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A Wreath for the Enemy
In my youth...I had an overwhelming passion to be like other people. Other people were a whole romantic race, miles beyond my reach. Not now. I don't really thnk that they exist, except in the eye of the beholder.' When Penelope Wells, precocious daughter of a poet, meets the well-behaved middle-class Bradley children, it is love at first sight. But their parents are horrified by the Wells' establishment- a distinctly bohemian hotel on the French Riviera- and the friendship ends in tears. Out of these childhood betrayals grow Penelope, in love with an elusive ideal of order and calm, and Don Bradley, in rebellion against the phillistine values of his parents. Compellingly told in a series of first-person narratives, their stories involve them with the Duchess, painted and outre; the crippled genius Crusoe; Crusoe's brother Livesey, and the eccentric Cara, whose brittle and chaotic life collides explosively with Penelope's.
268 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1952
20 people are currently reading
889 people want to read
About the author
Pamela Frankau
51 books9 followersPopular British novelist. Her father was novelist Gilbert Frankau, her mother satirist Julia Davis, and her uncle British radio comedian, Ronald Frankau.
Her writing success came when she was only twenty, with The Marriage of Harlequin (1927). A relationship with the married Humbert Wolfe ended only with his death in 1940. She then ceased to write for a long period.
During the Second World War, she worked for the BBC, the Ministry of Food, and the Auxiliary Territorial Service.
First published in 1954, A Wreath for the Enemy is perhaps her best loved novel and still in print on both sides of the Atlantic. In the novel the events of one night transform what appears at first to be a typical adolescent crisis into a prolonged struggle for self-definition on the part of the novel's teenage protagonist. In part autobiographical, Frankau clearly identified with her lead character who is presented as a writer in development.
Frankau became a Roman Catholic convert in 1942, and spent much time in the United States. She was married there, though only for a few years. She returned to England in 1953. A long lesbian relationship with the theatre director Margaret Webster began in the 1950s.
Her writing success came when she was only twenty, with The Marriage of Harlequin (1927). A relationship with the married Humbert Wolfe ended only with his death in 1940. She then ceased to write for a long period.
During the Second World War, she worked for the BBC, the Ministry of Food, and the Auxiliary Territorial Service.
First published in 1954, A Wreath for the Enemy is perhaps her best loved novel and still in print on both sides of the Atlantic. In the novel the events of one night transform what appears at first to be a typical adolescent crisis into a prolonged struggle for self-definition on the part of the novel's teenage protagonist. In part autobiographical, Frankau clearly identified with her lead character who is presented as a writer in development.
Frankau became a Roman Catholic convert in 1942, and spent much time in the United States. She was married there, though only for a few years. She returned to England in 1953. A long lesbian relationship with the theatre director Margaret Webster began in the 1950s.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 54 reviews
August 25, 2023
4.5 stars.
This book is divided into 3 parts. Part 1 was absolutely brilliant. We are introduced to Penelope, a shy, reserved 14 year old who lives on the Riviera with her father and stepmother. Into her life come the Bradley’s-they are renting the place next door. They are everything that Penelope craves- a normal family. But over the course of their time together, Penelope come to realize some important truths. I loved watching her change.
In Part 2, there is a sudden shift to Don Bradley, now 17. It was jarring at first until I settled into his story and into his “coming of age” realizations. His main struggle was not accepting his parents’ ideals any longer. Something that occurred in Part 1 affected him enough to enable him to change. Both he and Penelope were affected in different, but life changing ways.
In Part 3, we encounter 3 different voices. We are back to Penelope and we are introduced to Livesey and Cara. Again, each time I started a new section I had to settle into it. I couldn’t figure out (at first) how Livesey and Cara figured into the narrative. When it all came together, I realized how brilliantly it was put together.
By the end of the book, our primary narrator, Penelope, a would be writer, starts writing this book- a symbolic wreath to various people that have been part of her coming of age. To be honest, the more I reflect on this book, the more impressed i am by what the author achieved. The writing is pitch perfect. Other than I was slow to appreciate the transitions, this would have been a solid 5 stars.
Published: 1954
This book is divided into 3 parts. Part 1 was absolutely brilliant. We are introduced to Penelope, a shy, reserved 14 year old who lives on the Riviera with her father and stepmother. Into her life come the Bradley’s-they are renting the place next door. They are everything that Penelope craves- a normal family. But over the course of their time together, Penelope come to realize some important truths. I loved watching her change.
In Part 2, there is a sudden shift to Don Bradley, now 17. It was jarring at first until I settled into his story and into his “coming of age” realizations. His main struggle was not accepting his parents’ ideals any longer. Something that occurred in Part 1 affected him enough to enable him to change. Both he and Penelope were affected in different, but life changing ways.
In Part 3, we encounter 3 different voices. We are back to Penelope and we are introduced to Livesey and Cara. Again, each time I started a new section I had to settle into it. I couldn’t figure out (at first) how Livesey and Cara figured into the narrative. When it all came together, I realized how brilliantly it was put together.
By the end of the book, our primary narrator, Penelope, a would be writer, starts writing this book- a symbolic wreath to various people that have been part of her coming of age. To be honest, the more I reflect on this book, the more impressed i am by what the author achieved. The writing is pitch perfect. Other than I was slow to appreciate the transitions, this would have been a solid 5 stars.
Published: 1954
July 30, 2024
A coming of age story in three parts.
The Duchess and the smugs 5*s
The Smugs eye view 4*s
The Road by the River 3*s
I loved the first part of this book, which is narrated by a young Penelope. She is living in an hotel on the French Riviera with her bohemian father, a poet, and her step-mother. She is given the kind of freedom that few children her age are allowed, but she would like a bit of order and routine in her life. When asked what she wants to do, she thinks the truthful reply would have been, "To be like other people. To live in England: with an ordinary father and mother who do not keep an hotel. To stop having dooms; never to be told that I am a genius, and to have people of my own age to play with so that I need not spend my life listening to grown-ups"
When a very 'county' family take the villa next door, she spends her time watching the children and wanting to be friend; she does meet them and they invite her to go swimming with them, she says "Painful as it is to refuse, my father has aquired visitors and I have sworn to be sociable. The penalty is ostracism." (Her language is fantastic), but eventually, they do form a friendship; their very 'respectable' parents are uneasy about exposing their children to the kind of lifestyle led by Penelope.
