The grapevine had it that Lehmann became disillusioned after a protracted love affair with a married man. (Less "Oh. My. God!" gossip and more hoping I don't remind them of something painful if I happen to bump into them on the street gossip.) Oh, Ms. Lehmann. You know the "I'm going to leave my wife for you?" routine. I know a lot of married couples that sleep around on each other as a matter of course. I don't even know what that means. It's a freaking habit, or something. Going by these people I'd say it was routine and also that the women felt chosen over another woman (the wife or girlfriend). As if that were winning, somehow and not the same thing as sleeping with yet another person. I don't know really why they do it. If you're looking to "get" what you want and one person doesn't have it all contained in their pinky finger. As if marriage meant that you were any closer to anyone else. As if it had anything to do with anything, other than some made up line to cross or not.
So I didn't want to know what happened to Olivia. It would be nice to stay under those warm covers a little longer. I knew that Olivia would fall in love with a married man. I knew that Lehmann did too and that she had not stayed seeing the world open to her. So silly, Mariel. It was going to happen the whole time. I loved 'Invitation' for how precarious that hope was. Olivia talks to herself without the words to say the things that she most needs to hear. Excuse me more cheesey analogies but I really want to say it would be like plucking some little bloom to avoid some rainstorm. This is a curious little book, knowing what I think I know about Lehmann. She must have felt the same way I do, at the same tender for Olivia's hope of being understood and wouldn't move one everything couldn't be contained in it finger to stop it from happening. I wanted to will her some more self awareness. I wanted to talk to her about some of the things I've noticed. I wanted to her to go on being Olivia as Lehmann must have. If you could isolate one of the truths about why you hurt yourself and it might lead you to some conclusion about why you did it in the first place. Break your own heart.
So Olivia thinks she knows what she knows about the futility of staying with a married man. Wife or no, it's about not having to leave the in between of the lines he finds he can draw around wife and lover. Call it an air of unreality when you don't have to be with who you're with 'cause you can recall the face of your most recent kiss goodbye.
Olivia notices what she does about the strangers in the once familiar land of family. A this must mean that. The silences and tones are everything to her and only come off the source in un(thinking and feeling) waves. I liked a lot the disjointed thoughts style of Lehmann's prose. The thinking and feeling wave of this must mean that. It fit so well with the not quite fit of reckoning your oh so important then memories with the harder and harder to make important memories of your ongoing life (I guess). When you remember and your past doesn't remember you. I remember writing something in my 'Invitation' review that I would tell Olivia to read more books to keep that hard to maintain hope about other people simmering. I didn't know how right I was. Every once in a while I surprise myself. So the passage when Olivia later meets her brother again could have been written by me about my own brother. I'm sure it has been in my letters. Damn, I can't find the passage now. It was something about how she found it comforting that her brother, James, wasn't curious about her life at all. I was impressed with how I could read it that she did notice that he wasn't interested was important too. How can you keep from noticing that? If you notice it it is still there. The comfort is because you don't want to answer about yourself to other people (that is so me). If you don't fit with yourself and know those right words to say when talking to other people. If you forget how to talk to yourself in the right way (I don't know what the right way is but I know it feels better to need yourself more than you need anyone else). I felt like I could read Olivia's unease like some book I could take into the covers with me (well, that is exactly what I did).
If she read more books there was more she could have done. She would have known there were other people, even if she couldn't read their words on the outsides of the people exteriors she would meet. I still feel that. It's a trap to get caught between those blurred lines of those Rollo types. His talking to himself is round and round excuses. That goes nowhere. Didn't Olivia really want to go somewhere? Lehmann must have. (And I freaking love that I was wondering about her and Olivia. Once in a while it feels worth it to be so damned sensitive.) I think that's why I like these two books so much. Someone was behind it. I kind of liked, in a more disturbing way, that it reinforced my crappy reasons to hide.
I'm gravitating to stories about what happens to people when they talk to themselves too much. This is one of those stories. And it is another a bit of breaking your own heart book from not having enough will to get out of that bed and do more than hope.
I didn't want to be influenced with some, ahem, spoilerish biographical information that I accidentally read (yes, the computer pulled up the Rosamund Lehmann wikipedia page all on its own!). The grapevine had it that Lehmann became disillusioned after a protracted love affair with a married man. (Less "Oh. My. God!" gossip and more hoping I don't remind them of something painful if I happen to bump into them on the street gossip.) Oh, Ms. Lehmann. You know the "I'm going to leave my wife for you?" routine. I know a lot of married couples that sleep around on each other as a matter of course. I don't even know what that means. It's a freaking habit, or something. Going by these people I'd say it was routine and also that the women felt chosen over another woman (the wife or girlfriend). As if that were winning, somehow and not the same thing as sleeping with yet another person. I don't know really why they do it. If you're looking to "get" what you want and one person doesn't have it all contained in their pinky finger. As if marriage meant that you were any closer to anyone else. As if it had anything to do with anything, other than some made up line to cross or not.
