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The Matriarch
" 'You'll be the bully of the family, and yet they'll come to you, as head of the family, for advice and help . . . And you'll glory in it . . . You're the Matriarch. There'll always be a Matriarch, in this family' "
First published in 1924, this lively and perceptive novel traces the history of the Rakonitz family--rich, cosmopolitan and Jewish--and the indomitable women within it. In the 1800s Babette marries Simon Rakonitz, moves with him from Pressburg to Vienna to Paris and becomes the mother of ten children. On her death her granddaughter Anastasia, "brilliant, tireless, despotic", settles in West Kensington and takes up the reins of power as the family wealth accumulates through dealings in precious stones. Her own grandchildren are as fearless and debonair as any before them and, when times change and family networks threaten to fracture, they must reassess the legacy which both supports and binds them. As Anastasia's power diminishes, it is her granddaughter Toni, nourished by tales of her ancestors, who emerges as the natural Matriarch of a younger generation.
Gladys Bronwyn Stern (1890-1973) was born in London but also lived in Europe and America. A playwright, novelist and short story writer, she is best known for her "Rakonitz Chronicles" of which The Matriarch is the first.
First published in 1924, this lively and perceptive novel traces the history of the Rakonitz family--rich, cosmopolitan and Jewish--and the indomitable women within it. In the 1800s Babette marries Simon Rakonitz, moves with him from Pressburg to Vienna to Paris and becomes the mother of ten children. On her death her granddaughter Anastasia, "brilliant, tireless, despotic", settles in West Kensington and takes up the reins of power as the family wealth accumulates through dealings in precious stones. Her own grandchildren are as fearless and debonair as any before them and, when times change and family networks threaten to fracture, they must reassess the legacy which both supports and binds them. As Anastasia's power diminishes, it is her granddaughter Toni, nourished by tales of her ancestors, who emerges as the natural Matriarch of a younger generation.
Gladys Bronwyn Stern (1890-1973) was born in London but also lived in Europe and America. A playwright, novelist and short story writer, she is best known for her "Rakonitz Chronicles" of which The Matriarch is the first.
298 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1924
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200 people want to read
About the author
G.B. Stern
92 books8 followersGladys Bronwyn Stern or GB Stern (17 June 1890 – 20 September 1973) born Gladys Bertha Stern in London, England, wrote many novels, short stories, plays, memoirs, biographies and literary criticism.
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Displaying 1 - 18 of 18 reviews
October 31, 2015
A few years ago I picked up a small small book in a second-hand bookshop. It was plain, simple and unadorned, but I picked it up because I had spotted the name of a Virago author. G B Stern, and because its title made me curious. I hadn’t read any of her books before, though I had the two that were reissued as Virago Modern Classics on my shelves, but I decided it was worth taking home.
I loved that book. I fell in love with her fiction, written with such intelligence and wit, and I have to tell you that her multiple memoirs – where she writes of anything and everything that has captured her interest – are sublime.
I can understand why she’s still relatively obscure; because she wrote a great many books, because they are wildly diverse, because, and because – I am given to understand – some of the are not as strong as the others. I have to say though, that I have yet to pick up one of her books and not be smitten.
I heard great things about ‘The Matriarch’, I read that it was inspired by the author’s own family history, I saw that she returned to the same family in a number of later books, and so when The 1924 Club arrived I took it as a sign that it was time for me to meet The Matriarch and her family.
The story opens early in the 19th century, and sweeps forward and across Europe, as the fabulously wealthy Rakonitz family prospers and grows. The women of the family reign over houses and homes, where sons bring wives home to live with their mothers, grandchildren belong as much to the whole family as to their parents, and that there are other ways to live is not even contemplated. Meanwhile, the men go out to do business, and are free to indulge what ever interests they may have.
The stream of names, of relationships, of conversations, of family occasions could have been overwhelming; but there was such warmth, such vibrancy that I was completely captivated. I might not have been able to tell you who was who, or what was significant, but I saw the whole picture and it was glorious.
It was at the start of the 20th century, when Anastasia Rakonitz, married to her first cousin Paul, stood at the head of her family, that the story proper began. She adored her family; she was generous, she was demonstrative, she was practical, and there was nothing that she would not do for each and every one of them.
But there was no way but her way; and she would not even contemplate that the family would not always live together and do things as it always had.
Her word was law. Her family had everything they could ever want; except the freedom to set their own courses in life.
Some of her family were oblivious; some of them were comfortable; but for some of them life was difficult.
Imagine the position of a daughter who could not snare a suitable husband, and who when she did could not present her mother with a grandchild. Imagine the position of the bride of a son who had ‘married out’, who would not have the home of her own that she had anticipated, who would be trapped in a house ruled over by another woman who did things so very differently to the woman who raised hers.