The second part is narrated by Don, he is now a few years older, and still remembers events from that holiday. He is starting to rebel against his parents, and spending time with the unconventional Crusoe, wheelchair bound, but with a stable full of horses, which Don goes to ride.
The third part was for me, the least enjoyable despite much of it being narrated again by Penelope, who is now at Oxford. The lives of the three children from that holiday come together again, but not in a way that might be expected.
Very glad to find a new author, I just wish her books were more easily available.
The Duchess and the smugs 5*s
The Smugs eye view 4*s
The Road by the River 3*s
I loved the first part of this book, which is narrated by a young Penelope. She is living in an hotel on the French Riviera with her bohemian father, a poet, and her step-mother. She is given the kind of freedom that few children her age are allowed, but she would like a bit of order and routine in her life. When asked what she wants to do, she thinks the truthful reply would have been, "To be like other people. To live in England: with an ordinary father and mother who do not keep an hotel. To stop having dooms; never to be told that I am a genius, and to have people of my own age to play with so that I need not spend my life listening to grown-ups"
When a very 'county' family take the villa next door, she spends her time watching the children and wanting to be friend; she does meet them and they invite her to go swimming with them, she says "Painful as it is to refuse, my father has aquired visitors and I have sworn to be sociable. The penalty is ostracism." (Her language is fantastic), but eventually, they do form a friendship; their very 'respectable' parents are uneasy about exposing their children to the kind of lifestyle led by Penelope.
The second part is narrated by Don, he is now a few years older, and still remembers events from that holiday. He is starting to rebel against his parents, and spending time with the unconventional Crusoe, wheelchair bound, but with a stable full of horses, which Don goes to ride.
The third part was for me, the least enjoyable despite much of it being narrated again by Penelope, who is now at Oxford. The lives of the three children from that holiday come together again, but not in a way that might be expected.
Very glad to find a new author, I just wish her books were more easily available.
November 15, 2013
In my youth...I had an overwhelming passion to be like other people. Other people were a whole romantic race, miles beyond my reach. Not now. I don't really think that they exist, except in the eye of the beholder.
The dream of other people is dead. I had looked forward to reading this book. I want to be someone else pretty much all of the time.
Glittery unicorn stickers dot the forever I's. Hey, HER father is a famous poet, friends with a Duchess and second wife a young French chick. Ooh la la. Giant gold stars in the sky for the author's God-like approval. My wallflower disappears into the purple-y corners. Oh, I thought this shit was never going to end. I don't know if I could have hated stupid Penelope more. Yes, I could, when hapless thirteen year old Don has to become an effing priest to atone for some supposed crime committed against an idiot girl he barely knew. He had the misfortune to be born to stiff upper lip English parents. Sticks up each butt crack. Probably tennis rackets. They walk cliches and dance to the tune of no. The girlish day dreamer orbits the two English kids touring about the French countryside in mandatory uniforms of gray shorts and white shirts. Her satellite picks up beams of sitcoms I would never want to watch. Nothing like their reality, of course, but what the flip does she care. Blonde heads under the sun and her wet gaze swim around a lot and it feels more like work than a holiday. I am so bored. I thought France was supposed to be nicer than this. I should have wanted to be them too, or at least wanted to be her wanting to be them. If someone looked like they were happy and had all of the answers. Penelope's felt like the wish version of a girl who dates a guy she knows her parents will hate. It goes no deeper than that her dad calls them "The Smugs". But the girl never shuts up about how wonderful she is, how grown-up in comparison. The adults raise the bells over how she is more than these two kids will ever be because she is exposed to life, and they not. Shut up already. I fell asleep and the old Duchess isn't sleeping after all, or drunk. She's dead. I never want to see you again! Stamps foot in the most adult and ladylike way. Oh, how evil! They didn't know she was dead but they didn't stay up with me and keep vigil (sure I had dumped them for weeks before this, but yes, they should get grounded forever on my stupid account). Wah, wah, wah. Thank god, it's over. She's shutting up now. I will do whatever my father says because the blonde family didn't work out. No, I shouldn't have my own identity, or do anything for any other reason. It is totally the fault of two kids because some nibbled crush of good looking blondes didn't make me feel less guilty that I brushed off a dying family friend. There are only two options in this world, right? (I guess "personality" wasn't included in her oft boasted about vocabulary. Fourteen year olds are easily impressed. My classmates called me "the human dictionary" and I have the working vocabulary of a termite. It was awesome when one boy cheated off of me in maths because he saw me reading Dickens. The only time I felt good about being stupid. I would totally get wishing you were someone else. I might have envied Penelope with her good grades. I would have felt it keenly, imagined her coming home to enjoy her weekend because she had a good report card.)
Same voice. But... It's not her! It says right here it's Don. But... Penelope went on and on and on about how no one else spoke the way she did. It is probably my fault. I'm not amazing and too good for everything. Well, maybe it'll get better. How does Don feel about the straight jacket life with the folks? Real life is school, though their leash pulls if he stretches too far. A wealthy beetle in a wheel chair zooms in to pronounce from the mountaintops that he did the insufferable (oh wait, that's me) Penelope wrong! Atone! Atone! Guy dies and Don just misses all of their wooden heart knocking to heart knobs. Hello, wizard of Oz? I got two guys here who... Never mind, it is useless. Personality and anything I wanted to read not visited.
The chapter introduction says some stuff about "three voices" and that really means Penelope's stilted little girl diary style for all.
At the gate he said, "You'll be all right. You get there, without realizing it. It's walking and seeing a little bit of the view, not knowing that the road's mounting all the time, and that you're really climbing. And then you see a bit more of the view and then more."
