The Constant Nymph

by Margaret Kennedy

Tessa is the daughter of a brilliant bohemian composer, Albert Sanger, who with his "circus" of precocious children, slovenly mistress, and assortment of hangers-on, lives in a rambling chalet high in the Austrian Alps. The fourteen-year-old Tessa has fallen in love with Lewis Dodd, a gifted composer like her father. Confidently, she awaits maturity, for even his marriage to Tessa's beautiful cousin Florence cannot shatter the loving bond between Lewis and his constant nymph.

Genres: Fiction, Classics, Romance, British Literature, Literary Fiction, 20th Century, Historical Fiction

344 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1924

About the author

Margaret Kennedy was an English novelist and playwright.
She attended Cheltenham Ladies' College, where she began writing, and then went up to Somerville College, Oxford in 1915 to read history. Her first publication was a history book, A Century of Revolution (1922). Margaret Kennedy was married to the barrister David Davies. They had a son and two daughters, one of whom was the novelist Julia Birley. The novelist Serena Mackesy is her grand-daughter.

Reviews

[Roman Clodia · Rating 4 out of 5]

'It's going to be difficult. The whole thing looks so bad. She was under sixteen, you know. The law...'

I found this so much more problematic on a re-read than I apparently did the first time given my earlier review below. At the heart of the story is Lewis Dodd, a brilliant avant-garde composer who has abandoned his titled family for a rather self-indulgent life of music and irresponsibility, and the eponymous 'nymph', Teresa, who is in love with Lewis but who is also just fourteen when the book opens, and not quite sixteen when it closes. Coming from a bohemian family herself with her father another brilliant and irresponsible composer awash with mistresses (apparently drawn on Augustus John), Tessa is both old beyond her years and also too young for them.

There are interesting issues at stake in this book: the connections between art and stifling middle class conventions; what makes a marriage work - or not; responsibility or the lack of in relation to other people; patronage and power. But, through it all, what I couldn't get over is the age of Tessa. She's fourteen, turns fifteen - Lewis sits on the side of her bed and strokes her hair, she sits on his lap, at one stage he kisses her fully... is it any wonder the poor child is in love with him and can't imagine any other man ever taking his place?

That would be fine if Kennedy as author was exploring the dynamics of this kind of uncomfortable relationship but it seems that she's completely on board with it, doesn't regard it as problematic, even criminal, and reconstructs it as almost romantic. I appreciate we're far more sensitized to this kind of abuse now than when the book was written but, as Florence, Lewis' wife and Tessa's older cousin, states at the end, this is an illegal relationship as Tessa is below the age of consent at the time of writing. Florence seems far more concerned about the optics, as we'd say now, than about the effect on Tessa of Lewis' behaviour, her own complicity and that of her father who comments on how Lewis and Tessa are made for each other.

I haven't reduced my rating as I still found this engaging after a rather slow start - but there is an acute ick factor in reading this today. The ending is slightly ambiguous as Tessa elopes to Europe with Lewis but I couldn't quite work out whether their relationship is consummated or not before she abruptly dies - this could be a way of Kennedy wriggling out from that critical act but in line with other literary representations of a very young girl-woman in thrall to an older man where that pairing is represented as the height of 'romance': think Rebecca, Jane Eyre, Gigi, some Georgette Heyers (thanks to Alwynne and Rosina and the RTTC group).

So an interesting premise but with an unsavoury underpinning: this is a very good example of where I found myself having to be a resistant reader, reading against the text the author wrote.
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Innocence was the only name for the wild, imaginative solitude of her spirit

This is an elegant and surprising novel: from the start we think we know what kind of book it is as the ramshackle, bohemian life of the Sangers is contrasted to middle-class conventions – only real, even tragic, emotions intrude, forcing us to re-think our relationships to the characters.

At the heart of this book is Lewis, an awkward yet brilliant composer, and the ‘nymph’ of the title, the fifteen year old Teresa. Both characters are given a deep complexity beyond the expected stereotypes, and Kennedy proves herself an unexpectedly astute psychologist.

Originally published in 1924, this is written with all the elegance of Nancy Mitford, Stella Gibbons, and Rosamond Lehmann – and mixes the sharp and witty eye of the former two with something of the emotional intensity of the latter.

I expected this to be a witty romp of a novel and while it is that in parts, it’s also deeper and more moving than I expected.

[Alwynne]

It'd be unfair to review this fully as I ended up skimming through to the end because I disliked it so much. Originally published in 1924, this was a massive bestseller which was later adapted for cinema more than once, and also became a successful stage play. The novel is often billed as dealing with the kind of bohemian family featured in work like Dodie Smith's I Capture the Castle and I'd imagined it as a cross between that and a Nancy Mitford novel but the themes and the style are vastly different. It partly hinges on the clash between the orphaned family of an eccentric composer and the more staid family members who become involved in their care. It also centres the "love" between one of the orphans Teresa who's fourteen and a much older man Lewis, a friend of her father's and someone who subsequently marries into her extended family. The title refers to Teresa's constancy in her devotion to Lewis even though he's unavailable, although he later appears to reciprocate her feelings or at least is prepared to take advantage of them. This scenario may have worked well at the time but reading this now, the relationship between them is hard to deal with, added to which there are an unusual number of grating, anti-Semitic references - far more than I've encountered in other/similar books from the era although it's not always clear if Kennedy condones this or is exposing it as a feature of certain groups in English society. Ultimately I found her themes and material incredibly off-putting, I also found Kennedy's actual writing quite dull, it has none of the fluidity of Dodie Smith's or the wit of Nancy Mitford's.