There were cracks, but it was a string of bad investments that swallowed the family fortune and destroyed a way of life. The big houses and the family treasures had to be sold, and simpler accommodation had to be found, and simpler ways of living established.
Anastasia’s health was beginning, she couldn’t entirely comprehend what her family’s crash would mean; but she fought to hold her family together, and to live by the principles that had served her and her forbearers so well or so very long.
But her menfolk abandoned her; one took his own life, one fled overseas, one succumbed to ill health ….
That meant that her grandchildren, no longer wealthy, no longer able to rely on family connections, had to establish themselves in a changing world. Through their efforts, the family stayed afloat. They took on more and more responsibility, but they were still treated as the children of the family.
Toni, the eldest child of Anastasia’s eldest child, worked hard to establish herself as a businesswoman, and she found success and she felt pride is what she was able to achieve. But she still loved her family, she wanted to restore pride in her family, she wanted to clear the debts that ‘The Uncles’ had left behind.
On one hand she was a modern woman; on the other she was the woman that Anastasia had raised and moulded.
Could she reconcile the two?
A wealth of stories, relationships, events and incidents, is wrapped around this central story. Some are in the foreground, some are in the background, and it feels a little messy sometimes, but it feels like life. And because the story was so well told, the details so well told, the descriptions so very vivid, I was pulled right into the homes and the lives of this colourful, exotic, suffocating family.
I loved some of them, I was infuriated by others; but I believed in them all.
I would have liked to learn a little more about some of the family, about some parts of the family, but there is only so much that can be fitted into a single book.
The story starts slowly, but it gather pace and by the end it is utterly compelling.
That G B Stern could paint such a vibrant picture of a family, on such a grand scale, with so many intriguing details to pick out, is wonderful.
It works as a study of the ties that bind families together, of the way those ties can pull you back, and of why we sometimes need to loosen or escape those ties.
It works as a study of the power of women; it was women who ran the home and family, and it was women who had to take charge when the family found itself in crisis, and find new ways of living for themselves, for their parents, for their children.
And it works as family saga; full of wit, colour, and intelligence.
I have two of the sequels – and I need to track down two more.
I loved that book. I fell in love with her fiction, written with such intelligence and wit, and I have to tell you that her multiple memoirs – where she writes of anything and everything that has captured her interest – are sublime.
I can understand why she’s still relatively obscure; because she wrote a great many books, because they are wildly diverse, because, and because – I am given to understand – some of the are not as strong as the others. I have to say though, that I have yet to pick up one of her books and not be smitten.
I heard great things about ‘The Matriarch’, I read that it was inspired by the author’s own family history, I saw that she returned to the same family in a number of later books, and so when The 1924 Club arrived I took it as a sign that it was time for me to meet The Matriarch and her family.
The story opens early in the 19th century, and sweeps forward and across Europe, as the fabulously wealthy Rakonitz family prospers and grows. The women of the family reign over houses and homes, where sons bring wives home to live with their mothers, grandchildren belong as much to the whole family as to their parents, and that there are other ways to live is not even contemplated. Meanwhile, the men go out to do business, and are free to indulge what ever interests they may have.
The stream of names, of relationships, of conversations, of family occasions could have been overwhelming; but there was such warmth, such vibrancy that I was completely captivated. I might not have been able to tell you who was who, or what was significant, but I saw the whole picture and it was glorious.
It was at the start of the 20th century, when Anastasia Rakonitz, married to her first cousin Paul, stood at the head of her family, that the story proper began. She adored her family; she was generous, she was demonstrative, she was practical, and there was nothing that she would not do for each and every one of them.
But there was no way but her way; and she would not even contemplate that the family would not always live together and do things as it always had.
Her word was law. Her family had everything they could ever want; except the freedom to set their own courses in life.
Some of her family were oblivious; some of them were comfortable; but for some of them life was difficult.
Imagine the position of a daughter who could not snare a suitable husband, and who when she did could not present her mother with a grandchild. Imagine the position of the bride of a son who had ‘married out’, who would not have the home of her own that she had anticipated, who would be trapped in a house ruled over by another woman who did things so very differently to the woman who raised hers.
There were cracks, but it was a string of bad investments that swallowed the family fortune and destroyed a way of life. The big houses and the family treasures had to be sold, and simpler accommodation had to be found, and simpler ways of living established.
Anastasia’s health was beginning, she couldn’t entirely comprehend what her family’s crash would mean; but she fought to hold her family together, and to live by the principles that had served her and her forbearers so well or so very long.
But her menfolk abandoned her; one took his own life, one fled overseas, one succumbed to ill health ….
That meant that her grandchildren, no longer wealthy, no longer able to rely on family connections, had to establish themselves in a changing world. Through their efforts, the family stayed afloat. They took on more and more responsibility, but they were still treated as the children of the family.
Toni, the eldest child of Anastasia’s eldest child, worked hard to establish herself as a businesswoman, and she found success and she felt pride is what she was able to achieve. But she still loved her family, she wanted to restore pride in her family, she wanted to clear the debts that ‘The Uncles’ had left behind.
On one hand she was a modern woman; on the other she was the woman that Anastasia had raised and moulded.
Could she reconcile the two?
A wealth of stories, relationships, events and incidents, is wrapped around this central story. Some are in the foreground, some are in the background, and it feels a little messy sometimes, but it feels like life. And because the story was so well told, the details so well told, the descriptions so very vivid, I was pulled right into the homes and the lives of this colourful, exotic, suffocating family.
I loved some of them, I was infuriated by others; but I believed in them all.
I would have liked to learn a little more about some of the family, about some parts of the family, but there is only so much that can be fitted into a single book.
The story starts slowly, but it gather pace and by the end it is utterly compelling.
That G B Stern could paint such a vibrant picture of a family, on such a grand scale, with so many intriguing details to pick out, is wonderful.
It works as a study of the ties that bind families together, of the way those ties can pull you back, and of why we sometimes need to loosen or escape those ties.
It works as a study of the power of women; it was women who ran the home and family, and it was women who had to take charge when the family found itself in crisis, and find new ways of living for themselves, for their parents, for their children.
And it works as family saga; full of wit, colour, and intelligence.
I have two of the sequels – and I need to track down two more.
Read
June 23, 2017Highly recommended. If you're into this sort of thing.
August 22, 2013
This is by far one of my favourite books this year. The style of writing makes it a bit difficult, though pleasurable, to read. I loved the subject - a big cosmopolitan Jewish family, their trials and stories - so if it isn't your cup of tea, you might not enjoy it as much. The central theme of the novel turned out to be family allegiance v. personal freedom. Stern gives so much family background, and inputs so many characters, that it can be overwhelming and confusing - but that is the point. You either fall in love with this family and understand (and envy perhaps) the bond that unites them and that makes Toni sacrifice herself for them, or you don't.
December 8, 2021
…In a typical chronicle of the Israelites, it would be taken for granted that the girls did not count at all…if they give birth to a boy who will grow into a man, they have fulfilled their destiny in the only possible way. When you have heard more about the adventure of being a Rakonitz, you will recognize why I have called them the very topsy-turvydom of Jews. It was a family of women bucaneers [sic]. They were thrown forward, and the men receded a very little bit into dependence.
GB (Gladys Bronwyn) Stern is a “lost lady” of literature: well-known in her time, but little heard of today. She was born in London in 1890 and at the age of 16 traveled with her parents to the continent and studied in Germany and Switzerland. She was a novelist, memoirist, playwright and short story writer; several of her novels were turned into movies. The Matriarch is the first book in the Rakonitz Chronicles, a semi-autobiographical account of the Rakonitz, Bettleheim and Czelovar families, who are well-to-do cosmopolitan Jews with various family members having settled in England, Hungary, Poland, Russia, and Austria.
To say this is a sweeping generational saga of three families gives an idea of the breadth of characters. In fact, there are so many a detailed family tree is provided in the back of the book. However daunting a read this seemed at the beginning-the narrative is constructed in such a way that the generations and their stories are told together rather than in a linear pattern of one generation building upon the last-it works very well. The narrative has the feel of conversations at big family gatherings where the oldest person tells anecdotes about old uncle Saul with the smelly pipe who knew all the important people and who was important himself or beautiful cousin Elizabeth who refused an arranged marriage scandalizing the family when she married for love or the great-granddaughter Toni who decided to work for a living to support her family when her father died.
The action moves from Vienna to Paris to London to Italy, Russia and to Central and South America, beginning with Simon and Babette Rakonitz who marry in the early 19th century. The wealthy, upper class Rakonitz family are very assimilated, but retain elements of their religion. The story takes in the larger cultures and societies in which they live that make the novel so interesting. They are a well-accepted noteworthy family having made their money in the diamond and other precious gems trade. The women hold the family together, especially after the financial tragedy that robs each household of their husbands, uncles and fathers.
Against the backdrop of tradition that each family member is expected to accept, the younger generations fight for their personal independence against loyalty to the family name. And some try to balance both, making life difficult when cracks appear in the family armor that call for intervention. This is not a somber or dark tale of prejudice or oppression, but a story of a dynamic family that is engaged in living life to the fullest and that through the generations is fully invested in the world around them.
GB (Gladys Bronwyn) Stern is a “lost lady” of literature: well-known in her time, but little heard of today. She was born in London in 1890 and at the age of 16 traveled with her parents to the continent and studied in Germany and Switzerland. She was a novelist, memoirist, playwright and short story writer; several of her novels were turned into movies. The Matriarch is the first book in the Rakonitz Chronicles, a semi-autobiographical account of the Rakonitz, Bettleheim and Czelovar families, who are well-to-do cosmopolitan Jews with various family members having settled in England, Hungary, Poland, Russia, and Austria.
To say this is a sweeping generational saga of three families gives an idea of the breadth of characters. In fact, there are so many a detailed family tree is provided in the back of the book. However daunting a read this seemed at the beginning-the narrative is constructed in such a way that the generations and their stories are told together rather than in a linear pattern of one generation building upon the last-it works very well. The narrative has the feel of conversations at big family gatherings where the oldest person tells anecdotes about old uncle Saul with the smelly pipe who knew all the important people and who was important himself or beautiful cousin Elizabeth who refused an arranged marriage scandalizing the family when she married for love or the great-granddaughter Toni who decided to work for a living to support her family when her father died.
The action moves from Vienna to Paris to London to Italy, Russia and to Central and South America, beginning with Simon and Babette Rakonitz who marry in the early 19th century. The wealthy, upper class Rakonitz family are very assimilated, but retain elements of their religion. The story takes in the larger cultures and societies in which they live that make the novel so interesting. They are a well-accepted noteworthy family having made their money in the diamond and other precious gems trade. The women hold the family together, especially after the financial tragedy that robs each household of their husbands, uncles and fathers.
Against the backdrop of tradition that each family member is expected to accept, the younger generations fight for their personal independence against loyalty to the family name. And some try to balance both, making life difficult when cracks appear in the family armor that call for intervention. This is not a somber or dark tale of prejudice or oppression, but a story of a dynamic family that is engaged in living life to the fullest and that through the generations is fully invested in the world around them.
September 29, 2020
I really enjoyed this novel.
It's about a wealthy, cosmopolitan Jewish family in the late 19th and early 20th century, and it is full of house porn and clothes porn and food porn. It's a sumptuous book, full of luxury.
Mostly, though, it's about family and what it's like to be a part of this glorious, suffocating, strong, powerful, maddening dynasty.
The book employs a variety of stereotypes about Jewish people which I always struggle to know how interpret when the stereotypes are coming from inside the house (the author is Jewish).
It is a deeply feminist book (although I'm not sure the author would have described her project in that way); the most important characters are female.
Insofar as there is a plot (this is a delightfully plotless book for the most part), it is a romance plot, and I really like the unexpected way it plays out.
It's about a wealthy, cosmopolitan Jewish family in the late 19th and early 20th century, and it is full of house porn and clothes porn and food porn. It's a sumptuous book, full of luxury.
Mostly, though, it's about family and what it's like to be a part of this glorious, suffocating, strong, powerful, maddening dynasty.
The book employs a variety of stereotypes about Jewish people which I always struggle to know how interpret when the stereotypes are coming from inside the house (the author is Jewish).
It is a deeply feminist book (although I'm not sure the author would have described her project in that way); the most important characters are female.
Insofar as there is a plot (this is a delightfully plotless book for the most part), it is a romance plot, and I really like the unexpected way it plays out.
November 19, 2023
Una confusionaria ridda di personaggi e un finale agrodolce, ma positivamente spiazzante
Ah, la gloriosa epoca dei giveaway! Sono trascorsi ben nove anni da quando ho vinto una copia del romanzo più famoso di G.B. Stern, gentilmente offerto dalla casa editrice Sonzogno che lo ha proposto per la prima volta in Italia. Era il 2014 ed io l’ho messo in valigia nel 2023. Sarò sincera: a casa non trovavo mai il tempo per leggerlo.
Non sapevo nemmeno chi fosse G.B. Stern, dal nome credevo si trattasse di un uomo. Come? Sono solo iniziali puntate? Lo so, ma in casi del genere io immagino sempre di default un individuo di sesso maschile. Perché mai non presentarsi con il proprio nome completo? L’ambiguo G.B. Stern nasconde Gladys Bronwyn Stern (1890-1973) nata in realtà Gladys Bertha Stern.
Pare che G.B. Stern fosse un’autrice ben nota nella Londra degli anni Venti e Trenta del Ventesimo secolo, ma a quarant’anni dalla sua morte non si trovava più nessuna delle sue opere in commercio.
Quando nella presentazione ho letto che La Matriarca era stato paragonato ai Buddenbrook di Thomas Mann, diciamo che gli auspici per me non erano dei migliori, visto che una ventina di anni orsono li dovetti studiare all’università per un esame di letteratura tedesca e li trovai noiosi al punto da rammentare ormai solo quell’impressione e nulla della trama.
La prefazione dell’autrice non ha fatto altro che accrescere i miei timori, annunciando una famiglia numerosa con un’esorbitante quantità di zie, cugini e prozii. Ho cercato di essere ottimista confidando nel tono scanzonato e allegro promesso dalla presentazione e nelle rassicurazioni di G.B. Stern secondo la quale sarebbe stato possibile comprendere la storia anche non riuscendo a seguire le descrizioni dei personaggi nel primo capitolo, ma il risultato è stato Bittersweet, agrodolce, come il nome della collana in cui la casa editrice Sonzogno ha inserito il libro.
Mi affascinano gli alberi genealogici, ma questo non è il mio e benché a G.B. Stern sarà risultato probabilmente semplice ispirarsi alla storia della sua famiglia di ebrei cosmopoliti e non praticanti in quanto vicende a lei già note, il risultato espositivo non è all’altezza delle mie aspettative. La confusionaria ridda di personaggi straborda ben oltre il primo capitolo, rendendo difficile memorizzare gran parte dei nomi, dei legami di parentela e delle vicissitudini dei singoli individui.
Riassumendo, la storia si dipana tra il 1805 e la fine degli anni Venti del Ventesimo secolo. Forse perché scritto da una donna, in questo romanzo viene dato grande risalto alle figure femminili, a partire dalla capostipite Babette Weinberg che viveva a Bratislava. Babette sposa il commerciante Simon Rakonitz e Rakonitz diventerà il cognome del clan. Babette si trasferirà prima a Vienna e in seguito a Parigi.
Babette è la nonna della matriarca Anastasia che andrà a vivere a Londra per sfuggire all’assedio di Parigi del 1870. Anastasia è una donna dispotica che vizia i figli maschi e maltratta o ignora le figlie femmine. Rimasta vedova, si fa mantenere dai fratelli, dediti al redditizio commercio di pietre preziose. Spende e spande come se non ci fosse un domani. Viene definita generosa perché è sempre pronta ad aiutare il prossimo. Ma può definirsi tale una generosità che attinge al denaro altrui?
Come se non bastasse, la Matriarca è invadente e vorrebbe pianificare i matrimoni di tutti i familiari, obbligandoli poi a vivere con lei nella sua enorme casa. La cosa peggiore è che quasi sempre riesce ad attuare i suoi perversi piani, grazie alla sudditanza psicologica che esercita nei confronti dei parenti.
Lei però ha fatto sempre di testa sua e ha sposato un cugino. A dire il vero il clan Rakonitz è spesso ricorso ai matrimoni tra consanguinei e il risultato è un eterno ripresentarsi dei cognomi Czelovar, Bettelheim e Rakonitz. Fortunatamente c’è anche chi ha guardato oltre, scegliendosi un partner al di fuori della cerchia familiare, come il padre di Toni Rakonitz, nipote di Anastasia e futura nuova Matriarca. La povera Susie Lake è stata però costretta a vivere per anni nella casa di sua suocera, vittima di un marito succube della propria madre che non voleva lasciarlo andare via.
Nel 1910 l’opulenta famiglia Rakonitz cade in disgrazia a causa di un investimento sbagliato nelle miniere birmane e varie donne della nuova generazione iniziano a lavorare. Tra le protagoniste di questa gradita ventata di modernità c’è la giovane Toni che in breve tempo diventa un’affermata agente di commercio nel settore moda per poi riuscire a coronare il suo sogno di diventare una stilista e aprire il proprio atelier.
Contrariamente a molti romanzi che catturano immediatamente l’attenzione del lettore per poi perdersi strada facendo in inutili divagazioni e finali aperti o comunque non soddisfacenti, La Matriarca esordisce in sordina, con un confusionario guazzabuglio di personaggi, per poi acquisire vigore negli ultimi capitoli con la love story tra i cugini Danny e Toni che in realtà si chiamano Daniel Maitland e Antoinette Rakonitz.
Danny vorrebbe sposare Toni e fuggire con lei lontano dal clan Rakonitz e soprattutto dall’ingombrante nonna Anastasia. Toni ama Danny, ma non vuole commettere lo stesso errore della Matriarca che ha dato vita a una progenie di deboli sposandosi con un cugino. Quando Danny scopre che la sua defunta madre Rakonitz in realtà lo aveva adottato, sembrano non esserci più impedimenti, ma alla fine è lui stesso a fuggire da Toni perché si rende conto che è una dispotica manipolatrice come la Matriarca. Un finale agrodolce, ma positivamente spiazzante.
Ah, la gloriosa epoca dei giveaway! Sono trascorsi ben nove anni da quando ho vinto una copia del romanzo più famoso di G.B. Stern, gentilmente offerto dalla casa editrice Sonzogno che lo ha proposto per la prima volta in Italia. Era il 2014 ed io l’ho messo in valigia nel 2023. Sarò sincera: a casa non trovavo mai il tempo per leggerlo.
Non sapevo nemmeno chi fosse G.B. Stern, dal nome credevo si trattasse di un uomo. Come? Sono solo iniziali puntate? Lo so, ma in casi del genere io immagino sempre di default un individuo di sesso maschile. Perché mai non presentarsi con il proprio nome completo? L’ambiguo G.B. Stern nasconde Gladys Bronwyn Stern (1890-1973) nata in realtà Gladys Bertha Stern.
Pare che G.B. Stern fosse un’autrice ben nota nella Londra degli anni Venti e Trenta del Ventesimo secolo, ma a quarant’anni dalla sua morte non si trovava più nessuna delle sue opere in commercio.
Quando nella presentazione ho letto che La Matriarca era stato paragonato ai Buddenbrook di Thomas Mann, diciamo che gli auspici per me non erano dei migliori, visto che una ventina di anni orsono li dovetti studiare all’università per un esame di letteratura tedesca e li trovai noiosi al punto da rammentare ormai solo quell’impressione e nulla della trama.
La prefazione dell’autrice non ha fatto altro che accrescere i miei timori, annunciando una famiglia numerosa con un’esorbitante quantità di zie, cugini e prozii. Ho cercato di essere ottimista confidando nel tono scanzonato e allegro promesso dalla presentazione e nelle rassicurazioni di G.B. Stern secondo la quale sarebbe stato possibile comprendere la storia anche non riuscendo a seguire le descrizioni dei personaggi nel primo capitolo, ma il risultato è stato Bittersweet, agrodolce, come il nome della collana in cui la casa editrice Sonzogno ha inserito il libro.
Mi affascinano gli alberi genealogici, ma questo non è il mio e benché a G.B. Stern sarà risultato probabilmente semplice ispirarsi alla storia della sua famiglia di ebrei cosmopoliti e non praticanti in quanto vicende a lei già note, il risultato espositivo non è all’altezza delle mie aspettative. La confusionaria ridda di personaggi straborda ben oltre il primo capitolo, rendendo difficile memorizzare gran parte dei nomi, dei legami di parentela e delle vicissitudini dei singoli individui.
Riassumendo, la storia si dipana tra il 1805 e la fine degli anni Venti del Ventesimo secolo. Forse perché scritto da una donna, in questo romanzo viene dato grande risalto alle figure femminili, a partire dalla capostipite Babette Weinberg che viveva a Bratislava. Babette sposa il commerciante Simon Rakonitz e Rakonitz diventerà il cognome del clan. Babette si trasferirà prima a Vienna e in seguito a Parigi.
Babette è la nonna della matriarca Anastasia che andrà a vivere a Londra per sfuggire all’assedio di Parigi del 1870. Anastasia è una donna dispotica che vizia i figli maschi e maltratta o ignora le figlie femmine. Rimasta vedova, si fa mantenere dai fratelli, dediti al redditizio commercio di pietre preziose. Spende e spande come se non ci fosse un domani. Viene definita generosa perché è sempre pronta ad aiutare il prossimo. Ma può definirsi tale una generosità che attinge al denaro altrui?
Come se non bastasse, la Matriarca è invadente e vorrebbe pianificare i matrimoni di tutti i familiari, obbligandoli poi a vivere con lei nella sua enorme casa. La cosa peggiore è che quasi sempre riesce ad attuare i suoi perversi piani, grazie alla sudditanza psicologica che esercita nei confronti dei parenti.
Lei però ha fatto sempre di testa sua e ha sposato un cugino. A dire il vero il clan Rakonitz è spesso ricorso ai matrimoni tra consanguinei e il risultato è un eterno ripresentarsi dei cognomi Czelovar, Bettelheim e Rakonitz. Fortunatamente c’è anche chi ha guardato oltre, scegliendosi un partner al di fuori della cerchia familiare, come il padre di Toni Rakonitz, nipote di Anastasia e futura nuova Matriarca. La povera Susie Lake è stata però costretta a vivere per anni nella casa di sua suocera, vittima di un marito succube della propria madre che non voleva lasciarlo andare via.
Nel 1910 l’opulenta famiglia Rakonitz cade in disgrazia a causa di un investimento sbagliato nelle miniere birmane e varie donne della nuova generazione iniziano a lavorare. Tra le protagoniste di questa gradita ventata di modernità c’è la giovane Toni che in breve tempo diventa un’affermata agente di commercio nel settore moda per poi riuscire a coronare il suo sogno di diventare una stilista e aprire il proprio atelier.
Contrariamente a molti romanzi che catturano immediatamente l’attenzione del lettore per poi perdersi strada facendo in inutili divagazioni e finali aperti o comunque non soddisfacenti, La Matriarca esordisce in sordina, con un confusionario guazzabuglio di personaggi, per poi acquisire vigore negli ultimi capitoli con la love story tra i cugini Danny e Toni che in realtà si chiamano Daniel Maitland e Antoinette Rakonitz.
Danny vorrebbe sposare Toni e fuggire con lei lontano dal clan Rakonitz e soprattutto dall’ingombrante nonna Anastasia. Toni ama Danny, ma non vuole commettere lo stesso errore della Matriarca che ha dato vita a una progenie di deboli sposandosi con un cugino. Quando Danny scopre che la sua defunta madre Rakonitz in realtà lo aveva adottato, sembrano non esserci più impedimenti, ma alla fine è lui stesso a fuggire da Toni perché si rende conto che è una dispotica manipolatrice come la Matriarca. Un finale agrodolce, ma positivamente spiazzante.
January 2, 2016
Rather a slow starter (all those names!), but I got more interested once it settled down to Toni's POV. I'll have to go back and read the books all together once I have them all and see how they fit together. That might be interesting paired reading with The Forsyte Saga, actually; this book is dedicated to Galsworthy, in fact.
January 22, 2022
L'inizio è confusionario, una festa di antenate, ma d'altronde l'autrice ci avvisa nella sua breve prefazione di non spaventarsi perchè il filo della narrazione verrà presto ritrovato e i personaggi delineati.
Il resto è storia di donne israelite, non praticanti e cosmopolite, che condividono la vita con uomini deboli, affascinanti e poco rilevanti nei fatti della vita: loro compito è portare soldi a casa e godersi la vita con sfarzo ed eleganza.
Ma neanche le donne scherzano in fatto di godersi la vita: spenderecce e sfrenate nei divertimenti, o sottomesse e chiuse in casa a gestire biancheria e mobili, sono guidate dall'invincibile Matriarca, Anastasia, che detta il bello e cattivo tempo, in piena incoscienza, pronta a essere una guida totalmente sregolata per questa vasta famiglia che si estende per tutta Europa, ma il cui centro è in Inghilterra, dove si stabilisce 'Stasia.
Il nuovo secolo porterà le donne della nuova generazione alla ribalta: nuove, ma anche vere protagoniste, soprattutto Toni, la prima nipote della Matriarca.
La famiglia è la nostra vita, protezione e prigione, legame affettivo e catena, aiuto e fonte di problemi e malesseri: il conflitto è tra la natura duplice femminile ancor più che maschile, tra libertà e onore e lealtà alla famiglia.
Romanzo letto tutto d'un fiato che mi conferma il mio amore per le narrazioni familiari. Felice di averlo notato dieci anni fa in libreria e di essermene ricordata in tempo e di averlo comprato (usato- cosa che ho trovato deliziosa per alcune cose che vi avevano lasciato dentro) per farmi un regalo quest'anno.
Il resto è storia di donne israelite, non praticanti e cosmopolite, che condividono la vita con uomini deboli, affascinanti e poco rilevanti nei fatti della vita: loro compito è portare soldi a casa e godersi la vita con sfarzo ed eleganza.
Ma neanche le donne scherzano in fatto di godersi la vita: spenderecce e sfrenate nei divertimenti, o sottomesse e chiuse in casa a gestire biancheria e mobili, sono guidate dall'invincibile Matriarca, Anastasia, che detta il bello e cattivo tempo, in piena incoscienza, pronta a essere una guida totalmente sregolata per questa vasta famiglia che si estende per tutta Europa, ma il cui centro è in Inghilterra, dove si stabilisce 'Stasia.
Il nuovo secolo porterà le donne della nuova generazione alla ribalta: nuove, ma anche vere protagoniste, soprattutto Toni, la prima nipote della Matriarca.
La famiglia è la nostra vita, protezione e prigione, legame affettivo e catena, aiuto e fonte di problemi e malesseri: il conflitto è tra la natura duplice femminile ancor più che maschile, tra libertà e onore e lealtà alla famiglia.
Romanzo letto tutto d'un fiato che mi conferma il mio amore per le narrazioni familiari. Felice di averlo notato dieci anni fa in libreria e di essermene ricordata in tempo e di averlo comprato (usato- cosa che ho trovato deliziosa per alcune cose che vi avevano lasciato dentro) per farmi un regalo quest'anno.
January 8, 2018
It’s a story about witches—not actual witches, mind, but powerful and charismatic women who draw together, coven-like, to protect their own. It’s about the titular Matriarch, Anastasia Rakonitz, who rules uncontested over generations of the Family, a benign and implacable tyrant. It’s about Toni, her granddaughter, cool and levelheaded but subject to occasional fits of passionate rebellion, trying to navigate her way through outdated power structures, decaying splendour and destitution; torn between the boy she loves and her beloved family and the contrasting ideals they represent. It’s about a whole generation of young women on the eve of WW1, who have been failed by their elders and brothers and uncles, and who are the ones who will save the family, despite oppression from all corners.
This was glorious. It reminded me a lot of Sybille Bedford (though not quite as good). The Family chronicle written by a woman, to include women’s struggles. Just brilliant.
This was glorious. It reminded me a lot of Sybille Bedford (though not quite as good). The Family chronicle written by a woman, to include women’s struggles. Just brilliant.
September 6, 2024
An intricately woven genealogical work of fiction that tells the tale of a Jewish family from the early 1800s to about 1920. The author tells the reader not to get too wrapped up in getting everyone straight in the first chapter, and it is difficult to keep the characters straight. However, the story, for the most part, tells of the three main matriarchs through the generations. Babette, the first one we learn of, used to translate for Napoleon. Anastasia, the second one, marries her cousin and runs the family like a Queen. And then, Toni, the third one, must take over when the family begins to unravel.
It’s a family saga of epic proportions. I do take issue with the derogatory terms used at one point. Unnecessary and inappropriate.
It’s a family saga of epic proportions. I do take issue with the derogatory terms used at one point. Unnecessary and inappropriate.
June 2, 2017
I really appreciate the work that Virago has done in reviving female authors and republishing their lost work. I thought this would be a good read because it seemed to be billed as a take on Anglo-Jewish life. Ugh, it was so hard to get through it. Everything that wasn't dull was embarrassing. It all felt like a lot of internalized antisemitism. No one was religiously Jewish and their cultural Jewishness consisted of continuing to make Viennese food, prefer male to female children, and like pretty clothes. Meh.
July 25, 2018
I bought this book 35 years ago when I lived in MN. For some reason, I moved it to Washington. So when I found it tucked away in the back of a bookshelf, I decided it might be worth a read. It was so good! This is the story of the large Rakonitz family, a Jewish family in Europe in the late 1880s-1920. This book is the first book of three, all of which were first published in London. Virgo Press reprinted them. Well worth the read if you can find a copy: it is one I will remember for a long time
July 22, 2022
This book is not for everyone. GB Stern introduces us to a huge cast of characters and it is initially very difficult to follow who is who and indeed to care much for any individual. As the story progresses it become clear that this is a tale of the strong women in the Rakonitz family. The novel follows their history from the beginning of the nineteenth century when the family saw itself as Jewish and lived in Europe to the middle of the twentieth century when they have settled in the UK.
September 16, 2021
I don't know how a Jewish family saga with an enormous cast of characters outlined on a trifold endsheet insert (dozens of names!) manages to be so energetic, humorous, and engaging, but is it ever. A really compelling, lighthearted book that is surprisingly feminist and modern for being written in the early 1920s. I loved it and will be looking out for more by this "lost" author.
April 16, 2019
Lovely, big, messy family saga. To begin with I wished that there was some sort of aid to understanding who each character was but in the end felt that this would make everything too neat - in large families there are always those relatives that no one is quite sure how they are related.. Lots of strong female characters as well as a strong sense of the Central Europe that they originated from, the cosmopolitan lives that they have led and the effects of this on the ‘modern’ generation. Very enjoyable.
June 4, 2025
There is something sparkling about the Rakonitz family - in poverty and in wealth, in illness and in health. This is a story with no real plot, lots of colourful, zany characters as they spread out across Europe during the late 19th century to early 20th century. It's very hard to describe this novel, but it does keep you wanting to read just a little bit more. The family lines can be confusing at times, and Stern outright lies to you in the first chapter - it kind of is important to remember all of the different family lines. Absolutely loved the conclusion.
Great novel.
Great novel.
July 14, 2014
Too many characters to keep up with them and only got interesting for the last quarter
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