Pamela Frankau must have thought that if you trot out characters to make speeches and insist stuff that's a story, or life experience out of the mouths of adults into the time of babes. I don't believe that Don and his sister did Penelope wrong when they didn't stay up with her. If this had been a real story wouldn't she have known that the guilt over the death of a super old woman (and a mega alcoholic to boot) was seeded in tossing her aside for the shiny new presence of the English family? If they represented to her a "normal" lifestyle to the "bohemian" family she thought she hated it was nothing to do with anything they did themselves. The other side of the snake belly that thoughtlessly slithers into the next realm is sadly the same skin. If this reflection says this it means that I am better than. Not what, just better. The dream of other people is holding under your tongue what they might say. You could feel it in your limbs as if theirs had once been a part of you. If everything I read made me feel that breathlessness of remembering what I forgot to remember of a life that was never mine. The dream of other people was what you could not live with of yourself so you break your soul and your heart into all of the mind mirror pieces and you give it and all of the throats try to swallow it but it gets stuck. What did Don feel about not being there except to wonder if he was a coward, a bad thing to be? If you can't go back why replace it with some dumb speech of should dos and bes. If Penelope wanted to wear another skin then hurt and tear it off. I could have passed like a ghost through the walls anything else and what would be different than this book. If not when you're reading (listening) then when? Religious minded platitudes end me and I don't enjoy writing about this book, really. I wish I had read something that made me feel different than this book did. I wish I was someone else and the dream will have to live on in another book.
July 18, 2018
This is lovely: a quite beautifully written book that speaks so profoundly. I find myself wanting to say so much, and at the same time being almost lost for words.
‘A Wreath for the Enemy’ is a coming of age story, the story of a girl and a boy, whose paths cross one summer on the French Riviera.
Penelope lived there, in the hotel that her father and her step-mother. It was the most bohemian of establishments, catering for artists, performers and eccentrics. Penelope’s life had no rules, she was free to do as she pleased, and she hated it. She longed for a conventional family, and she longed to be free of the chaos that surrounded her.
She watched the family staying at the villa set below the hotel – father, mother, son, daughter, baby – and she so wished that she could be one of them. She couldn’t, but she met the children, Don and Eva, and they became friends. Don and Eva were as taken with her world as she was with theirs.
Pamela Frankau captures that relationship, and the emotions of the young people, wonderfully well. Their fascination with a different world, and the tempering of that interest when faced with some of its realities. The resentment of their own reality that turns to defensiveness when it is criticised. All of those complex things.
Naturally both sets of parents are concerned and in the end a death – a quite natural death ends that friendship.
And that is the first of the three acts, told in Penelope’s voice.
Her voice rang true, and I understood exactly how she had become the girl she was: careful, naïve, and not nearly as sophisticated as the books he read and the stream of guests she met made her think she was.
The second act is Don’s. The events of the summer change him, and they make him question things that he had never thought to question before. He judges his parents, he finds them wanting, and his own interests draw him into the circle of an extraordinary man. He is an unconventional man, but he proves to be a wise counsellor.
Again Pamela Frankau captures his emotions, his growing pains quite perfectly.
He was lucky, he was gifted; but another death, another quite natural death shook him.
The third act is told in Penelope’s and in other voices. She and Don had friends in common, and the events that shook his life also touched hers. Penelope would learn lessons, would learn to see the world as an adult, before she and Don meet again.
They had both changed, but they recognised each other, and they both understood the events of the summer that changed their lives so much better.
The third act is not so easy to warm to as the first and second, because it moves between very different characters, but it is so profound. And it speaks so clearly about life, about death, about learning and growing, about penitence and forgiveness ….
Every voice rings trues, every character is beautifully realised, and every word is utterly right and utterly believable. ‘A Wreath for the Enemy’ is not a comfortable story, few of the characters are likeable, but it is – they are – fascinating.
The dialogue is pitch perfect, there’s just enough wit, and the themes and ideas that are threaded through the story work so well.
I really couldn’t have predicted the way the it played out, but it was so thought-provoking and so right.
The only thing that stops me from saying that this book is perfect is the structure. The shifting voices, the overlapping stories, worked wonderfully well, and I liked the more linear story of ‘The Willow Cabin’ a little more.
So ‘A Wreath for the Enemy’ is one small step away from perfection. One very small step. The quality of the writing, the depth of the story, the insight of the author, make this book something very special.
I’m so sorry that none of Pamela Frankau’s work is in print now, but I plan to track down and read as many of her books as I can.
‘A Wreath for the Enemy’ is a coming of age story, the story of a girl and a boy, whose paths cross one summer on the French Riviera.
Penelope lived there, in the hotel that her father and her step-mother. It was the most bohemian of establishments, catering for artists, performers and eccentrics. Penelope’s life had no rules, she was free to do as she pleased, and she hated it. She longed for a conventional family, and she longed to be free of the chaos that surrounded her.
She watched the family staying at the villa set below the hotel – father, mother, son, daughter, baby – and she so wished that she could be one of them. She couldn’t, but she met the children, Don and Eva, and they became friends. Don and Eva were as taken with her world as she was with theirs.
Pamela Frankau captures that relationship, and the emotions of the young people, wonderfully well. Their fascination with a different world, and the tempering of that interest when faced with some of its realities. The resentment of their own reality that turns to defensiveness when it is criticised. All of those complex things.
Naturally both sets of parents are concerned and in the end a death – a quite natural death ends that friendship.
And that is the first of the three acts, told in Penelope’s voice.
Her voice rang true, and I understood exactly how she had become the girl she was: careful, naïve, and not nearly as sophisticated as the books he read and the stream of guests she met made her think she was.
The second act is Don’s. The events of the summer change him, and they make him question things that he had never thought to question before. He judges his parents, he finds them wanting, and his own interests draw him into the circle of an extraordinary man. He is an unconventional man, but he proves to be a wise counsellor.
Again Pamela Frankau captures his emotions, his growing pains quite perfectly.
He was lucky, he was gifted; but another death, another quite natural death shook him.
The third act is told in Penelope’s and in other voices. She and Don had friends in common, and the events that shook his life also touched hers. Penelope would learn lessons, would learn to see the world as an adult, before she and Don meet again.
They had both changed, but they recognised each other, and they both understood the events of the summer that changed their lives so much better.
The third act is not so easy to warm to as the first and second, because it moves between very different characters, but it is so profound. And it speaks so clearly about life, about death, about learning and growing, about penitence and forgiveness ….
Every voice rings trues, every character is beautifully realised, and every word is utterly right and utterly believable. ‘A Wreath for the Enemy’ is not a comfortable story, few of the characters are likeable, but it is – they are – fascinating.