[Rosemary Atwell · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fans of the works of Nancy Mitford and Dodie Smith will find much to love in this witty and bittersweet novel, first published in 1924.

Aside from occasional archness and the unfortunate anti-Semitism common to this period, the writing is a delight and there is enough eccentricity throughout the novel to satisfy the most ardent Anglophile.

A stylish and neglected masterpiece.

[Sara · Rating 4 out of 5]

This started out a bit slow for me, establishing the characters and the setting took a little time, but it is a Virago Classic, so I knew it was going to take off eventually–and it certainly did.

The principle story revolves around the children of Albert Sanger, a musical genius who lives a very Bohemian lifestyle, along with his six children from two marriages and his mistress and their daughter. His home is open to visitors who come and go at will, among them another, younger, musician, Lewis Dodd.

Dodd is beloved by all the children, but is particularly adored by the fourteen year old, Teresa (Tessa). With her he has a special bond that is based upon both an unspoken connection that both feel and an abiding love on Tessa’s part. Tessa is the constant nymph of the title. She nurses her love and believes she and Lewis will be together when she is old enough…but, there is a sudden twist of fate and her beautiful and charming cousin, Florence, arrives on the scene.

The situation and Tessa’s life become quite complicated from here and, as the love triangle develops, we witness the struggles of each of these characters to sort out their lives, their feelings, and their willingness to adapt and sacrifice for the other’s needs. Perhaps I should have found these characters unlikable for unsavory, but I did not. I found them hopeful, misguided and pitiable.

If I had any complaint against Margaret Kennedy’s construction, it would be that there are a number of characters in which a great deal of time is invested who then are dismissed far too casually and completely for my taste. I felt I had nurtured relationships and then been told, “oops that isn’t where this story is going after all.” It is a minor complaint, in truth, but it did keep me from giving this the full 5-stars.

This is my second Margaret Kennedy novel. I found them both interesting and compelling, so I will gladly tackle a third someday soon. Her works are not perfect, but they are worthy.

[Dorcas · Rating 4 out of 5]

Albert Sanger was a brilliant composer, English by blood, European by choice; a man of loose morals and unpredictable temperament. Following in his wake (and footsteps) is a managerie of children, both legitimate and not. This story focuses on primarily two of these children, Antonia and Tessa, (Tessa being the Constant Nymph of the title) and a young composer named Lewis Dodd whose intimate ties with the family will have far reaching effects...

So this was pretty fascinating. In some ways I couldn't help but think of the old movie "Seven Brides For Seven Brothers" when the bride arrives home only to find instead of a haven, bedlam and destruction with seven men~ her new relatives~ living like animals. This was kind of like that. Sanger's children have had no training other than an intense life-course in music. They enjoy life (or at least accept life) as they find it, but know nothing of traditional education, social graces, culture etc. They live wild and free. That is, until that momentous day when Albert Sanger dies suddenly without a penny and an aunt from England arrives to "rescue" the unfortunate children...

At times, this is a very amusing story; and yet its not a funny book. It has an almost tragic "Tess of the D'Urbervilles" feel to it. We want happiness for the characters and yet shudder to think what that may mean..

FYI: There is a sequel to this called "The Fool of The Family", which focuses on Caryl, the oldest son, a violinist.

CONTENT:
SEX: Talk of mistresses and loose living. Nothing intimate shown to reader.
VIOLENCE: None
PROFANITY: Mild (D's, B's)
MY RATING: PG

[Magdalena aka A Bookaholic Swede · Rating 4 out of 5]

It's been a while since I read this book, but I remember how much I enjoyed it!

I read this book after I saw the movie version from 1943 with Charles Boyer and Joan Fontaine. The book was just as lovely and sad as the movie was and it was very well written. The story is about a young girl that has a crush on an older man who instead is more taken with her older cousin. A very good coming of age story.

[Margaret · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was Kennedy's second novel, and easily her most famous, a bestseller also made into a very successful play and movie. The title character is Teresa (Tessa) Sanger, daughter of bohemian musician and composer Albert Sanger, whose large family lives in the Austrian Alps. They have frequent visitors to their small chalet, including gifted composer Lewis Dodd, with whom Tessa falls in love; since she's only fourteen, though, she has to wait until she's older. Unfortunately, in the meantime, Lewis marries Tessa's beautiful, assured cousin Florence, who has come to help the family when Tessa's father dies.

I think I'd have enjoyed the book more if I hadn't disliked Lewis so; I think his brilliance is supposed to be sympathetic, but I just felt sorry for everyone he came in contact with. I did like Sanger's vivid family and their eccentric lifestyle, and particularly Tessa, who's very engaging and not too consciously naïve; the settings are equally vivid, and the plot whirls along nicely. On the whole, though, I enjoyed Kennedy's Troy Chimneys more.

[Mela · Rating 5 out of 5]

My first, but definitely not last, novel by the author.

It started like a light, witty, character-driven story about an artistic (hippy) family. Then it went a bit more serious and deeper. There was also much of an issue: civilization vs more natural (unrestricted) thinking of life.

You can't forget anything that you've once learnt. You can't go back to being what you were.

I regret there wasn't more about other Sanger's children, they were such a marvelous bunch. Especially, considering how great a job did Margaret Kennedy developing Tessa, Lewis, Florence, Antonia, and Jacob. They were complex and humanly imperfect. No one was sure what she/he wanted, needed, and should do. Like us. I was gripped and carried away by the story.

[4.5 stars]

[El Convincente · Rating 3 out of 5]

A la altura de 2025, cien años después de su publicación, qué incómodo resulta leer una historia de amor entre una niña de catorce años y un joven de veintimuchos o incluso treinta y pocos (no se especifica) que lleva siendo amigo de la familia desde que la niña era todavía más pequeña.

Por no hablar del reparto de simpatías entre los personajes. La niña y el joven son los héroes. Los personajes que ven su relación como un amor inevitable están retratados como simpáticos y buenrolleros; los que no (muy pocos), como antipáticos y rígidos.

Y encima, para mayor engorro, la autora añade un triángulo amoroso descompensado, en el que nadie parece odiar al vértice de peor conducta. Muy frustrante para alguien como yo, que ante un triángulo amoroso siempre me pongo del lado del integrante que tiene menos información (el marido de Meryl Streep en Los puentes de Madison).

Si me dijeran que Margaret Kennedy admiraba a Edith Wharton, no me sorprendería. Si me dijeran que Sonrisas y lágrimas (The Sound oh Music) se inspiró (en parte) en esta novela, tampoco me sorprendería. ¿El eslabón perdido entre Edith Wharton y Sonrisas y lágrimas? Yo lo pondría en una faja.

Y a pesar de todo no me ha disgustado. Margaret Kennedy narra con buen pulso. La presentación de los personajes es toda una lección sobre cómo estructurar la narración para facilitar las cosas al lector. Algo que mi memoria maltrecha siempre agradece.

Durante el primer cuarto de la novela estaba convencido de que mi reseña iba a empezar así: Otra novela inglesa más a la que le calzo cuatro estrellas por la cara. Pero ya ven que no. El planteamiento amoroso tiene la culpa.

[Lauren]

I'm not going to really review this because I think the time for me to read a implicitly anti-Semitic novel about a pedophile disguised as a love story is over. And if you tell me that's just the times (1924) and I should get over it, I'm going to punch you in the face, so don't even bother.

[Rosamund Taylor · Rating 2 out of 5]

**It's really hard to take a book seriously in which a main character dies from trying to open a window.**

[Jane · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Constant Nymph was wildly successful in the 1920s. A bestselling novel! A popular play! A Hollywood film! And yet it disappeared. Fell out of print, until Virago picked it up and made it a Modern Classic – number 121!

There was an intriguing love triangle at the centre of the story, set against a colourful backdrop.

Lewis Dodd was a young composer, hugely promising and already enjoying a degree of success. He came from a conventional English family but he was drawn to a freer, more bohemian way of life. And he was particularly drawn to ‘Sanger’s Circus.’

Albert Sanger was a musical genius, a feted composer, but a difficult man. He expected attention, expected the world to revolve around him, and he had the charm, and of course the success, to make it so.

He lived high in the Alps with the six children of his two marriages, an idle mistress and her baby, and a stream of visitors to pay court to the great man.

The two children of his first marriage were virtually grown up. Caryl was a gifted musician who was beginning to follow in his father’s footsteps, and Kate was a capable young woman who brought order to the chaotic household and had musical and theatrical talents too. Their futures were assured.

The children of his second marriage were just a little younger, but much less grown up. They were children still, bright, free-spirited, open, honest, and completely unfettered by convention.

Toni knew that she was destined to be an adored wife, or failing that a courtesan.

And Tessa was the constant nymph of the title. She hads loved Lewis for as long as she could remember and was waiting to grow up and into an adult love with him. And though nothing was said he knew that too, understood that it ws right, and what should and would be.

Tessa was young and yet that didn’t seem wrong, because she had seen and heard so much of life in her father’s household, and because both she and Lewis tacitly recognised that their love was something still to come. something in the future.

And then there was Pauline, younger, more forthright, and still very much a child. And Paul, younger again but wiser, secure in the knowledge that he would be a musician one day and that he would work towards that.

A wonderful cast, a wonderful setting, and there could have been a simple, classical romance set against that colourful background.

But Margaret Kennedy did something different and took her story on a much more interesting direction.

