Aaron Franks, tortured but brilliant British writer, struggles with his Jewish identity and his relationship with his bitter and bullying older sister Polly. Enter our heroine, Martha, a prim and proper English rose taken on as his secretary, who feels intimidated by the Franks' wealth and theatrical friends. As Aaron writes a ridiculously modern play to keep his controlling sister off his back, his relationship with Martha changes, and in secret they begin to work on a novel which reflects his true artistry. As their love grows, so does Aaron's disgust with himself for his weakness towards his sister, expressed in violent rages. Then his sister persuades one of her theatrical friends to stage the play, and this will change their lives for ever. It leads to their escape to a different world, to a kibbutz in Israel, where Aaron expects to find himself more accepted.
The first half of the book is told from the point of view of Martha, in the clipped upper middle class educated tones of the 1950s and early 1960s; presumably this is the voice of Lynne Reid Banks herself, as it does not change for the second half of the novel, where Aaron takes over the second half of the tale as the couple flees from the restrictions of their life in London. The style reminds me of a Victoria Woods sketch which I saw recently in which she plays a parody of Laura in 'Brief Encounter'. The book is very much a period piece, at the very beginning of the 1960s, with all the restrictions and hang-ups prevalent at the time. In spite of the reputation of this as the decade of free love, the sexual revolution had yet to take place, and London had not yet become the place to be. This novel is still set in the moral climate of post-war Britain, where pre-marital sex was unacceptable, and younger readers may not realise that for the majority of people this was still the case until the 1980s and beyond; moral values go through cycles of relaxation and tightening. Ironically, in the second half of the novel, the couple's expectations of free love and acceptance of an unmarried couple at the kibbutz are also found to be unrealistic: the time of free love has passed as the morality swings back once again.
Now fifty years old, the book highlights how some things have changed in the intervening time. Not only attitudes to unmarried couples have relaxed, but the expectations of women and the way they are viewed has too. It is quite shocking to current sensibilities when Aaron says that Martha "looked twenty times more feminine, more attractive and pleasing to the eye than any of the others. She looked as if she cared for her appearance, and had the leisure and means to make the most of it. She looked as a woman should look." Men with such attitudes were going to be in for a shock in the ensuing decades! It was also interesting to read a little about life in the kibbutzes; theoretically it was idyllic, but Aaron tells how hard it was, especially if you were well-educated and used to a life of ease. Ironically, in spite of fitting in as far as the hard daytime labour was concerned, he distanced himself from the high-brow intellectual life which flourished in the evenings when the kibbutzim socialised. Aaron keeps on running until he is forced to reconsider his status as an outsider, wherever he goes. It is not until the climax of the novel that there is any hope of his redemption.
There are also interesting comments on the life of immigrants. Reflecting on the fact that Jews have been rejected, ostracised and persecuted in many countries over the centuries, he wonders why this is. One of his theories is that they remain aloof and separate, a convenient scapegoat and an identifiable group, simply because they have no place to put down roots and call their homeland, and this should theoretically have been solved by the creation of Israel. Acceptance is important:
It was one thing not to be wanted in the place you were born in. That might not be enough to make you get out - it might only make you more stubbornly determined to dig in. But if there was a place that did want you - wanted you so badly it didn't even ask whether you had tuberculosis or a criminal record, let alone whether you were popular in the place you came from or whether you liked yourself or whether you had the guts to stand on your own two feet - then what sort of a bloody fool would you have to be not to go there?
It turns out that acceptance at a social level is not enough. As Aaron discovers, if you cannot accept yourself, there is no end to running.