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A Rival Creation: Reissued
At thirty-nine, Liberty Turner, mother of an illegitimate and nearly grown-up son, and daughter of a flamboyant father who had never grown up, realised that she had no talent. Once, in more prosperous times, her books had been published. Now, as relentless rejections pulverised her every effort, she faced up to the whimsical truth that while she was absolutely bursting with the creative urge, the talent just wasn't there.But as she began to observe her friends and neighbours in the village of Tollymead (not quite the idyllic community that everyone wished it was) she noticed that there were different kinds of creations. Evelyn Brooke, her eccentric and idealistic neighbour, chained herself to condemned oak trees and fought against polluters of the countryside. The vicar, resenting his congregation of middle-class - apparently - well adjusted parishioners, sought longingly for a real social problem to deal with. Even Nancy Sanderson, magistrate and secretary of the Women's League, was eventually to revolt against her life style and create something of her own.As Liberty stoically continued her progress through harvest lunches and creative writing classes, she waited for a rival creation of her own to emerge, and when Oscar Brooke moved into the village, she thought perhaps she might have found it.
- GenresFiction
351 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1994
27 people want to read
About the author
Marika Cobbold
13 books37 followersI was born in Gothenburg Sweden into a family of readers and writers. My father is a newspaper editor and columnist, as is my brother. My mother, who stayed at home looking after the family, furnished the walls of every room with shelves full of books. We were a family that read and discussed and whereas there were restrictions about what we were allowed to watch on TV, and comic books were discouraged, books were a different matter; basically, the rule was that my brother and I could read whatever we could reach. (It was a happy day when, standing on a chair, I got hold of Fanny Hill.)
Ours was a liberal and tolerant household but some sins, I had imprinted on me, were beyond the pale, book burning and censorship of the written word were two of them. Hanging on his wall at his office at the newspaper my father had a quote from Voltaire. Translated from French into Swedish and then by me, into English, it went something like this: 'I may well not agree with your opinion, but I will defend to the death your right to state it.'
Growing up I was pretty well the standard embryo writer - you know the kind? Prone to daydreaming, constantly reading, feeling as if I were on the outside looking in, finding the world of books more relevant than the 'real' world I lived in.
Aged nineteen I married a British naval officer and moved to England. Before the move I had had just one year at university so, arriving here, I had no idea of what I was going to do with my life. But not for long as my son was born the following year and three years after that, my daughter. Life as a naval wife was a mix of periods of loneliness and periods of great fun and adventure. But as we settled in the Hampshire countryside, having decided that following the fleet was not so practical with two school age children, I began to think about writing. I had always been a great 'trier outer' of things, and it has to be said, also a great quitter, but almost the minute I sat down to write I felt as if I had come home. I had never kept a diary, not for longer than a week anyway (although I bought many, especially those which had a little tiny gold key) or written stories as a child- thought them up yes, but written them down no - but here I was, feeling as if I had walked straight through a doorway marked, Life's Work.
Of course, as the weeks and months became years I realised that it would be much more of a struggle to persuade the world (other than my family who were hugely supportive) that I was a writer than it had been convincing myself. But finally, when I was thirty-five, my novel Guppies For Tea, a story about growing old and fighting back, was accepted for publication. Several other publishers had turned it down saying no one was interested in reading about old people. Luckily, as it turns out, they were wrong. Even so, if it had not been for the help of my friend the writer Elizabeth Buchan, and that of Hilary Johnson of The New Writers' Scheme, whose interest in, and support of new writing went well beyond that which was purely romantic, I might never have been published. This taught me that luck and the goodwill and support of others is essential in the writing business as in so much else.
Oddly enough, instead of feeling the euphoria I had expected once my dream of being a published author had come true, I went into a kind of prolonged sulk. I spent many hours thinking up plans for how to minimise the humiliations I was sure would follow publication, including working out how many copies of my own book I could afford to buy up and stash away in the garage.