So I didn't want to know what happened to Olivia. It would be nice to stay under those warm covers a little longer. I knew that Olivia would fall in love with a married man. I knew that Lehmann did too and that she had not stayed seeing the world open to her. So silly, Mariel. It was going to happen the whole time. I loved 'Invitation' for how precarious that hope was. Olivia talks to herself without the words to say the things that she most needs to hear. Excuse me more cheesey analogies but I really want to say it would be like plucking some little bloom to avoid some rainstorm. This is a curious little book, knowing what I think I know about Lehmann. She must have felt the same way I do, at the same tender for Olivia's hope of being understood and wouldn't move one everything couldn't be contained in it finger to stop it from happening. I wanted to will her some more self awareness. I wanted to talk to her about some of the things I've noticed. I wanted to her to go on being Olivia as Lehmann must have. If you could isolate one of the truths about why you hurt yourself and it might lead you to some conclusion about why you did it in the first place. Break your own heart.
So Olivia thinks she knows what she knows about the futility of staying with a married man. Wife or no, it's about not having to leave the in between of the lines he finds he can draw around wife and lover. Call it an air of unreality when you don't have to be with who you're with 'cause you can recall the face of your most recent kiss goodbye.
Olivia notices what she does about the strangers in the once familiar land of family. A this must mean that. The silences and tones are everything to her and only come off the source in un(thinking and feeling) waves. I liked a lot the disjointed thoughts style of Lehmann's prose. The thinking and feeling wave of this must mean that. It fit so well with the not quite fit of reckoning your oh so important then memories with the harder and harder to make important memories of your ongoing life (I guess). When you remember and your past doesn't remember you. I remember writing something in my 'Invitation' review that I would tell Olivia to read more books to keep that hard to maintain hope about other people simmering. I didn't know how right I was. Every once in a while I surprise myself. So the passage when Olivia later meets her brother again could have been written by me about my own brother. I'm sure it has been in my letters. Damn, I can't find the passage now. It was something about how she found it comforting that her brother, James, wasn't curious about her life at all. I was impressed with how I could read it that she did notice that he wasn't interested was important too. How can you keep from noticing that? If you notice it it is still there. The comfort is because you don't want to answer about yourself to other people (that is so me). If you don't fit with yourself and know those right words to say when talking to other people. If you forget how to talk to yourself in the right way (I don't know what the right way is but I know it feels better to need yourself more than you need anyone else). I felt like I could read Olivia's unease like some book I could take into the covers with me (well, that is exactly what I did).
If she read more books there was more she could have done. She would have known there were other people, even if she couldn't read their words on the outsides of the people exteriors she would meet. I still feel that. It's a trap to get caught between those blurred lines of those Rollo types. His talking to himself is round and round excuses. That goes nowhere. Didn't Olivia really want to go somewhere? Lehmann must have. (And I freaking love that I was wondering about her and Olivia. Once in a while it feels worth it to be so damned sensitive.) I think that's why I like these two books so much. Someone was behind it. I kind of liked, in a more disturbing way, that it reinforced my crappy reasons to hide.
November 5, 2010
Absolutely loved this book. I finished it (very) late last night and have been thinking about the characters on and off all day today. Surely that is a sign of a great book. Written in 1936 this novel was years ahead of it's time, with it's story of an extra marital affair, secret meetings and hotel rooms and the resulting consequences.
Olivia is ten years older than when we last met her in the also brilliant An invitation to the waltz. Her marriage has broken down, and she lives with her cousin Etty in a small London house, works for a photographer and associates with other artists and writers in a somewhat bohemian style existence. Things begin to change when she meet Rollo Spencer, whom she had fantasised about in her youth, on a train.
Like so many other authors of this period I have found the real brilliance of Rosamund Lehmann is in the detail - her writing is exquisite - but her sense of time and place, her characterisation, and the way in which those characters speak to the reader is just excellent. The way in which, for example, Rosamund Lehmann portrays Olivia's sister's children, as they play in the garden, in one small (not especially important) section is a fine example, it was just so beautifully written I was thoroughly impressed.
Olivia is ten years older than when we last met her in the also brilliant An invitation to the waltz. Her marriage has broken down, and she lives with her cousin Etty in a small London house, works for a photographer and associates with other artists and writers in a somewhat bohemian style existence. Things begin to change when she meet Rollo Spencer, whom she had fantasised about in her youth, on a train.
Like so many other authors of this period I have found the real brilliance of Rosamund Lehmann is in the detail - her writing is exquisite - but her sense of time and place, her characterisation, and the way in which those characters speak to the reader is just excellent. The way in which, for example, Rosamund Lehmann portrays Olivia's sister's children, as they play in the garden, in one small (not especially important) section is a fine example, it was just so beautifully written I was thoroughly impressed.
August 23, 2020
Aunque se puede leer independientemente a Invitación al baile, primera incursión en el mundo de Olivia Curtis, lo recomendable no sólo es leerla como complemento a esa primera novela, sino además y a poder ser, leerla a continuación. Creo que se puede apreciar mejor en que mujer se ha convertido Olivia Curtis , tras diez años, despues de ese primer baile a los 17 años, ahora con 27 años es una mujer melancólica, más delgada y desde luego un poco descreida. Rosamond Lehmann es una maestra en este universo femenino intímo y personal, monólogos interiores donde tenemos el privilegio de penetrar y sintiéndonos muy cerca de ella, de sus ambiguas contradicciónes, de la nostalgia de un pasado todavia inocente.
Diez años después, Olivia Curtis no se ha convertido en una mujer perfecta y segura, sino que sigue siendo vulnerable, y sin embargo, su percepción de la realidad es completamente realista y aguda. Escrita en 1936, creo que es una novela muy moderna, tanto en su historia como en la forma de Rosamond Lehmann, su estilo elegante y la sútil ironia carcajeandose de los estereotipos tan rigidos ingleses de aquella epoca, la convierten para mi en una maestra.
Diez años después, Olivia Curtis no se ha convertido en una mujer perfecta y segura, sino que sigue siendo vulnerable, y sin embargo, su percepción de la realidad es completamente realista y aguda. Escrita en 1936, creo que es una novela muy moderna, tanto en su historia como en la forma de Rosamond Lehmann, su estilo elegante y la sútil ironia carcajeandose de los estereotipos tan rigidos ingleses de aquella epoca, la convierten para mi en una maestra.
March 17, 2024
Changed to 2* in retrospect (well, more like 2.5), when 'Because you enjoyed 'The Weather in the Streets'' on the front page of Goodreads appeared, I thought...no I didn't
If part two had been edited properly, it would have been a 4*, easily. What's wrong with part two? Well:
You see it was...perhaps it might have been...yes - Adrian and Simon - oh what a lark...you see they'd come up with Anna and George, to stay at Jocelyn's place, and we'd gone swimming the river, radiant washing over, oh I remembered...
It's like when you talk to someone, and they go on and on and on about people you've never met. Lehmann does that here, and dedicates far too much time to inconsequential characters such as Anna and Simon, who really add nothing to the story. Structurally part two makes sense from the point of view of Olivia's mindset, but it dragged and I found myself skipping and skipping and skipping (and again in part four, any time it mentioned Anna and Simon). Lehmann seems to expect the reader to have some sort of emotional attachment to characters who don't add anything to the story.
I've never seen an author overuse ellipsis and dashes so much, nor place so many bizarre stresses on words as per the overuse of italics whenever Etty and Lady Spencer have dialogue, either. Plus the propensity for multiple characters when speaking to...no not quite...never finish a...
This isn't to say that the book was a total disaster - it was just frustrating, because of the potential there. I found it a very realistic view of an affair (or so I'd imagine!), or just loving someone that you know you ultimately can't have. Olivia's conversations with Kate were probably my favourite, and the book as a whole was very progressive for the 1930's - Kate's candid take on motherhood for example, and the allusions to homosexuality (Marigold, I see you!) Lehmann clearly has an ear for dialogue, and the reactions of the characters to said dialogue are realistic and believable.
Parts of this were glorious, but ultimately it got bogged down at times by erratic punctuation and stylistic choices. Had it been slimmed down and just focused on the core of Olivia-Rollo-Kate-Lady Spencer-Marigold and done away dedicating so much page space to the superfluous additional characters, then it would have been a lot more successful in my humble opinion.
If part two had been edited properly, it would have been a 4*, easily. What's wrong with part two? Well:
You see it was...perhaps it might have been...yes - Adrian and Simon - oh what a lark...you see they'd come up with Anna and George, to stay at Jocelyn's place, and we'd gone swimming the river, radiant washing over, oh I remembered...
It's like when you talk to someone, and they go on and on and on about people you've never met. Lehmann does that here, and dedicates far too much time to inconsequential characters such as Anna and Simon, who really add nothing to the story. Structurally part two makes sense from the point of view of Olivia's mindset, but it dragged and I found myself skipping and skipping and skipping (and again in part four, any time it mentioned Anna and Simon). Lehmann seems to expect the reader to have some sort of emotional attachment to characters who don't add anything to the story.
I've never seen an author overuse ellipsis and dashes so much, nor place so many bizarre stresses on words as per the overuse of italics whenever Etty and Lady Spencer have dialogue, either. Plus the propensity for multiple characters when speaking to...no not quite...never finish a...
This isn't to say that the book was a total disaster - it was just frustrating, because of the potential there. I found it a very realistic view of an affair (or so I'd imagine!), or just loving someone that you know you ultimately can't have. Olivia's conversations with Kate were probably my favourite, and the book as a whole was very progressive for the 1930's - Kate's candid take on motherhood for example, and the allusions to homosexuality (Marigold, I see you!) Lehmann clearly has an ear for dialogue, and the reactions of the characters to said dialogue are realistic and believable.
Parts of this were glorious, but ultimately it got bogged down at times by erratic punctuation and stylistic choices. Had it been slimmed down and just focused on the core of Olivia-Rollo-Kate-Lady Spencer-Marigold and done away dedicating so much page space to the superfluous additional characters, then it would have been a lot more successful in my humble opinion.
June 16, 2010
The Weather in the Streets is a sequel to Lehmann's earlier book, Invitation to the Waltz. Here, Olivia, who in Invitation to the Waltz was a nervous debutante, is now older, though perhaps not much wiser; separated from her husband, she falls in love with the married brother of an old friend and embarks upon a tempestuous affair.
I found The Weather in the Streets even better than Invitation to the Waltz. The subject matter is more powerful and complex, and Lehmann more assured in handling it. Olivia's inner monologues are brilliantly done, and Lehmann even slips into the first person for one section of the book, though the change is so unobtrusive that I almost didn't notice it.
Of all of the writers I've read, I think Lehmann is one of the best at getting into her character's thoughts and showing us their experiences and emotions honestly and directly; in the foreword to this edition (from Virago Modern Classics), Janet Watts refers to Lehmann's "exceptional emotional intelligence", which is such the right phrase that I can't come up with a better.
I found The Weather in the Streets even better than Invitation to the Waltz. The subject matter is more powerful and complex, and Lehmann more assured in handling it. Olivia's inner monologues are brilliantly done, and Lehmann even slips into the first person for one section of the book, though the change is so unobtrusive that I almost didn't notice it.
Of all of the writers I've read, I think Lehmann is one of the best at getting into her character's thoughts and showing us their experiences and emotions honestly and directly; in the foreword to this edition (from Virago Modern Classics), Janet Watts refers to Lehmann's "exceptional emotional intelligence", which is such the right phrase that I can't come up with a better.
April 12, 2009
Rosamond Lehmann may well be one of the greatest underrated British writers of the last century. The Weather in the Streets (kind of a sequel to Invitation to the Waltz) is a masterful, subtle, cruel, and fascinating look at a doomed love affair, and it's as effective and relevant today as it was when it was published, in 1936. The author of the introduction says that this was, for a whole generation, the equivalent of Bridget Jones's Diary, and one can see that: it does reflect with great accuracy and compassion the life of a woman, and because of it's realism, it surely must have been a story in which many women could see themselves. But the truth is, this novel is actually on a much higher literary plane than Bridget Jones, for the simple reason that Lehmann's novel is of much greater literary merits. It's astonishingly well written. Lehmann's command of the English language is superb, and she writes magically about the joy and sadness of love, of landscapes and cities, of the seasons, of the divide between the classes. Her writing style as well as her understanding of her characters are wonderful. Her story is quite simple, and probably would have been reduced to a trifle romance with another writer: thanks to her, it becomes a fascinating, profoundly moving, and sometimes disturbingly realistic portrait of a woman trying to set her own rules, of a society torn between a desire for freedom and the burden of conformity. Rollo, the seductive, irresistible lover, the charming cad, is emblematic of a certain social class. Olivia, the heroine, is delightfully engaging, and the narration, which often follows the course of her random thoughts, is a lesson in great writing. Lehmann's very modern voice doesn't avoid the sordidness that comes with extra-marital affairs, and she frankly tackles on the subject of abortion - which must have been quite shocking in the thirties. The Weather in the Street is ultimately a poignant book, that ranks among the very best that British literature has given us in between the two world wars.
March 19, 2013
This is the sequel to "Invitation to the waltz", previous novel by Lehmann.
There is little to be found of that excitable creature, Olivia Curtis, who attended her first ball ten years ago and captured most of the readers' hearts in this new novel.
After a disastrous marriage, Olivia is returning home to visit her ill father, bumping into Rollo Spencer, her first love and seemingly twin soul, on the train.
Rollo is the same confident, attractive man, now married to Nicola, whereas Olivia is an "independent" woman interested in the new cultural movement of the big city: poets, painters and photographers are her acquaintances; she lives by the day without planning her future in the typical bohemian style.
Despite her apparently new appealing, Olivia is still the insecure and fearful creature who seeks approval and reassurance and, seeing Rollo after so many years arouse forgotten feelings in her, making her blunt and blind to the consequences of starting an affair with him.
What I most enjoyed about this novel is the way it's written because it gives you a real glimpse of how an affair might start and what it would actually be like. The book is no illusion, no sugary romance, no big drama, just life unfolded and steps taken and consequences to be dealt with. There's no judgement, only facts and again, the exposure of our weak and capricious souls, two adults playing a game we all know the result of.
Devastatingly cruel and sweet altogether, as life itself.
There is little to be found of that excitable creature, Olivia Curtis, who attended her first ball ten years ago and captured most of the readers' hearts in this new novel.
After a disastrous marriage, Olivia is returning home to visit her ill father, bumping into Rollo Spencer, her first love and seemingly twin soul, on the train.
Rollo is the same confident, attractive man, now married to Nicola, whereas Olivia is an "independent" woman interested in the new cultural movement of the big city: poets, painters and photographers are her acquaintances; she lives by the day without planning her future in the typical bohemian style.
Despite her apparently new appealing, Olivia is still the insecure and fearful creature who seeks approval and reassurance and, seeing Rollo after so many years arouse forgotten feelings in her, making her blunt and blind to the consequences of starting an affair with him.
What I most enjoyed about this novel is the way it's written because it gives you a real glimpse of how an affair might start and what it would actually be like. The book is no illusion, no sugary romance, no big drama, just life unfolded and steps taken and consequences to be dealt with. There's no judgement, only facts and again, the exposure of our weak and capricious souls, two adults playing a game we all know the result of.
Devastatingly cruel and sweet altogether, as life itself.
July 31, 2019
The book starts ten years after the party from 'Invitation to the Waltz'. Olivia is living in London with a friend after the failure of her marriage. Her mother calls to ask her to visit home because her father is very ill. In the train down, she meets Rollo, who so fascinated her on the evening of the dance. He too, is in an unhappy marriage and the pair inevitably embark on an affair.
This book felt much more jaded than the first, the characters have grown up and suffered disappointment. Life hasn't turned out as they wanted.
This book felt much more jaded than the first, the characters have grown up and suffered disappointment. Life hasn't turned out as they wanted.
February 28, 2021
Comparativamente hablando, este libro es mejor que el anterior. Lehmann, a través de su protagonista (ocasional uso de la primera persona), se ha deshecho de los restos de inocencia que mantenía en “Invitación al baile” aunque no consigue desproveerla de cierta ingenuidad. Olivia adulta observa un mundo hipócrita y bastante cínico, cruel, además de claramente machista. Pero Olivia, el personaje, no juzga ese mundo, se juzga a sí misma, se culpa, y se disculpa casi constantemente, aceptando a los demás, sin culparlos… sobre todo a él, a quien le perdona todo.
Sin embargo Rosamond Lehmann sí critica duramente la sociedad que le tocó vivir, gracias a este personaje femenino que carga con las culpas, utiliza la perspectiva de Olivia (que por dentro considera injusto tener que pedir perdón) y las perspectivas de otros personajes femeninos: Olivia, Kate y la señora Curtis en primera persona y el resto de ellas por referencias y conversaciones. Tenemos todo tipo de mujeres todas ellas sometidas a reglas y convencionalismos con los que no están de acuerdo. Pero Lehmann es tan sutil en su feminismo y su defensa de la mujer que nadie puede acusarla de nada.
July 17, 2020
The English writer Rosamond Lehmann seems to fall somewhere in the intersection between Elizabeth Taylor and Virginia Woolf, her modernist style and piercing insight into character marking her out as a writer of great skill and distinction. The Weather in the Streets (1936) is a sequel to Lehmann’s earlier novel, Invitation to the Waltz, in which seventeen-year-old Olivia Curtis is captivated at her first society ball by the dashing Rollo Spencer. Nothing much comes of their meeting on the terrace at the time. Rollo belongs to a higher social class than Olivia and remains somewhat out of her reach, and yet she is mesmerised by him all the same.
In Weather – which is set ten years later – a chance encounter brings Olivia into contact with Rollo once again, and an illicit relationship soon follows, forming the focus of the narrative. While Invitation is a very good novel – encapsulating the blend of excitement and apprehension we feel when we’re young – Weather is on an entirely different level altogether. It’s a remarkable book, one that expertly captures the cruelty, frustration and devastation of a doomed love affair in the most glittering prose.
As the novel opens, Olivia is working as a photographer’s assistant in London, where she lives with her cousin, Etty. Having separated from her husband, Ivor, two years earlier, Olivia now has a dull, unfulfilling marriage behind her; the couple, however, are not legally divorced.
While travelling home to see her father who is seriously ill with pneumonia, Olivia has the misfortune of being seated opposite Rollo on the train – a chance encounter that rekindles longstanding emotions within Olivia as she recalls their previous meeting at the ball. Rollo is wealthy, privileged and attractive. He is also married, but the marriage is not a particularly happy one – his wife, Nicola, is delicate, fragile and highly strung, an earlier miscarriage having precipitated something of an emotional withdrawal on her part.
Lehmann excels at conveying the rush of conflicting emotions Olivia experiences on seeing Rollo again, the desire to open up vs the tendency towards self-protection. The author holds the reader close to Olivia, giving us near-direct access to her thoughts alongside the couple’s conversation.
[Rollo] “…You going home, too?”
[Olivia] “Yes…Yes, I’m going home. Just for a few days.”
“D’you often come down?”
“No–-not very often really. No, I don’t.” She stopped, feeling stubborn, choked by the usual struggle of conflicting impulses: to explain, to say nothing; to trust, to be suspicious; lightly to satisfy natural curiosity; to defy it with furious scorn and silence; to let nobody come too near me… (p. 18)
To read the rest of my review, please visit:
https://jacquiwine.wordpress.com/2020...
In Weather – which is set ten years later – a chance encounter brings Olivia into contact with Rollo once again, and an illicit relationship soon follows, forming the focus of the narrative. While Invitation is a very good novel – encapsulating the blend of excitement and apprehension we feel when we’re young – Weather is on an entirely different level altogether. It’s a remarkable book, one that expertly captures the cruelty, frustration and devastation of a doomed love affair in the most glittering prose.
As the novel opens, Olivia is working as a photographer’s assistant in London, where she lives with her cousin, Etty. Having separated from her husband, Ivor, two years earlier, Olivia now has a dull, unfulfilling marriage behind her; the couple, however, are not legally divorced.
While travelling home to see her father who is seriously ill with pneumonia, Olivia has the misfortune of being seated opposite Rollo on the train – a chance encounter that rekindles longstanding emotions within Olivia as she recalls their previous meeting at the ball. Rollo is wealthy, privileged and attractive. He is also married, but the marriage is not a particularly happy one – his wife, Nicola, is delicate, fragile and highly strung, an earlier miscarriage having precipitated something of an emotional withdrawal on her part.
Lehmann excels at conveying the rush of conflicting emotions Olivia experiences on seeing Rollo again, the desire to open up vs the tendency towards self-protection. The author holds the reader close to Olivia, giving us near-direct access to her thoughts alongside the couple’s conversation.
[Rollo] “…You going home, too?”
[Olivia] “Yes…Yes, I’m going home. Just for a few days.”
“D’you often come down?”
“No–-not very often really. No, I don’t.” She stopped, feeling stubborn, choked by the usual struggle of conflicting impulses: to explain, to say nothing; to trust, to be suspicious; lightly to satisfy natural curiosity; to defy it with furious scorn and silence; to let nobody come too near me… (p. 18)
To read the rest of my review, please visit:
https://jacquiwine.wordpress.com/2020...
May 17, 2023
Questo libro mi è particolarmente caro. L’ho comprato alla Spezia il 25 giugno del 2000: aspettando di imbarcarci per la Corsica per la luna di miele, abbiamo gironzolato per le vie del centro e siamo entrati in una libreria per rifornirci. Presto l’occhio mi è caduto su questa copertina. Di Rosamond Lehmann non avevo ancora letto niente, ma ne avevo sentito parlare. Il vero titolo di questo romanzo è 'Weather in the street', ed è l'unico giusto. Per una volta, tuttavia, perdono lo stupido titolo della traduzione italiana, che mi ha convinto a comprarlo per il viaggio di nozze! L'ho letto tra le rosse falesie della Corsica, nel profumo di macchia mediterranea, nelle belle spiaggette rocciose della costa occidentale, nel vento bruciante del sud che ci arrostiva perfino in moto; ed è un libro con le pagine intrise del maltempo di Londra, pieno di pioggia, di freddo, di fango, ma anche di verdi giardini freschi e ombrosi. Mi è piaciuto moltissimo, e in seguito ho letto tutti i libri della Lehmann. Simone de Beauvoir prediligeva Polvere, Nick Hornby sostiene che il migliore è Invito al valzer, io invece non ho dubbi: questo è di gran lunga il più bello.
E voi, vi ricordate cosa avete letto durante la luna di miele? ;-)
E voi, vi ricordate cosa avete letto durante la luna di miele? ;-)
January 29, 2019
Returning home to visit her ill father, Olivia Curtis happens to meet the wealthy Rollo Spencer, the man who captivated her at a ball ten years earlier. Although Rollo is married, Olivia cannot resist his attentions and they begin a passionate but damaging affair.
This is a fierce and powerful novel which must have appeared very bold and shocking when it was published in the 1930s. The age-old story of deception, selfishness and illusion is revealed with such honesty and intensity that it seems fresh and original, as if Olivia were the first woman ever to find herself in this position. Lehmann brilliantly constructs the bruising impact of the affair itself within the social constraints that govern the conduct of the couple's meetings and interactions.
This book follows on 10 years after Invitation to the Waltz and some of the most charming and moving moments occur when the reader encounters characters from the previous book, mainly in the first, lighter, section of the novel. The later sections become darker as reality begins to intrude on the lovers' meetings, and Lehmann skilfully keeps the reader involved in the story by challenging our expectations, even as sympathy for the characters begins to fade.
I found this a far more sophisticated and engaging book than Invitation to the Waltz. The characters have lived more, experienced disappointments, made bad decisions - and this gives Lehmann more scope to explore their emotions and relationships. Overall, a brilliantly written and memorable depiction of a love affair.
This is a fierce and powerful novel which must have appeared very bold and shocking when it was published in the 1930s. The age-old story of deception, selfishness and illusion is revealed with such honesty and intensity that it seems fresh and original, as if Olivia were the first woman ever to find herself in this position. Lehmann brilliantly constructs the bruising impact of the affair itself within the social constraints that govern the conduct of the couple's meetings and interactions.
This book follows on 10 years after Invitation to the Waltz and some of the most charming and moving moments occur when the reader encounters characters from the previous book, mainly in the first, lighter, section of the novel. The later sections become darker as reality begins to intrude on the lovers' meetings, and Lehmann skilfully keeps the reader involved in the story by challenging our expectations, even as sympathy for the characters begins to fade.
I found this a far more sophisticated and engaging book than Invitation to the Waltz. The characters have lived more, experienced disappointments, made bad decisions - and this gives Lehmann more scope to explore their emotions and relationships. Overall, a brilliantly written and memorable depiction of a love affair.
December 6, 2017
Ambientada en el Londres de los años 30 nos habla de la vida de una mujer que se reencuentra con un antiguo amor. Es una historia muy intensa y humana que me ha maravillado. Os la recomiendo.
Mi reseña: http://contandoteunlibro.blogspot.com...
Mi reseña: http://contandoteunlibro.blogspot.com...
July 9, 2018
A la intemperie me ha resultado una novela entretenida, con un personaje principal que me ha encantado y al que vemos crecer a lo largo de la historia.
Aunque no he leído el anterior donde conocemos a los personajes siendo más jóvenes, he podido disfrutar de la manera de hacer de una autora que me ha llamado mucho la atención.
Lo recomiendo a esos lectores que disfruten con las tramas de personajes, con aquellos libros que reflejan cierta sociedad de una época y que no esperan acontecimientos encadenados.
Muy buena lectura.
Aunque no he leído el anterior donde conocemos a los personajes siendo más jóvenes, he podido disfrutar de la manera de hacer de una autora que me ha llamado mucho la atención.
Lo recomiendo a esos lectores que disfruten con las tramas de personajes, con aquellos libros que reflejan cierta sociedad de una época y que no esperan acontecimientos encadenados.
Muy buena lectura.
September 20, 2018
Oh, I hate this book. It is set in 1930s Britain; the main character, Olivia, is a young, sensitive woman, recently separated from her husband. She falls in love with a married man. I hate the premise: that Olivia gives herself over so utterly to this man, that she is in his thrall, and that she forgives him everything. He talks to her patronisingly, dotingly, like she is his pet. I hate that when she becomes pregnant, she consider it to be solely her problem, and cannot ask his advice or help. I hate how utterly alone she is, how the affair makes her isolated and unloved. And I hate that Lehmann writes so well that I could't think of anything while I was reading this book other than Olivia's story and what would become of her. Olivia is an utterly real, believable character. Lehmann's prose is completely compelling: evocative, energetic, original. She uses very stylish, competent mid-century prose much of the time, but occasionally travels into modernist first-person narrative, and it's very effective. The reader feels surprised by the narrative, but is never thrown out of it. I was so upset while I was reading this, because I hate the awful subjugation Olivia faces, but I was also endlessly impressed by Lehmann's mastery of prose, her creation of character, and her convincing plot.
I don't know whether I'd recommend this or not, tbh. If you're like me, you'll be furious. Note: this is a sequel to Invitation to the Waltz, which I did not know when I began reading it, but didn't seem to have any impact on my enjoyment of the narrative.
I don't know whether I'd recommend this or not, tbh. If you're like me, you'll be furious. Note: this is a sequel to Invitation to the Waltz, which I did not know when I began reading it, but didn't seem to have any impact on my enjoyment of the narrative.
September 17, 2023
Marvelous portrait of a secret (forbidden?) love affair.
No bad people, no bad decision - at least the way Rosamond Lehmann told the story forces you to ask: Who am I to judge? And I can't judge. Does love absolve all? What is love? And the ending? Brilliant.
I have just one regret, I would really have liked to see more about secondary characters, at least more of Olivia's friends. I have the feeling that I didn't understand them as much as I could. I will need to read it the second time (at least the parts about them) to fully grasp their world.
No bad people, no bad decision - at least the way Rosamond Lehmann told the story forces you to ask: Who am I to judge? And I can't judge. Does love absolve all? What is love? And the ending? Brilliant.
I have just one regret, I would really have liked to see more about secondary characters, at least more of Olivia's friends. I have the feeling that I didn't understand them as much as I could. I will need to read it the second time (at least the parts about them) to fully grasp their world.
June 5, 2019
https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/b00...Description: Olivia - whose rite of passage into adulthood was revealed in ‘Invitation to the Waltz’ - is now living a faintly bohemian life in London in the early 1930s. When she meets up again with Rollo, the handsome and unhappily married son of Lord and Lady Spencer, she falls prey once more to his charm and confidence, and they embark on a passionate and secret affair.
Rosamond Lehmann's classic account of the joy and anguish of an illicit love affair dramatised by Hattie Naylor.
Olivia ..... Eve Best
Rollo ..... Jonathan Firth
Lady Spencer .... Diana Quick
Kate .... Jenny Coverack
Anna ... Dee Sadler
Simon ... Ben Tinniswood
Mrs Curtis .... Jacqueline Tong
Marigold .... Rachel Lewis
With Paul Dodgson, Joshua Boyden and Olivia Crook
3* Invitation to the Waltz
CR The Weather in the Streets
3* Dusty Answer
4* The Echoing Grove
June 21, 2011
This comes across, at first read, like some Bronte-Woolf hybrid. I see that she came slightly later than Woolf.
I liked this a lot. Much of it is told in free direct discourse (though there's an odd jump to free indirect in part IV I think) so our views are restricted. Women, so strong yet so weak. I see the same themes being iterated in almost all novels which have females as protagonists. What is it about us and the other? Attractiveness comes up a lot -- and with that sterility. It is difficult to talk about it. I feel it too, what is it about the eye of the other? How do we always feel stifled, unattractive?
So much passion. Not as lyrical as Woolf, perhaps not even lyrical at all. Fractured, because of the passion in it (like Frame?). One expects climaxes, but there are none, really. Astute portrayal of class, anger -- anger at being a woman too. As Woolf would note, anger. Woolf said Austen escaped it; Bronte didn't. Not GREAT writing -- I don't think in terms of style -- she doesn't have the intelligence, that peculiar intelligence which transmutes experience into great art -- but it is very sincere. Woolf is more famous, I think, because she had that -- but in both of them -- the same anger. Woolf writes with more control, I think those who have the natural gift always do. But the passion in here is raw and sustained and she does not shun any sort of sordidity. There is a neurosis about the passion itself being fetishised, which is itself interesting. It reminds me of screaming, kicking the door. Not dramatic exactly, but looking for a way out. In THAT sense, like Kafka (but Kafka is the greater artist of course, he possessed that intelligence in huge amounts) -- Kafka could do drama without drama, emotion contained in itself -- Lehmann cannot -- tries, fails, worries, flounders, succeeds. But I suppose it is this which is very touching, for me. There is something contained in great works of writing (Ulysses one might say, or even Pride and Prejudice, or even Shakespeare's Lear) which is opaque, seemingly more independent from its maker (although this is of course not the case. Not that the artists' prejudices etc don't get through, they do, just in a different way. But I'm not here to write a whole essay on aesthetics). It is touching to see the struggle of a nervy creature who feels, thinks, acts -- I think the book is more 'human' in that sense, more revealing.
I liked this a lot. Much of it is told in free direct discourse (though there's an odd jump to free indirect in part IV I think) so our views are restricted. Women, so strong yet so weak. I see the same themes being iterated in almost all novels which have females as protagonists. What is it about us and the other? Attractiveness comes up a lot -- and with that sterility. It is difficult to talk about it. I feel it too, what is it about the eye of the other? How do we always feel stifled, unattractive?
So much passion. Not as lyrical as Woolf, perhaps not even lyrical at all. Fractured, because of the passion in it (like Frame?). One expects climaxes, but there are none, really. Astute portrayal of class, anger -- anger at being a woman too. As Woolf would note, anger. Woolf said Austen escaped it; Bronte didn't. Not GREAT writing -- I don't think in terms of style -- she doesn't have the intelligence, that peculiar intelligence which transmutes experience into great art -- but it is very sincere. Woolf is more famous, I think, because she had that -- but in both of them -- the same anger. Woolf writes with more control, I think those who have the natural gift always do. But the passion in here is raw and sustained and she does not shun any sort of sordidity. There is a neurosis about the passion itself being fetishised, which is itself interesting. It reminds me of screaming, kicking the door. Not dramatic exactly, but looking for a way out. In THAT sense, like Kafka (but Kafka is the greater artist of course, he possessed that intelligence in huge amounts) -- Kafka could do drama without drama, emotion contained in itself -- Lehmann cannot -- tries, fails, worries, flounders, succeeds. But I suppose it is this which is very touching, for me. There is something contained in great works of writing (Ulysses one might say, or even Pride and Prejudice, or even Shakespeare's Lear) which is opaque, seemingly more independent from its maker (although this is of course not the case. Not that the artists' prejudices etc don't get through, they do, just in a different way. But I'm not here to write a whole essay on aesthetics). It is touching to see the struggle of a nervy creature who feels, thinks, acts -- I think the book is more 'human' in that sense, more revealing.
November 13, 2021
How differently I feel about this sequel, this endless ENDLESS book, compared to the first novel. It had its moments, but I felt no urgency to get back to it. I think what worked in the first one, Invitation to the Waltz, the long impressionistic descriptions, the clever dialogue and internal monologues, became the undoing of this novel. The key difference I find to be the length, not only in pages but also the span of time The Weather in the Streets covers, which is considerably longer than the first book, and thus fails to maintain the reader's interest; it appears overwritten, over-analysed, and a sum of its modernist parts.The characters are well developed, granted, but despite Lehmann's depth, Woolf she is not.
January 18, 2009
An emotionally complex but far from histrionic narrative, in which the central character, a sympathetic 30-ish young woman in interwar England, her marriage failed, lucidly pulls the reader into understanding her decisions (even as you suspect they will be troublesome) to have an affair with an old flame, now married, and subsequently have an abortion. The latter was more harrowing then than now but this is not a "reefer madness" type of cautionary tale - the emotional impact is what is mainly examined. At the time, the story was considered somewhat shocking, precisely for its lack of stern retribution - the characters don't all end up dead and insane.
November 27, 2017
Both Olivia Curtis novels gave me a jolt at the last page.
Seems like Rosamond Lehmann likes to show the "moment of clarity."An epiphany in the first book made the seemingly mundane into a significant moment. An epiphany here made the so-called "best times of our lives" into something driven by petty motivations. Awful (circumstance-wise) stuff dressed in nice language. I like how this is a journey into murky grey area after the girl meets childhood crush set-up that directly recalls the events in the previous novel.
All in all, engrossing and emotionally turbulent. I read the whole book in one night.
Seems like Rosamond Lehmann likes to show the "moment of clarity."An epiphany in the first book made the seemingly mundane into a significant moment. An epiphany here made the so-called "best times of our lives" into something driven by petty motivations. Awful (circumstance-wise) stuff dressed in nice language. I like how this is a journey into murky grey area after the girl meets childhood crush set-up that directly recalls the events in the previous novel.
All in all, engrossing and emotionally turbulent. I read the whole book in one night.
December 31, 2012
This should be required reading for any young woman who is attracted to a married man! A terrible warning of how things are likely to go.
On the front of my edition there's a quote from Carmen Callil saying "The Weather in the Streets was our Bridget Jones's Diary." I don't think she's read Bridget Jones's Diary. Don't be misled. There's no humour here.
It's brilliant, though, if you can take a little misery. Considering the storyline I don't think there's too much angst - again, unlike Bridget Jones.
On the front of my edition there's a quote from Carmen Callil saying "The Weather in the Streets was our Bridget Jones's Diary." I don't think she's read Bridget Jones's Diary. Don't be misled. There's no humour here.
It's brilliant, though, if you can take a little misery. Considering the storyline I don't think there's too much angst - again, unlike Bridget Jones.
August 22, 2016
Very hit and miss for me. Lehman is deft at identifying and describing pivotal emotional moments but often this novel rambled without much structure. In a nutshell, good writing spoiled by a lack of architecture.
December 30, 2018
Story of an adulterous affair, superbly told.
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