The dialogue is pitch perfect, there’s just enough wit, and the themes and ideas that are threaded through the story work so well.
I really couldn’t have predicted the way the it played out, but it was so thought-provoking and so right.
The only thing that stops me from saying that this book is perfect is the structure. The shifting voices, the overlapping stories, worked wonderfully well, and I liked the more linear story of ‘The Willow Cabin’ a little more.
So ‘A Wreath for the Enemy’ is one small step away from perfection. One very small step. The quality of the writing, the depth of the story, the insight of the author, make this book something very special.
I’m so sorry that none of Pamela Frankau’s work is in print now, but I plan to track down and read as many of her books as I can.
November 14, 2022
Rafaella Barker wrote the Introduction to this novel, and she said the book reminded her of “two other books which are about delightful, precocious adolescents, ‘I Capture the Castel’ by Dodie Smith and ‘The Constant Nymph’ by Margaret Kennedy”. I have read the former book and liked it...but have yet to read ‘The Constant Nymph”. I read “the Feast’ by Kennedy and loved it, loved it, loved it.
All this to say that Penelope in this book is a precocious adolescent. And I would agree with that characterization. I liked her quite a bit. Some clever and humorous writing and I was thinking this was 5-star territory. But then Penelope was dropped for a big chunk of the book... and although I knew she was coming back (because I looked in the Table of Contents) I was a bit impatient... So I was going to give this 3 stars, but I was swayed after reading the enthusiastic review and will give it 3.5 stars (which when rounded up in my rules of math is 4 stars... 🙃 😉).
The book had an interesting structure. It was told in the first-person narrative not just by one person but by four people. That allowed the reader, I guess, to get into the head of four different characters. I think it worked out OK but not necessarily brilliantly. Perhaps because each person when narrating was narrating at a different point in time than when the other people were narrating. So it’s not like we could see Penelope’s side of the story regarding a certain event as opposed to another character’s side of the story.
Also the way Penelope was brought back into the story line was not smooth – there was not a clear connection to me how Penelope had originally known another narrator in the book Mr. Livesey.
I look forward to reading another one of her books re-issued by Virago Modern Classics, The Willow Cabin. I took a sneak peek at the reviews from Goodreads reviewers, and I saw 4- and 5-star reviews.
She sadly died at the age of 48 from cancer. She was a prolific writer and had written 35 novels by the time of her death.
Synopsis of the book taken from the back of the Virago Modern Classic re-issue:
• When Penelope Wells, precocious daughter of a poet, meets the well-behaved middle-class Bradley children, it is love at first sight. But their parents are horrified by the Wells’ establishment — a distinctly bohemian hotel on the French Riviera — and the friendship ends in tears. Out of these childhood betrayals grow Penelope, in love with an elusive ideal of order and calm, and Don Bradley, in rebellion against the philistine values of his parents. Compellingly told in a series of first-person narratives, their stories involve them with the Duchess, painted and outré; the crippled genius Crusoe; Crusoe’s brother Livesey, and the eccentric Cara, whose brittle and chaotic life collides explosively with Penelope’s.
Reviews:
• https://heavenali.wordpress.com/2017/...
• https://mookseandgripes.com/reviews/2...
• https://www.stuckinabook.com/a-wreath...
• https://fleurinherworld.com/2014/09/0...
• https://amywelborn.wordpress.com/2021...
All this to say that Penelope in this book is a precocious adolescent. And I would agree with that characterization. I liked her quite a bit. Some clever and humorous writing and I was thinking this was 5-star territory. But then Penelope was dropped for a big chunk of the book... and although I knew she was coming back (because I looked in the Table of Contents) I was a bit impatient... So I was going to give this 3 stars, but I was swayed after reading the enthusiastic review and will give it 3.5 stars (which when rounded up in my rules of math is 4 stars... 🙃 😉).
The book had an interesting structure. It was told in the first-person narrative not just by one person but by four people. That allowed the reader, I guess, to get into the head of four different characters. I think it worked out OK but not necessarily brilliantly. Perhaps because each person when narrating was narrating at a different point in time than when the other people were narrating. So it’s not like we could see Penelope’s side of the story regarding a certain event as opposed to another character’s side of the story.
Also the way Penelope was brought back into the story line was not smooth – there was not a clear connection to me how Penelope had originally known another narrator in the book Mr. Livesey.
I look forward to reading another one of her books re-issued by Virago Modern Classics, The Willow Cabin. I took a sneak peek at the reviews from Goodreads reviewers, and I saw 4- and 5-star reviews.
She sadly died at the age of 48 from cancer. She was a prolific writer and had written 35 novels by the time of her death.
Synopsis of the book taken from the back of the Virago Modern Classic re-issue:
• When Penelope Wells, precocious daughter of a poet, meets the well-behaved middle-class Bradley children, it is love at first sight. But their parents are horrified by the Wells’ establishment — a distinctly bohemian hotel on the French Riviera — and the friendship ends in tears. Out of these childhood betrayals grow Penelope, in love with an elusive ideal of order and calm, and Don Bradley, in rebellion against the philistine values of his parents. Compellingly told in a series of first-person narratives, their stories involve them with the Duchess, painted and outré; the crippled genius Crusoe; Crusoe’s brother Livesey, and the eccentric Cara, whose brittle and chaotic life collides explosively with Penelope’s.
Reviews:
• https://heavenali.wordpress.com/2017/...
• https://mookseandgripes.com/reviews/2...
• https://www.stuckinabook.com/a-wreath...
• https://fleurinherworld.com/2014/09/0...
• https://amywelborn.wordpress.com/2021...
July 26, 2024
A Virago beach read! And one of my favourite book covers I've ever come across. It reminded me of Françoise Sagan's Bonjour Tristesse and Dorothy Baker's Cassandra at the Wedding. Penelope is comically uptight for such a young person- like Garbo in Ninotchka, but unlike Garbo, she never cracks. Penelope's dialogue is so unrealistic, but so entertaining, and her adolescent philosophies so perfectly bratty and awkward I laughed out loud several times-
To my mind it was only the ego that could ever be hurt; and this was what the ego needed. It was an obstacle on the way to maturity, a kind of hymen that must be hurt once in order that it should never be hurt again. Once wounded and having taken the wound, I said, you were grown-up. Grown ups did not go through life being 'hurt'. You could only be that if you preserved your virginity of ego, thus becoming tiresome.
"In my youth," I said, "I had an overwhelming passion to be like other people. Other People were a whole romantic race, miles beyond my reach. Not now. I don't really think that they exist, except in the eye of the beholder... Just as somebody has indicated that gangs do not exist, unless you create them out of your own sense of separation. Nobody has ever been conscious of belonging to a gang, only of not belonging. Proust, now, saw desirable gangs everywhere- to which he was not admitted."
Oh to be a teenage girl, making fun of Proust.
To my mind it was only the ego that could ever be hurt; and this was what the ego needed. It was an obstacle on the way to maturity, a kind of hymen that must be hurt once in order that it should never be hurt again. Once wounded and having taken the wound, I said, you were grown-up. Grown ups did not go through life being 'hurt'. You could only be that if you preserved your virginity of ego, thus becoming tiresome.
"In my youth," I said, "I had an overwhelming passion to be like other people. Other People were a whole romantic race, miles beyond my reach. Not now. I don't really think that they exist, except in the eye of the beholder... Just as somebody has indicated that gangs do not exist, unless you create them out of your own sense of separation. Nobody has ever been conscious of belonging to a gang, only of not belonging. Proust, now, saw desirable gangs everywhere- to which he was not admitted."
Oh to be a teenage girl, making fun of Proust.
April 12, 2017
It is a novel told in three sections, characters moving in and out of view – with some brilliantly plotted connections which make this a wonderfully clever novel. The opening is immediately captivating – Pamela Frankau knows how to get her readers hooked.
“There had been two crises already that day before the cook’s husband called to assassinate the cook. The stove caught fire in my presence; the postman had fallen off his bicycle at the gate and been bitten by Charlemagne, our sheepdog, whose policy it was to attack people only when they were down.
Whenever there were two crises my stepmother Jeanne said ‘Jamais deux sans trois.’ This morning she and Francis (my father) had debated whether the two things happening to the postman could be counted as two separate crises and might therefore be said to have cleared matters up. I thought that they were wasting their time. In our household things went on and on happening. It was an hotel, which made the doom worse: it would have been remarkable to have two days without a crisis and even if we did, I doubted whether the rule would apply in reverse, so that we could augur a third. I was very fond of the word augur.”
Our narrator is Penelope Wells, one of several voices that tell this story of non-conformity, friendship and family. As the novel opens Penelope is a precocious fourteen-year-old compiling an anthology of hates (this alone made me love her). She lives in a small hotel on the French Riviera with her poet, father and her stepmother. The hotel is often empty, Francis Wells having a somewhat relaxed attitude to business he is as likely to refuse entry to his establishment as he is to welcome visitors. The walls of the bar are adorned with the photographs of famous guests, and those guests who do arrive are generally eccentric, bohemian types.
Penelope; who calls her father and stepmother by their first name, – has this wonderfully unique way of speaking – her conversation is a delight. Quite obviously, a child who grew up surrounded by adults and her nose in a book – she speaks like the characters she has come up against in fiction. With her powers of imagination and observation, Penelope is ripe to be swept up in a childish infatuation for an English family staying next door to the hotel. The Bradleys are middle-class well behaved, conventional, their meal times run to a predictable timetable – their lives are ordered, unlike Penelope’s life at the hotel. It seems – from a distance to be an ideal life. Francis – much to Penelope’s irritation calls them The Smugs – it’s a pretty perfect name.#
full review: https://heavenali.wordpress.com/2017/...
“There had been two crises already that day before the cook’s husband called to assassinate the cook. The stove caught fire in my presence; the postman had fallen off his bicycle at the gate and been bitten by Charlemagne, our sheepdog, whose policy it was to attack people only when they were down.
Whenever there were two crises my stepmother Jeanne said ‘Jamais deux sans trois.’ This morning she and Francis (my father) had debated whether the two things happening to the postman could be counted as two separate crises and might therefore be said to have cleared matters up. I thought that they were wasting their time. In our household things went on and on happening. It was an hotel, which made the doom worse: it would have been remarkable to have two days without a crisis and even if we did, I doubted whether the rule would apply in reverse, so that we could augur a third. I was very fond of the word augur.”
Our narrator is Penelope Wells, one of several voices that tell this story of non-conformity, friendship and family. As the novel opens Penelope is a precocious fourteen-year-old compiling an anthology of hates (this alone made me love her). She lives in a small hotel on the French Riviera with her poet, father and her stepmother. The hotel is often empty, Francis Wells having a somewhat relaxed attitude to business he is as likely to refuse entry to his establishment as he is to welcome visitors. The walls of the bar are adorned with the photographs of famous guests, and those guests who do arrive are generally eccentric, bohemian types.
Penelope; who calls her father and stepmother by their first name, – has this wonderfully unique way of speaking – her conversation is a delight. Quite obviously, a child who grew up surrounded by adults and her nose in a book – she speaks like the characters she has come up against in fiction. With her powers of imagination and observation, Penelope is ripe to be swept up in a childish infatuation for an English family staying next door to the hotel. The Bradleys are middle-class well behaved, conventional, their meal times run to a predictable timetable – their lives are ordered, unlike Penelope’s life at the hotel. It seems – from a distance to be an ideal life. Francis – much to Penelope’s irritation calls them The Smugs – it’s a pretty perfect name.#
full review: https://heavenali.wordpress.com/2017/...
October 19, 2012
The plot framework for this novel is the coming-of-age story, ostensibly of two teenagers who meet on the Rivera after WWII. Penelope Wells is the daughter of a poet who owns a hotel and is being raised in a highly cultured and bohemian setting. She is, however, fascinated with the middle-class English Bradley family who have taken the villa across the way and longs to be 'ordinary'. The first section "The Duchess and the Smugs" is told from Penelope's point-of-view.
The second part is told from Don Bradley's point-of-view and is essentially the obverse view of the Bradley family and values, as Don is attempting to escape into a wider world of thought and is blocked at every step by his very conventional parents. Penelope and Don's worlds meet and collide several times throughout the novel (this is not a romance). The third section is told in "three voices", two minor characters and Penelope's again.
Using the coming-of-age framework, the characters are presented with a choice of morals, morality, habits of thought, and ways of life. One of the many themes is the idea of penitence: when you make a true mistake, how do you make it right? And can you?
I loved this book when I was a teenager (it was published in 1952, I must have read it in the 1960's) and unlike many former favorites it hasn't dated at all. As a funny aside, the horrible Bradley parents are a more adult version of the horrible Dursleys in the Harry Potter series. "Anything that isn't normal is a terror."
Highly, highly recommended.
The second part is told from Don Bradley's point-of-view and is essentially the obverse view of the Bradley family and values, as Don is attempting to escape into a wider world of thought and is blocked at every step by his very conventional parents. Penelope and Don's worlds meet and collide several times throughout the novel (this is not a romance). The third section is told in "three voices", two minor characters and Penelope's again.
Using the coming-of-age framework, the characters are presented with a choice of morals, morality, habits of thought, and ways of life. One of the many themes is the idea of penitence: when you make a true mistake, how do you make it right? And can you?
I loved this book when I was a teenager (it was published in 1952, I must have read it in the 1960's) and unlike many former favorites it hasn't dated at all. As a funny aside, the horrible Bradley parents are a more adult version of the horrible Dursleys in the Harry Potter series. "Anything that isn't normal is a terror."
Highly, highly recommended.
Read
January 9, 2024As coming-of-age novels go, this is among the finest of its kind. It's bittersweet and moving, hilarious for one moment, then heartbreaking the next. The young people start out foolish, as we all do, imbued with self-perceived superiority and certainty, which come from not knowing anything at all. Then, a life-altering blow. The resulting hurt is acute and indelible, and our brave heroes must make sense of their new world, reconfiguring their hearts and minds. There's a highly romantic quality, the story being set in the French Riviera and in boarding school England, and told through that fuzzy filter of remembrance. The pacing and plotting are a little weird, and I'm still trying to decide the value of a certain main character's section, but overall, immensely pleasurable and a happy start to the reading year.
May 13, 2020
Very odd. Not sure how to classify it, which is a good thing, it's refreshing to read something out of the norm, something that stands on its own. Written in different voices - it throws one off a bit, but I can't say it isn't successful, just that the flow stops and starts. One thing that stuck out to me clearly is that this is a novel about death, and more specifically, being present while someone is dying or near death or just missing someone's death or saving someone from dying. It sounds depressing, but is written in a lively and peculiar tone which is hopeful and wondering rather than sad.
May 20, 2015
This is lovely: a quite beautifully written book that speaks so profoundly. I find myself wanting to say so much, and at the same time being almost lost for words.
‘A Wreath for the Enemy’ is a coming of age story, the story of a girl and a boy, whose paths cross one summer on the French Riviera.
Penelope lived there, in the hotel that her father and her step-mother. It was the most bohemian of establishments, catering for artists, performers and eccentrics. Penelope’s life had no rules, she was free to do as she pleased, and she hated it. She longed for a conventional family, and she longed to be free of the chaos that surrounded he
She watched the family staying at the villa set below the hotel – father, mother, son, daughter, baby – and she so wished that she could be one of them. She couldn’t, but she met the children, Don and Eva, and they became friends. Don and Eva were as taken with her world as she was with theirs.
Pamela Frankau captures that relationship, and the emotions of the young people, wonderfully well. Their fascination with a different world, and the tempering of that interest when faced with some of its realities. The resentment of their own reality that turns to defensiveness when it is criticised. All of those complex things.
Naturally both sets of parents are concerned and in the end a death – a quite natural death ends that friendship.
And that is the first of the three acts, told in Penelope’s voice.
Her voice rang true, and I understood exactly how she had become the girl she was: careful, naïve, and not nearly as sophisticated as the books he read and the stream of guests she met made her think she was.
The second act is Don’s. The events of the summer change him, and they make him question things that he had never thought to question before. He judges his parents, he finds them wanting, and his own interests draw him into the circle of an extraordinary man. He is an unconventional man, but he proves to be a wise counsellor.
Again Pamela Frankau captures his emotions, his growing pains quite perfectly.
He was lucky, he was gifted; but another death, another quite natural death shook him.
The third act is told in Penelope’s and in other voices. She and Don had friends in common, and the events that shook his life also touched hers. Penelope would learn lessons, would learn to see the world as an adult, before she and Don meet again.
They had both changed, but they recognised each other, and they both understood the events of the summer that changed their lives so much better.
The third act is not so easy to warm to as the first and second, because it moves between very different characters, but it is so profound. And it speaks so clearly about life, about death, about learning and growing, about penitence and forgiveness ….
Every voice rings trues, every character is beautifully realised, and every word is utterly right and utterly believable. ‘A Wreath for the Enemy’ is not a comfortable story, few of the characters are likeable, but it is – they are – fascinating.
The dialogue is pitch perfect, there’s just enough wit, and the themes and ideas that are threaded through the story work so well.
I really couldn’t have predicted the way the it played out, but it was so thought-provoking and so right.
The only thing that stops me from saying that this book is perfect is the structure. The shifting voices, the overlapping stories, worked wonderfully well, and I liked the more linear story of ‘The Willow Cabin’ a little more.
So ‘A Wreath for the Enemy’ is one small step away from perfection. One very small step. The quality of the writing, the depth of the story, the insight of the author, make this book something very special.
I’m so sorry that none of Pamela Frankau’s work is in print now, but I plan to track down and read as many of her books as I can.
‘A Wreath for the Enemy’ is a coming of age story, the story of a girl and a boy, whose paths cross one summer on the French Riviera.
Penelope lived there, in the hotel that her father and her step-mother. It was the most bohemian of establishments, catering for artists, performers and eccentrics. Penelope’s life had no rules, she was free to do as she pleased, and she hated it. She longed for a conventional family, and she longed to be free of the chaos that surrounded he
She watched the family staying at the villa set below the hotel – father, mother, son, daughter, baby – and she so wished that she could be one of them. She couldn’t, but she met the children, Don and Eva, and they became friends. Don and Eva were as taken with her world as she was with theirs.
Pamela Frankau captures that relationship, and the emotions of the young people, wonderfully well. Their fascination with a different world, and the tempering of that interest when faced with some of its realities. The resentment of their own reality that turns to defensiveness when it is criticised. All of those complex things.
Naturally both sets of parents are concerned and in the end a death – a quite natural death ends that friendship.
And that is the first of the three acts, told in Penelope’s voice.
Her voice rang true, and I understood exactly how she had become the girl she was: careful, naïve, and not nearly as sophisticated as the books he read and the stream of guests she met made her think she was.
The second act is Don’s. The events of the summer change him, and they make him question things that he had never thought to question before. He judges his parents, he finds them wanting, and his own interests draw him into the circle of an extraordinary man. He is an unconventional man, but he proves to be a wise counsellor.
Again Pamela Frankau captures his emotions, his growing pains quite perfectly.
He was lucky, he was gifted; but another death, another quite natural death shook him.
The third act is told in Penelope’s and in other voices. She and Don had friends in common, and the events that shook his life also touched hers. Penelope would learn lessons, would learn to see the world as an adult, before she and Don meet again.
They had both changed, but they recognised each other, and they both understood the events of the summer that changed their lives so much better.
The third act is not so easy to warm to as the first and second, because it moves between very different characters, but it is so profound. And it speaks so clearly about life, about death, about learning and growing, about penitence and forgiveness ….
Every voice rings trues, every character is beautifully realised, and every word is utterly right and utterly believable. ‘A Wreath for the Enemy’ is not a comfortable story, few of the characters are likeable, but it is – they are – fascinating.
The dialogue is pitch perfect, there’s just enough wit, and the themes and ideas that are threaded through the story work so well.
I really couldn’t have predicted the way the it played out, but it was so thought-provoking and so right.
The only thing that stops me from saying that this book is perfect is the structure. The shifting voices, the overlapping stories, worked wonderfully well, and I liked the more linear story of ‘The Willow Cabin’ a little more.
So ‘A Wreath for the Enemy’ is one small step away from perfection. One very small step. The quality of the writing, the depth of the story, the insight of the author, make this book something very special.
I’m so sorry that none of Pamela Frankau’s work is in print now, but I plan to track down and read as many of her books as I can.
August 15, 2023
Surprising.
January 26, 2020
I read this book quite a long time ago, but it's a testament to how good it is that I remembered it now, and chose to include it on my book list.
What do I remember the most about it? Well, growing up is a hard thing, and no matter what kind of life you have, you always yearn for somebody's else. We just have to make sure we learn to appreciate the life we do have, and the people we are surrounded by, before it's too late.
What do I remember the most about it? Well, growing up is a hard thing, and no matter what kind of life you have, you always yearn for somebody's else. We just have to make sure we learn to appreciate the life we do have, and the people we are surrounded by, before it's too late.
October 1, 2011
It was a pleasure to read and different from the style of the books I've been reading recently. Very little description in this one and much more action and dialogue. I was fond of the main character Penelope Wells as well as her bohemian family. Many other interesting characters that will stay in my memory also inhabited the book. Look forward to reading more of Frankau's works.
June 3, 2020
A charming but overwritten and earnest account of learning life's lessons in the 50s, that is mostly set on the Riviera. While the setting was atmosspheric, I found the overall style a bit dated and stilted, with people constantly turning their dilemmas into philosophical conundrums, out of which they are saved by meeting extraordinary (meaning excentric and soon to be dead) people.
November 18, 2020
I really liked this coming of age story. At times it reminded me of both I Capture the Castle and Dusty Answer, both books that I love. Now that I think of it, there were elements of Brideshead Revisited, too.
March 6, 2025
“In my youth,” I said, “I had an overwhelming passion to be like other people. Other People were a whole romantic race, miles beyond my reach. Not now. I don’t really think that they exist, except in the eye of the beholder. . . . Just as somebody has indicated that gangs do not exist, unless you create them out of your own sense of separation. Nobody has ever been conscious of belonging to a gang; only of not belonging. Proust, now, saw desirable gangs everywhere—to which he was not admitted.”
The horror of being young, and not knowing better, not knowing yet, that the Smugs are the dullest lot imaginable (the children couldn't help it, poor things), and the very reasonable (and still relatable) loneliness of being the only person your age. I loved Penelope, her narrative voice and her dialogue voice alike (I do have a soft spot for precocious children), and reading this when I knew better made me even more sensitive to her pain. It also made for a very enjoyable first part, and perhaps for a certain slowness kicking in the second one. I did enjoy Don's voice, perhaps the change of scenery can account for it. The third part, despite the new voices, ran smoothly and joined the strands of the story very nicely. I rather enjoyed Cara's voice, much to my surprise since she got on my nerves in the same way she got on Penelope's, but it was so peculiar, so amusing and so varied (dream and flow of consciousness and always sounding like her) that I couldn't help getting what it was about her. I kept wanting to call it a less gloomy, less sensuous, more reflexive, polyphonic Bonjour tristesse, but in the end, I suppose there wasn't much beyond being a mid-century (published in the same year, as a matter of fact) Riviera bohemian coming-of-age. It did remind me of Franny and Zooey, though, Don's answer to Penelope's question about why we write, "for the glory of God", had a touch of "do it for the fat lady".
The horror of being young, and not knowing better, not knowing yet, that the Smugs are the dullest lot imaginable (the children couldn't help it, poor things), and the very reasonable (and still relatable) loneliness of being the only person your age. I loved Penelope, her narrative voice and her dialogue voice alike (I do have a soft spot for precocious children), and reading this when I knew better made me even more sensitive to her pain. It also made for a very enjoyable first part, and perhaps for a certain slowness kicking in the second one. I did enjoy Don's voice, perhaps the change of scenery can account for it. The third part, despite the new voices, ran smoothly and joined the strands of the story very nicely. I rather enjoyed Cara's voice, much to my surprise since she got on my nerves in the same way she got on Penelope's, but it was so peculiar, so amusing and so varied (dream and flow of consciousness and always sounding like her) that I couldn't help getting what it was about her. I kept wanting to call it a less gloomy, less sensuous, more reflexive, polyphonic Bonjour tristesse, but in the end, I suppose there wasn't much beyond being a mid-century (published in the same year, as a matter of fact) Riviera bohemian coming-of-age. It did remind me of Franny and Zooey, though, Don's answer to Penelope's question about why we write, "for the glory of God", had a touch of "do it for the fat lady".
December 30, 2025
The first two parts were my favourite. I didn’t love the love story crammed in at the end, with Penelope suddenly rendered a feeble Jane Eyre-ish character for a portion of the story - although she comes back from that, and in style. There’s a certain moralizing or religious or didactic undertone to Don and Penelope’s journeys which is reminiscent for me of Little Women, and I have a feeling it’s partly to do with the time that this was written.
I think I will probably read and reread this book. Don’s narrative, and his relationship with Crusoe, especially resonated with me: what it feels like to be an adolescent and to be seen by an adult outside of your family. It reminded me of someone who was special to me for some of the reasons that Crusoe was special to Don.
I don’t think this book will be to everyone’s taste, but it certainly was to mine.
I think I will probably read and reread this book. Don’s narrative, and his relationship with Crusoe, especially resonated with me: what it feels like to be an adolescent and to be seen by an adult outside of your family. It reminded me of someone who was special to me for some of the reasons that Crusoe was special to Don.
I don’t think this book will be to everyone’s taste, but it certainly was to mine.
July 17, 2025
3.5
A touching coming-of-age novel about love, shame and belonging.
A touching coming-of-age novel about love, shame and belonging.
September 20, 2023
super interesting i thought! i’d have liked more of penelope’s POV bc she’s the most interesting, and more of cara. found the ending a bit gimmicky but since it came out in 1954 maybe it wasn’t at the time? so haven’t marked it down for that. v well written etc
January 17, 2022
I enjoyed the first part of this story, set in a hotel on the Cote d’Azure and narrated by the hotel owner’s daughter, Penelope. Penelope dislikes the bohemian lifestyle of her father and stepmother, and the eccentric way they run the hotel. She yearns for a more normal life. She is attracted by the conventional English family who come to stay at the villa next door, and makes friend with the children, Don and Eva, who are as fascinated by her as she is by them, But of course problems arise. Then suddenly we are in England a few years later and the narrator is Don and it is all about horses and God and repentance. And then we jump ahead another year or so and we are back to Penelope again. I quite enjoyed this book, the characters are interesting, but I must admit the first part was the most enjoyable, and I would have liked it to go on for longer, I wanted to spend more time with the eccentric inhabitants of the hotel.
June 25, 2024
I thought I would be into this, but it just tries so damn hard all the time. There is such a thing as there being to many one-liners. Shout out to Pamela Frankau, you would've loved Twitter.
I can just feel Frankau writing away, feeling awfully cleaver at least once a page.
There are some scenes that are wonderfully well-written (many of the biggest turning points, a detached way of writing about death, omg THE CALF), but they are few and far between, and Frankau fumbles when tying them together.
But three out of five in my bookclub really loved it, so it seems like this is one of those books where you need to gel with the author's style.
If you want something similar try...
"I Capture the Castle" and "Bonjour Tristesse" (both better in my opinion.)
...
Also wtf is that authors page that's only about the men in her life?!
I can just feel Frankau writing away, feeling awfully cleaver at least once a page.
There are some scenes that are wonderfully well-written (many of the biggest turning points, a detached way of writing about death, omg THE CALF), but they are few and far between, and Frankau fumbles when tying them together.
But three out of five in my bookclub really loved it, so it seems like this is one of those books where you need to gel with the author's style.
If you want something similar try...
"I Capture the Castle" and "Bonjour Tristesse" (both better in my opinion.)
...
Also wtf is that authors page that's only about the men in her life?!
May 16, 2019
A wonderful book (thankfully reissued by Virago Press) that was always a favorite of my high school English teacher. It's full of wonderful lines like this:
"It was another proof that my love, like my hates, must remain secret, and that is loneliness."
"Only two attitudes about one's family -- have you noticed? One can feel that they're sacred, that it's a privilege for the outsider to be admitted to their hallowed circle…Alternatively, one sees them as one's private burden of mediocrity; to be kept in the background; for whose appearance in the foreground no apologies are enough."
Beautifully written -- a lovely book about what it means to grow up and to forgive.
"It was another proof that my love, like my hates, must remain secret, and that is loneliness."
"Only two attitudes about one's family -- have you noticed? One can feel that they're sacred, that it's a privilege for the outsider to be admitted to their hallowed circle…Alternatively, one sees them as one's private burden of mediocrity; to be kept in the background; for whose appearance in the foreground no apologies are enough."
Beautifully written -- a lovely book about what it means to grow up and to forgive.
May 23, 2020
Wonderfully written; it follows a set of english characters formative in the protagonist's Penelope's growth. Set initially in a hotel on the French Riviera, it transitions to lengthy sequences where each character is developed - or better, grows as an individual - separately. From Don and Eve's (the Smugs) first interactions with Penelope, it leaps across a number of years to spend time with Don as he encounters his soon to be friend Caruso. It steps across time in this manner among the characters as the narrative unfolds. The writing itself is technically wonderful and the book is a marvelous cycle - it ends where it began.
October 3, 2021
I like books that make me think, though I don't always *love* them. This coming-of-age and wisdom novel had several moments of insight that I found myself looking for to reread, once I'd finished the book. Here is one: "But why (--scuffing up the red sand with the toes of my shoes as I did when I was a child--) should I think that she wanted to hurt me? Was I--God help me--turning into one of the "Sensitive" people? Like Marius? I who had said proudly that the ego must be hurt once, so it would never hurt again? Once wounded, having taken the wound, I said, you grew up."
April 1, 2020
I absolutely loved this story and the writing. The first two stories were great and moved quickly but that last one - whew! I hardly got through it hence the 4 star as opposed to 5. The last story is too long and could easily have been condensed. It was refreshing to read something challenging and though provoking.
February 7, 2022
An unusual, moving read. Told from the perspective of the different characters who are linked in ways you are unaware of, over a period of years from childhood to maturity. Such an intelligent writer.
February 18, 2014
Re-read this after many years - a strange deja vu.
August 30, 2020
I have vague memories of this long-ago-read book. I really enjoyed it.
An unusual novel.
An unusual novel.
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