And at this point I should say that she told her story beautifully. I appreciated her clear understanding of character, her mix of intelligence and empathy, her lovely way with metaphors, and her ability to move her plot at a steady pace.

Albert Sanger died. Suddenly, unexpectedly, and leaving not a penny.

Caryl, Kate and Toni find their own paths, leaving Tessa, Pauline and Paul to be ‘rescued’ by their mother’s family. Because, of course, a conventional English family will do the right thing for their young relations.

Florence Churchill, a bright, educated, modern young woman was despatched to sort things out. She was charmed by her young relations, but she was shocked by their bohemian lifestyle. And it was quickly decided that the children must be sent to school to prepare them for the future.

And Florence fell in love with Lewis, and he with her. They marry, but their marriage is not a success. Each had been drawn to an idea of the other but neither had really understood the other’s way of life, what that meant, what compromises might have to be met.

The viewpoint shifted between them and I found that I could understand both, though I found both infuriating and wished that I could make them see the reality of their situation.

But their lack of sight, lack of understanding, set off Tessa’s clarity perfectly.

And though Tessa remained in the background, the perspective moving between Lewis and Florence, I found that I understood her perfectly.

She was desperately unhappy. She hated school, she missed her home, she didn’t know where she was going. Though still believed that she and Lewis were meant for each other.

When Tessa’s younger siblings persuaded her to run away from school that cat really was put among the pigeons. Florence said they must go back, but Lewis said no. It was easy to find alternatives for Paulina and Paul, but not for Tessa. She had one ambition but she knew she could not say what it was.

And so the stage was set, for a most unexpected ending.

It left me not knowing what to say.

Except that I liked the book, I can understand its success, but I was sorry that I didn’t see a little more of Tessa’s siblings in the second half of the story.

Good though it was I can’t help thinking that there was a bigger, richer story that might have come out of ‘Sanger’s Circus.’

[Sarah · Rating 4 out of 5]

"There's no use crying about it."
"No use," agreed Teresa.

But the tears poured down her face, whether she would or no, until she conceived the happy idea of trying to water a primula with them. Immediately the flood was dried, after the manner of tears when a practical use has been found for them.

"And it would have been interesting," said Paulina sorrowfully, "to see if it would have made any difference to the primula."

Margaret Kennedy examines interpersonal dynamics with a keen eye and an acerbic wit. I was fascinated by her cast of wild and ethereal artists. Trouble is, there were entirely too many of them! Often, they all sort of blurred together for me. And, Kennedy's voice, though not unsympathetic to her characters, is so wry and detached as to keep them at something of a distance. I wanted to get a little closer to this constant nymph Teresa. But, as with her mythological counterpart, one is only given brief glimpses:
Decidedly she was the least attractive of them; in feature and person she might almost have been called ugly, though improvement was possible if, on a richer diet, she should take it into her head to grow. The meagreness of her under-nourished body contrasted ill with a certain amplitude of scale in her face, which was round and firm, with a finely curved chin and large, wide set eyes. Her mouth was small, and, though the fullness of her lips gave it generosity, there was a sardonic turn about it that Florence did not like to see in so young a girl.

Poor Tessa! Born a century too soon! ..

[Matthew · Rating 2 out of 5]

The Virago book publishing company has such a noble aim that it seems like a crime to say anything against it. The company seeks to revive forgotten works by female authors, and the back of my book suggests a wish to move away from traditional definitions of what constitutes a ‘classic’ in bringing them back.

This sounds fine in principle, but it rests on an assumption that female writers are forgotten because of a patriarchal publishing system or a field of literary criticism dominated by men, whereas the majority of authors (male or female) whose works have been lost were usually forgotten for a good reason, and exhuming their works is not doing anyone a favour.

In all fairness, Virago does not seek to revive the careers of the worst kind of writer, and there is nothing in their books that compares with the 50 Shades trilogy in sheer direness. Nonetheless most of the revived books are of a kind that I could only give a two- or three-star rating to them. In all their years, Virago have not discovered a new Virginia Woolf, Jane Austen or George Eliot, perhaps because there are no new ones to find.

The reason why there are so few classic female novelists of any great stamp is not that women are less talented than men. When a woman of genius gets the chance to write a book, she can produce books every bit as wonderful as the best male novels.

It is just that most of those budding Edith Whartons, Charlotte Brontes and Mrs Gaskells either failed to get their works published in a male environment, and those manuscripts are now lost to public view, or else they did not get the opportunity to even write a book. As Virginia Woolf would say, they did not get a room of one’s own away from the pressures of child rearing and domestic duties in which they could write brilliant literature.

It is a tragic loss, and one that sadly cannot be filled in by unearthing deservedly forgotten middlebrow authors that were popular once, but whose works now seem more disposable.

One such work is The Constant Nymph by Margaret Kennedy, a work that seemed scandalously open in its sexual content in 1924, but which has little more to offer now.

The action of the book centres on the Sanger family. Albert Sanger is a British composer of reasonable talent who is unappreciated in his lifetime, and lives abroad with a large family, taken from various wives. In attendance on them is Lewis Dodd, another gifted composer who has a close relationship with one of the many Sanger daughters, Tessa.

Unfortunately for the family, Sanger dies penniless and the family are broken up. Relations of one of Sanger’s previous wives step in, and offer schools for the young Sangers. The expedition to the Austrian Alps to see the Sangers is led by the headstrong Florence Churchill, who soon sets her eyes on Lewis. Her strong personality overwhelms Lewis and they marry, but their relationship is soon in trouble on account of Lewis’s love for Tessa.

Kennedy firmly takes the side of the Bohemian Sangers and Lewis against the conventional upper class figures such as the Churchills, but she fails to make a case why we should do the same. The stifling snobbery and elitism of the British upper class is only echoed in subtler forms in the artistic elitism and snobbery of the Sangers, who despise people who do not understand music.

This applies to any outsiders that encroach on the family. Sanger’s wife Linda is seen as a vulgarian by the family, as is her one daughter Susan. Anyone outside their artistic elite is treated with contempt by the Sangers, with Kennedy’s approval, and mother and daughter soon vanish, unlamented from the novel.

Similarly Kennedy expresses a little sympathy for the Russian choreographer Trigorin, suggesting his creepily excessive admiration for composers gives a misleading impression of his kind nature. However she never seriously challenges the Sangers’ dismissal of him, and Trigorin is never given the chance to show his better nature.

Jacob Birnbaum fares a little better in that he gets to marry Toni Sanger, the only happy relationship in the book. Nonetheless the many anti-Semitic comments about Birnbaum pass unchallenged, and there is little reason to imagine Kennedy has much love of the character.

So that leaves the triangle of Lewis, Florence and Tessa, and this does not make for good reading. Lewis is a distinctly unprepossessing hero, however indulgent Kennedy may be to him. He is selfish and cruel, and rarely does a nice thing for anyone. He seems to think that his position as an artist frees him from good manners, and even kindness.

Florence is treated unsympathetically, yet she begins as one of the better characters in the book. She treats the journey to see her relatives as an adventure, and is genuinely excited. She is seriously taken with Lewis, and imagines being helpmate to a brilliant composer. Sadly she ignores all the warning signs that Lewis is not the man she takes him to be.

As a result Tessa’s character rapidly degenerates. She goes from strong-minded but innocent traveller to forceful and pushy suitor who determinedly gets what she wants. When she finds that what she wanted is not as good as it seems, she becomes spiteful and bitter. Curiously Florence and her father seem initially nicer than any of the Sangers we are supposed to like.

Finally there is the problem with Tessa. Kennedy overloads the book with far too many Sanger siblings and it is a long time before Tessa’s personality emerges from beneath the stronger personalities of characters whose dominance in the book proves temporary.

Finally the other characters leave the book or occupy a smaller role, and we get to see Tessa as the intelligent and surprisingly mature person she is. Herein lies the problem. She is surprisingly mature because she is a 14-year-old who turns 15 in the book. So the great romance of the book is between an adult man and an underage girl, which leaves one with an icky feeling not intended by Kennedy.

Finally this situation ends in the way that books often end when authors do not know how to finish a story – with a death. I won’t say whose, or to what extent this resolves the various problems presented. In all fairness, most of the best novelists do the same thing. You either need a death or a marriage. If a marriage isn’t possible, you go with a death.

The Constant Nymph is perfectly readable, and not excruciatingly awful. However it is also not terribly good either. It is a passable and mediocre work. Next time someone is looking for early twentieth century authors to exhume, I suggest they leave this one buried.

[Lauren · Rating 5 out of 5]

Oh my goodness an older book that is both very old fashioned and modern .about a bohemian family and their home on a hillside in the Tyrol .their Utopia the children raised up wild ,half educated , outspoken wise beyond their years. I have never read a book quite like this most of the characters musicians or music writers. lots of bucolic life and the adolescent confusion that comes with such a free upbringing. Visitors coming and going sleeping wherever they could . Very ahead of the times .

[Carla Remy · Rating 5 out of 5]

05/2015

This should just be called 'Sanger's Circus.'
Or something like that. Not The Constant Nymph.
The "bohemian", charmingly eccentric family is the heart of the book, the center of the story. Known as Sanger's Circus. Title right there.
Of course, this is 90 years later. And that great beginning to the book lasts only 80 pages. But it is still a very, very good novel. Somewhat in the vein of Wharton.
The end is a bit cheesy. The title is terrible. I think it's supposed to mean something like The Eternal Virgin. The concept of dying before you lost your virginity may have been more significant in 1924. Still. Hardly seems like the real point of the book. Of course, it is 90 years later now. 91. And The Constant Nymph was super popular in the 1920s. Maybe it came off differently then.
I've read this a few times. Since I was 21. That early, "bohemian," part is just so good. They perform an opera known as, "Breakfast With the Borgias." !!!
Can we retitle this? So it doesn't just get forgotten and buried in the past? It's better than that.

[Theresa · Rating 4 out of 5]

A complex tale somewhat flawed by its at-times chaotic mix of too many characters, with some of their fates trailing off into oblivion. The crux of the story lies within a few of the extended bohemian family, and drew me in as it went to its surprising conclusion. I loved the musical angle, which is very much of its time, and can forgive the non-pc nature of the story for the same reason. I plan to explore several more of Margaret Kennedy's novels.

[JacquiWine · Rating 3 out of 5]

(3.5 Stars)

The Constant Nymph (1924) was Margaret Kennedy’s most commercially successful novel, spawning both a play featuring Noel Coward and a film starring one of my favourite actresses, Joan Fontaine. As a book, it shares much with another of my recent reads, Edith Wharton’s 1928 novel, The Children: a man who enters into a relationship with an underage girl; an unconventional family living a bohemian lifestyle; and a brood of rather engaging, precocious children to name but a few. While the Wharton explores these issues from the male perspective, Kennedy’s novel places a young girl at the centre of its narrative. The individual in question is Tessa, the fourteen-year-old daughter of Albert Sanger, a brilliant yet difficult composer who lives in a rambling chalet in the Austrian Alps.

As the novel opens, Lewis Dodd, a young English composer of some promise is travelling to Austria to visit the much-feted Sanger, whom he views as something of a mercurial genius. With his rather conventional upbringing, Lewis finds himself attracted to Sanger and his ‘circus’ – an assortment of children from various marriages, Sanger’s current wife, the beautiful but lazy Linda, and various hangers-on. Their lifestyles are free-spirited and unconventional with little regard for the customs of the broader society at large. For instance, it is Sanger’s eldest daughter, Kate, who manages the household, her desire for some degree of organisation far outweighing that of Linda.

Young Tessa is the constant nymph of the novel’s title, a wonderfully unfiltered, warm-hearted girl, who at fourteen is already wildly in love with Lewis and his passion for the arts. Lewis, for his part, is also attracted to Tessa with her wild, unfettered innocence, viewing her as the most interesting of Sanger’s daughters.

To read the rest of my review, please visit:

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

[Brian E Reynolds · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is an intriguing tale about the family of a relatively unappreciated libertine composer named Sanger who lives in a chalet in the Swiss Alps in bohemian style with his 7 children from three women. Circumstances force the four children of his second wife Evelyn to fall under the custody of Evelyn’s family in England, mainly her cousin Florence. The four include three young girls, Antonia, Tessa and Paulina, ages 16, 14 and 12 at story’s start. The middle one, Tessa, is the titled character and the man she is constant to is her father’s longtime friend and musical compatriot, the composer Lewis Dodd. But her sister Antonia is also a constant nymph, to an older man named Jacob. The plot thickens when Lewis becomes enamored with Cousin Florence who arrives at the Sangers’ to take the children to England.

Kennedy writes in a clear fluid prose style that is proficient at both describing settings and providing character insight. Additionally, the setting, characters and plot she created felt different than what I normally experience. I appreciate that.

While many of the characters were unlikeable, their interactions still fascinated me. But not all the characters were unlikeable. Florence is immediately likeable when she enters as the one character that a reader can identify with. Florence’s father becomes a surprisingly sympathetic figure. Technically, the Sanger ‘young bohemians’ are not really unlikeable in themselves. It’s more that they have unlikeable behaviors and attitudes from being either ‘spoiled’ or left ‘unspoiled’ by their cavalier upbringing. It’s really the middle aged and young men that are so unlikeable,

The two female heroines, Tessa and Florence are both more complex characters than first presented to the reader. While Florence does start as the one identifiable character and Tessa as the untamed young nymph, their characters develop over the story so that a readers’ sympathy for one or the other can vary at any given point of time.

The ‘nymph’ aspect of both Antonia and Tessa’s relations to their older men managed to creep me out far less than I anticipated. I attribute this both to Kennedy’s skill and my ability to place the story in its context of the 1923 bohemian artist set.

I enjoyed this story very much. Kennedy’s interesting settings, characters and plot along with her captivating prose style made this an engaging, page-turning reading experience. This is my third novel of Kennedy’s and she has been impressive with each. This one I rate as 4+ stars.

[Lory Hess · Rating 3 out of 5]

See my full review at The Emerald City Book Review. I found this novel a fascinating window into a time when the world had been shaken by one war but was not yet foreseeing the next, when social and artistic certainties were being questioned in all sorts of ways. The main characters belong to a Bohemian artistic circle centered around an expatriate English composer living in the Alps, and the first part of the book introduces us to his extremely unconventional menage, including a brood of children by various wives and mistresses. The "nymph" of the title is one of these, Teresa (known as Tessa), a waif type who suffers from a silent passion for another, younger composer, Lewis Dodd, who loves her as well but doesn't yet realize she is his perfect mate (she's only fourteen!).

When her father dies, Tessa's comfortably unkempt and eccentric world is invaded by the forces of conventionality and good breeding in the form of her cousin Florence, who comes to rescue the children and take them away to be properly educated. When she takes Lewis as well, though, the trouble begins. Back in England, the children can't be forced into the mold of proper society, and Lewis starts to feel the prison bars closing in too. A startling denouement left me with the feeling that Kennedy didn't quite know how to finish off the situation she had gotten her characters into. I could have wished for a more complex conclusion to a work that started off in such a promising way.

Just before things unraveled so unsatisfyingly, there were interesting intimations that the struggle between Tessa and Florence reflected a larger, almost mythic battle. Stories have always been woven about how the conflict between the forces of nature and spontaneity, life-giving but formless, and the civilizing, domesticating impulse that is meant to tame and channel those forces in a positive way, but which threatens to harden into a deadening mania for control. The Constant Nymph shows how the tales of nymphs and enraged goddess-wives live on in our own times, as those ancient forces still slumber within us all. How do we deal with them in the modern world? It's an interesting question, but one that Kennedy didn't quite answer.

[Bree (AnotherLookBook) · Rating 4 out of 5]

A novel about a circle of bohemian adults and children in the months following the death of their father and mentor, a brilliant but little-known English composer. 1924.

Full review (and other recommendations!) at Another look book

A gem of a book, truly. Not my favorite Margaret Kennedy--The Feast and Lucy Carmichael still hold that honor, as well as the infinitely prestigious awards of #1 and #2 Bree's Best Books of All Time. But The Constant Nymph is still some really solid literature. Kennedy's writing is as brilliant and poignant as ever. It features a pretty large cast, which also seems to be a Kennedy feature. I personally love the "constant nymph" title character, Teresa/Tessa, but the good news is that if her story doesn't speak the strongest to you, there are several other characters to choose from. I especially recommend this if you like stories about precocious young people and are interested in the art/music scene of 1920s Europe.

[Ian Mond · Rating 2 out of 5]

I know it’s of it’s time, but I couldn’t get past the creepy pedophilia and the anti-semitism (at this point in her career, Kennedy really loathed the Jews, and apparently her first novel was as bad, though given her upbringing it’s not entirely surprising). If I could squint past these issues, the Sangers are each a marvellous creation. But given the love triangle at the centre of the book involves a man in his 30s lusting over a 14 year old - apparently a common trope in fiction back in the early 20th Century - it’s hard not to feel ick about it. (Did I mention the anti-semitism... I’ve never blanched and cringed so much at the word Jew - already a harsh word even when said in a neutral or positive way).

[Katharine Holden · Rating 1 out of 5]

Horribly, painfully anti-semitic throughout. All the other non-English characters are stereotypes, but they are minor characters - the anti-semitism is relentless. The main characters are silly and should all take cold showers. A ridiculous novel, full of overwriting. I find it hard to believe it was turned into a successful play starring Noël Coward - they must have kept the title and nothing else.

[Andrew H · Rating 2 out of 5]

Margaret Kennedy initiated the Bohemian novel and The Constant Nymph begins with a portrait of the lawless Sanger family as its children whirl around their carefree patriarch, Albert Sanger. The tone of the novel is awkward -- is feels as if it written simply for humour, and some of the comedy is derived from unsettling stereotypes: the amoral artist and wealthy Jew. But the novel leaves this behind as it shifts to teenage sexuality and the love between an adult and child. Ultimately, like Kilvert's diary and its sexual glorification of little nymphs, The Constant Nymph left me squirming.

[Kirsty · Rating 3 out of 5]

Upon its publication in 1924, Margaret Kennedy's second novel, The Constant Nymph, leapt straight to the top of the bestseller list.  Despite its subsequent fall from popularity, it has been made into three films and a play, and consequently took its place upon the Virago Modern Classics list.  The novel has recently been reissued by Vintage Books, along with several of Kennedy's other novels.

In this, its newest volume, The Constant Nymph has been introduced by Joanna Briscoe.  She believes that whilst the novel has 'aged notably well', it has certainly 'suffered from neglect' since its publication, 'as its author has fallen perilously out of fashion'.  She goes on to say that the novel is 'startlingly modern in its outlook'.  Whilst Briscoe's introduction is interesting, it does give rather a lot of the plot away, which is a real shame.  One cannot help but think that an afterword would have been more fitting in this case.

The premise of the novel is intriguing: 'Avant-garde composer Albert Sanger lives in a ramshackle chalet in the Swiss Alps, surrounded by his "circus" of assorted children, admirers and slatternly mistress... When Sanger dies, his circus must break up and each find a more conventional way of life.  But fourteen-year-old Teresa is already deeply in love: for her, the outside world holds nothing but tragedy.'  The object of Teresa's love is a man twice her age, a friend of her father's whom she has known since her early childhood, and whom she decides to elope with.  This earns inevitable comparisons to Vladimir Nabokov's controversial Lolita.  Whilst The Constant Nymph is not as startling as the aforementioned for the mostpart, some sections of the story do prove rather unsettling.

In terms of Kennedy's writing, whilst her descriptions are nice, the majority of her writing feels quite flat.  The third person perspective which is used throughout creates a curious detachment from both characters and plot. Before I began the novel, I believed that Kennedy's prose would be perfectly sculpted, but in reality, it felt rather disappointing.  The whole of the novel is rendered two-dimensional in consequence, and it does not serve to grab the reader as it really should.

[Jill · Rating 3 out of 5]

From what I've gathered from the back-of-book summary, this may have been the 1920s equivalent of 50 Shades. It was the top-selling book of the decade (in England? overall? who knows), has some scandalous affairs, and displays the relationship/character depth of a wading pool.

Now y'all know me: I love my cross-generational shit, but I can't stand romance novels. This was way more 'romance novel' than 'cross-generational shit' -- and because the characters were all so flat and vapid, except maybe Florence who was profoundly unlikeable, it was like cotton candy for the brain. Worse, actually, because I always start these things excited to see where the cross-gen goes (there's so much depth and play you can pull out of stories like this, h o n e s t l y)...but am inevitably disappointed.

In this case, it was because Lewis & Tess had zero chemistry. I've never read Kennedy before, but I won't again -- the writing was engaging enough, to the point where I really enjoyed the story and general vibe (thus 3 stars), but it was also, paradoxically, seriously blah. Characters lacked motivation; everything was told instead of shown (increasingly becoming a personal pet peeve). All the characters shouted about Lewis and Tess being madly in love, but it just never came through in their interactions. Yeah, Tess cried about Lewis a lot, and Lewis became suddenly and weirdly obsessed with Tess, but there was no build and less payoff. Meh.

I did appreciate the end -- no spoilers, but it builds to an inevitably doomed conclusion, and you can't help but feel somewhat satisfied. But overall: it's fun, I enjoyed reading it, but paaaaaass. I haven't (& won't) read 50 Shades, but from my intoxicated viewing of the first movie...I bet Margaret Kennedy and E. L. James would have a lot to not-discuss.

[Carolyn Drake · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read this as a recommendation from the excellent Backlisted podcast, which has an episode devoted to this book here. Margaret Kennedy wrote this in 1924 and it sold a million copies, winning popular and literary acclaim. Nearly 100 years on, it's problematic reading in a couple of ways: it reflects the anti-semitism that pervaded society at the time, with throwaway comments by the characters that are shocking to modern sensitivities; and the romantic relationship at the novel's heart is between a fifteen year old girl and a man nearly twice her age. You simply cannot ignore these thorny issues, but it is possible to contextualise them as being a reflection of the age. Looking past these, the tale itself is the wild and heartfelt adventures of the bohemian family of a famous composer, whose 'circus' of numerous children live a 'semi-feral', exuberant life in the Alps. Responsibility and respectability is enforced upon them when their father dies and the stuffy British uncle and cousin step in as civilising influences. A love triangle is set up between Tessa (the loyal teenage heroine) Lewis (a young composer and friend of the family), and Florence (Tessa's beautiful, controlling cousin). A literary potboiler, and there's nothing wrong with that.
Apart from the anti-semitism and paedophilia, obviously.

[Corina Romonti · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book had been on my TBR shelf for about 4 years. I think I scooped it out of a book bin when I first joined PRH. I had never heard of it before but the cover and the blurb intrigued me. I’m here to tell you that this book is definitely of its time and I’m not sure what readers today would get out of it. I liked Kennedy’s writing and she has a very funny turn of phrase (haha funny) but I couldn’t see much else beyond that.
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For starter it has awful antisemitic sentiments and it’s quite clear to me that they represent Kennedy’s views because they’re not there to make a point and tell us something about any of the characters. They feel gratuitous and quite icky. Secondly, if you are going to write a book about relationships between grown men and underage girls give me some context and exploration of the theme. This is literally just these two men groomed two very young girls and end of story. I’m not sure Kennedy even sees the whole thing as grooming because it all seems oddly romanticised from where I’m standing. And before anyone talks about different times bla bla bla - the characters admit themselves that those types of relationships are illegal so... The story itself wasn’t particularly interesting and the ending was very silly. It’s one that personally I wouldn’t recommend. I think someone compared it with Lolita. Please don’t be fooled, Lolita it is not! I

[Sally Simone · Rating 2 out of 5]

I really struggled with this book. The only reason I saw it through was because I was convinced I was missing something that wouldn’t become clear until the end. Sadly, I was mistaken (or I really did miss the point of the whole novel). The story began promisingly enough, but then sort of meandered off via a vast array of characters, all of whom were rather two dimensional, in my opinion. I found it difficult to empathise with the Lewis/Florence/Tessa triangle as none of the characters were particularly likeable and Lewis was totally unconvincing as a love interest!
My disappointment stems from the effort spent tracking down this novel having read and enjoyed The Feast and thinking I had discovered a new favourite author. I usually enjoy a period drama, but with the exception of a few wry smiles this left me cold.

[Stephanie · Rating 3 out of 5]

If I'd read this as a teenager I think I'd have a different view of it.I couldn't really get past that Tess was 14/15 and Lewis twice her age. I couldn't understand why no-one in the book ever said it was wrong of Lewis to encourage Tess. There was a scene where she acted as hostess for him in lieu of his wife and everyone thought it natural for them to be together, how suited they were.
That said, the book was well written, but of its time, a bit old fashioned.