As it turned out, Guppies For Tea, was rather a lucky book. It was picked for the first W.H. Smith's Fresh Talent promotion, ensuring nationwide review coverage, massive distribution and the kind of support most new writers can only dream of. Following that the book was short-listed for The Sunday Express Book of the Year and after that it was serialised on Woman's Hour. As one a
Ours was a liberal and tolerant household but some sins, I had imprinted on me, were beyond the pale, book burning and censorship of the written word were two of them. Hanging on his wall at his office at the newspaper my father had a quote from Voltaire. Translated from French into Swedish and then by me, into English, it went something like this: 'I may well not agree with your opinion, but I will defend to the death your right to state it.'
Growing up I was pretty well the standard embryo writer - you know the kind? Prone to daydreaming, constantly reading, feeling as if I were on the outside looking in, finding the world of books more relevant than the 'real' world I lived in.
Aged nineteen I married a British naval officer and moved to England. Before the move I had had just one year at university so, arriving here, I had no idea of what I was going to do with my life. But not for long as my son was born the following year and three years after that, my daughter. Life as a naval wife was a mix of periods of loneliness and periods of great fun and adventure. But as we settled in the Hampshire countryside, having decided that following the fleet was not so practical with two school age children, I began to think about writing. I had always been a great 'trier outer' of things, and it has to be said, also a great quitter, but almost the minute I sat down to write I felt as if I had come home. I had never kept a diary, not for longer than a week anyway (although I bought many, especially those which had a little tiny gold key) or written stories as a child- thought them up yes, but written them down no - but here I was, feeling as if I had walked straight through a doorway marked, Life's Work.
Of course, as the weeks and months became years I realised that it would be much more of a struggle to persuade the world (other than my family who were hugely supportive) that I was a writer than it had been convincing myself. But finally, when I was thirty-five, my novel Guppies For Tea, a story about growing old and fighting back, was accepted for publication. Several other publishers had turned it down saying no one was interested in reading about old people. Luckily, as it turns out, they were wrong. Even so, if it had not been for the help of my friend the writer Elizabeth Buchan, and that of Hilary Johnson of The New Writers' Scheme, whose interest in, and support of new writing went well beyond that which was purely romantic, I might never have been published. This taught me that luck and the goodwill and support of others is essential in the writing business as in so much else.
Oddly enough, instead of feeling the euphoria I had expected once my dream of being a published author had come true, I went into a kind of prolonged sulk. I spent many hours thinking up plans for how to minimise the humiliations I was sure would follow publication, including working out how many copies of my own book I could afford to buy up and stash away in the garage.
As it turned out, Guppies For Tea, was rather a lucky book. It was picked for the first W.H. Smith's Fresh Talent promotion, ensuring nationwide review coverage, massive distribution and the kind of support most new writers can only dream of. Following that the book was short-listed for The Sunday Express Book of the Year and after that it was serialised on Woman's Hour. As one a
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Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
April 14, 2013
Not only is this a very funny and delightfully unpredictable story of English village life, but it is a brilliant exploration of the true nature of the writing life. Loved it!
April 6, 2022
Brilliant.
In classic English-novel-style Marika Cobbold hides a dark theme under great wit and masterful storytelling. Anyone that grew up in, or has ever spent any time in, a small community in England will find much to remind them of those places - and will both laugh out loud and shudder at the blistering accuracy of Marika Cobbold's 'Tollymead'.
Peopled by original yet utterly recognisable charcters, A Rival Creation is a hugely entertaining read, and a very accomplished novel.
In classic English-novel-style Marika Cobbold hides a dark theme under great wit and masterful storytelling. Anyone that grew up in, or has ever spent any time in, a small community in England will find much to remind them of those places - and will both laugh out loud and shudder at the blistering accuracy of Marika Cobbold's 'Tollymead'.
Peopled by original yet utterly recognisable charcters, A Rival Creation is a hugely entertaining read, and a very accomplished novel.
January 25, 2023
Very dated and I couldn’t see where the plot was going i.e. was there actually a proper storyline except for the environmental one? I gather there was a love story in there too but I skipped to the end before it could develop so I only know the ending, which was most unsatisfactory.
January 28, 2024
Typical english story
March 10, 2017
Pleasant but dangerous!
A Rival Creation is a pleasant and sometimes funny story in the setting of English village life. At first I could not like it: too much one of those books by women for women, so to say. But after some chapters I realised that Marika Cobbold is a pleasant humoristic writer, be it without achieving a really high level. But a pleasant read it is. So I thought: four stars.
But then: after a night sleep I started wondering how it was possible that a love story like that could end as it did. So I read the last part again. And only then it struck me how impossibly christian this is. How dangerous such books are. You accept the reasoning as part of the story, but there is a game played with your mind. I hate that so intense and consider it being so wrong that I immediately deducted two stars.
A Rival Creation is a pleasant and sometimes funny story in the setting of English village life. At first I could not like it: too much one of those books by women for women, so to say. But after some chapters I realised that Marika Cobbold is a pleasant humoristic writer, be it without achieving a really high level. But a pleasant read it is. So I thought: four stars.
But then: after a night sleep I started wondering how it was possible that a love story like that could end as it did. So I read the last part again. And only then it struck me how impossibly christian this is. How dangerous such books are. You accept the reasoning as part of the story, but there is a game played with your mind. I hate that so intense and consider it being so wrong that I immediately deducted two stars.
August 15, 2011
As a child Liberty Turner was brought up by her school teacher father and they lived in a flat at the private school where he taught. Liberty became a single mother at 19, followed by a failed marriage. She moved back to a cottage in Tollymead, the village where she grew up, and settled down to life as a writer.
Now aged 39, with her only child living away from home, she has broken up with her partner and been rejected by her agent. Forced to rely on translation work, Liberty is feeling despondent until Oscar moves to the village with his beautiful wife Victoria. This is a story of village life and the various characters that inhabit it: Evelyn Brooke, Oscar’s aunt, who is not scared of protesting about the antics of some of her neighbours: Nancy Sanderson, wife of local farm supplier, Andrew: Ted Brain, the vicar who dislikes his parishioners: Neville Pyke, whose wife is obsessed by television programmes. Then there are all the characters who appear in the mysterious Tollymead Diary written anonymously for the local paper, The Tribune which is edited by Oscar.
Will Liberty finally managed to find happiness or will fate conspire against her? At first I didn’t seem to be enjoying this book as much as the previous two books I had read by Cobbold, but it grew on me with the same entertaining way of conveying some very real situations. It manages to be humorous, poignant and touching and, again, in spite of being written in the 1990s does not seem at all dated.
Now aged 39, with her only child living away from home, she has broken up with her partner and been rejected by her agent. Forced to rely on translation work, Liberty is feeling despondent until Oscar moves to the village with his beautiful wife Victoria. This is a story of village life and the various characters that inhabit it: Evelyn Brooke, Oscar’s aunt, who is not scared of protesting about the antics of some of her neighbours: Nancy Sanderson, wife of local farm supplier, Andrew: Ted Brain, the vicar who dislikes his parishioners: Neville Pyke, whose wife is obsessed by television programmes. Then there are all the characters who appear in the mysterious Tollymead Diary written anonymously for the local paper, The Tribune which is edited by Oscar.
Will Liberty finally managed to find happiness or will fate conspire against her? At first I didn’t seem to be enjoying this book as much as the previous two books I had read by Cobbold, but it grew on me with the same entertaining way of conveying some very real situations. It manages to be humorous, poignant and touching and, again, in spite of being written in the 1990s does not seem at all dated.
April 5, 2016
I didn't like this as much as the other Marika Cobbold books that I've read at first. It seemed less real, somehow-like set in a village in someone's imagination instead of somewhere real. Where is Tollymead anyway? But I did go on to enjoy it. Liberty is funny and querky and I liked Evelyn too. It was twee and a bit surreal but enjoyable. I am still looking forward to other Cobbold novels but 'Shooting Butterflies' is still my favourite.
August 9, 2016
Pleasant and witty and pointless
Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews