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The Provincial Lady #1-5
The Complete Provincial Lady Series - All 5 Novels in One Edition (Illustrated Edition): The Diary of a Provincial Lady / The Provincial Lady Goes Further / The Provincial Lady in America / The Provincial Lady in Russia / The Provincial Lady in Wartime
This carefully crafted ebook: "The Provincial Lady - Complete Series (All 5 Novels With Original Illustrations)" is formatted for your eReader with a functional and detailed table of contents.
The Provincial Lady series is guaranteed to make you laugh by its witty take on the foibles of a young upper middle-class English woman living mostly in a Devon village of the 1930s.
Excerpt:
"November 7th.—Plant the indoor bulbs. Just as I am in the middle of them, Lady Boxe calls. I say, untruthfully, how nice to see her, and beg her to sit down while I just finish the bulbs. Lady B. makes determined attempt to sit down in armchair where I have already placed two bulb-bowls and the bag of charcoal, is headed off just in time, and takes the sofa." (The Diary of a Provincial Lady)
E. M. Delafield (1890-1943) was a prolific English author and is best known for her largely witty and autobiographical Provincial Lady Series, which took the form of a journal.
TABLE OF CONTENTS:
The Diary of a Provincial Lady
The Provincial Lady Goes Further
The Provincial Lady in America
The Provincial Lady in Russia (I Visit The Soviets)
The Provincial Lady in Wartime
The Provincial Lady series is guaranteed to make you laugh by its witty take on the foibles of a young upper middle-class English woman living mostly in a Devon village of the 1930s.
Excerpt:
"November 7th.—Plant the indoor bulbs. Just as I am in the middle of them, Lady Boxe calls. I say, untruthfully, how nice to see her, and beg her to sit down while I just finish the bulbs. Lady B. makes determined attempt to sit down in armchair where I have already placed two bulb-bowls and the bag of charcoal, is headed off just in time, and takes the sofa." (The Diary of a Provincial Lady)
E. M. Delafield (1890-1943) was a prolific English author and is best known for her largely witty and autobiographical Provincial Lady Series, which took the form of a journal.
TABLE OF CONTENTS:
The Diary of a Provincial Lady
The Provincial Lady Goes Further
The Provincial Lady in America
The Provincial Lady in Russia (I Visit The Soviets)
The Provincial Lady in Wartime
776 pages, Kindle Edition
Published July 30, 2015
145 people are currently reading
232 people want to read
About the author
E.M. Delafield
155 books148 followersEdmée Elizabeth Monica Dashwood, née de la Pasture (9 June 1890 – 2 December 1943), commonly known as E. M. Delafield, was a prolific English author who is best-known for her largely autobiographical Diary of a Provincial Lady, which took the form of a journal of the life of an upper-middle class Englishwoman living mostly in a Devon village of the 1930s, and its sequels in which the Provincial Lady buys a flat in London and travels to America. Other sequels of note are her experiences looking for war-work during the Phoney War in 1939, and her experiences as a tourist in the Soviet Union.
Daughter of the novelist Mrs. Henry De La Pasture.
Daughter of the novelist Mrs. Henry De La Pasture.
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Displaying 1 - 22 of 22 reviews
January 25, 2017
E.M. Delafield's Provincial Lady comes in five volumes. The Timeless Wisdom Collection is a reprint on kindle where you can have them all for just US$0.99.
I particularly enjoyed Books 1 and 2, which cover our Provincial Lady’s family life between the Wars - struggling to make ends meet, raise and educate two children, live the social life of a ‘lady’ in her English village, and develop her own writing career. She doesn’t always get it right and often feels ineffectual.
Book 3, In America as a successful author, was interesting enough but didn’t have the humourous details of the earlier two.
Book 4, in Wartime, was as tedious to read as it was to live. This is set in the lead up to the war, when everyone was called on to volunteer but there was nothing for them to do. Everyone is asking everyone else ‘do you have some work for me’. Our Provincial Lady ended up working part time in a canteen for ambulance drivers, etc until something more suited to her talents came along.
Book 5, In Russia, where she is sent to gather information. An interesting look at the country and its inhabitants at that time. Russians believed they were living the only way possible as a socialist country, but no one seemed happy.
The books are somewhat disjointed and more context and connection would have been nice, but enjoyable readings of the period nonetheless.
I particularly enjoyed Books 1 and 2, which cover our Provincial Lady’s family life between the Wars - struggling to make ends meet, raise and educate two children, live the social life of a ‘lady’ in her English village, and develop her own writing career. She doesn’t always get it right and often feels ineffectual.
Book 3, In America as a successful author, was interesting enough but didn’t have the humourous details of the earlier two.
Book 4, in Wartime, was as tedious to read as it was to live. This is set in the lead up to the war, when everyone was called on to volunteer but there was nothing for them to do. Everyone is asking everyone else ‘do you have some work for me’. Our Provincial Lady ended up working part time in a canteen for ambulance drivers, etc until something more suited to her talents came along.
Book 5, In Russia, where she is sent to gather information. An interesting look at the country and its inhabitants at that time. Russians believed they were living the only way possible as a socialist country, but no one seemed happy.
The books are somewhat disjointed and more context and connection would have been nice, but enjoyable readings of the period nonetheless.
December 24, 2020
First few paragraphs set the tone for a delightful, light, witty flight into this provincial world.
............
"Do I know, she asks, how very late it is for indoor bulbs? September, really, or even October, is the time. Do I know that the only really reliable firm for hyacinths is Somebody of Haarlem? Cannot catch the name of the firm, which is Dutch, but reply Yes, I do know, but think it my duty to buy Empire products. Feel at the time, and still think, that this is an excellent reply. Unfortunately Vicky comes into the drawing-room later and says: "O Mummie, are those the bulbs we got at Woolworths?"
"Lady B. stays to tea. (Mem.: Bread-and-butter too thick. Speak to Ethel.) We talk some more about bulbs, the Dutch School of Painting, our Vicar's wife, sciatica, and All Quiet on the Western Front.
"(Query: Is it possible to cultivate the art of conversation when living in the country all the year round?)"
"Do I realise, says Lady B., that the Cold Habit is entirely unnecessary, and can be avoided by giving the child a nasal douche of salt-and-water every morning before breakfast?
"Think of several rather tart and witty rejoinders to this, but unfortunately not until Lady B.'s Bentley has taken her away."
............
"Am asked what I think of Harriet Hume but am unable to say, as I have not read it. Have a depressed feeling that this is going to be another case of Orlando about which was perfectly able to talk most intelligently until I read it, and found myself unfortunately unable to understand any of it.
"Robert comes up very late and says he must have dropped asleep over the Times. (Query: Why come to Bournemouth to do this?)
"Postcard by the last post from Lady B. to ask if I have remembered that there is a Committee Meeting of the Women's Institute on the 14th. Should not dream of answering this."
............
"December 9th.—Rose staying here two days before going on to London. Says All American houses are Always Warm, which annoys Robert. He says in return that All American houses are Grossly Overheated and Entirely Airless. Impossible not to feel that this would carry more weight if Robert had ever been to America. Rose also very insistent about efficiency of American Telephone Service, and inclined to ask for glasses of cold water at breakfast time—which Robert does not approve of.
"Otherwise dear Rose entirely unchanged and offers to put me up in her West-End flat as often as I like to come to London. Accept gratefully. (N.B. How very different to old school-friend Cissie Crabbe, with bed-sitting-room and gas-ring in Norwich! But should not like to think myself in any way a snob.)
"On Rose's advice, bring bulb-bowls up from cellar and put them in drawing-room. Several of them perfectly visible, but somehow do not look entirely healthy. Rose thinks too much watering. If so, Cissie Crabbe entirely to blame. (Mem.: Either move bulb-bowls upstairs, or tell Ethel to show Lady Boxe into morning-room, if she calls. Cannot possibly enter into further discussion with her concerning bulbs.)"
............
"Very, very distinguished Novelist approaches me (having evidently mistaken me for someone else), and talks amiably. She says that she can only write between twelve at night and four in the morning, and not always then. When she cannot write, she plays the organ. Should much like to ask whether she is married—but get no opportunity of asking that or anything else. She tells me about her sales. She tells me about her last book. She tells me about her new one. She says that there are many people here to whom she must speak, and pursues well-known Poet—who does not, however, allow her to catch up with him. Can understand this."
Note the wit in not separating the last three word sentence from the paragraph until then!
"Move about after dinner, and meet acquaintance whose name I have forgotten, but connect with literature. I ask if he has published anything lately. He says that his work is not, and never can be, for publication. Thought passes through my mind to the effect that this attitude might with advantage be adopted by many others. Do not say so, however, and we talk instead about Rebecca West, the progress of aviation, and the case for and against stag-hunting."
"Cook says she hopes I enjoyed my holiday, and it is very quiet in the country. I leave the kitchen before she has time to say more, but am only too well aware that this is not the last of it.
"Write grateful letter to Rose, at the same time explaining difficulty of broadening my outlook by further time spent away from home, just at present."
............
"Go up to night-nursery and offer to read Lamb's Tales from Shakespeare. Vicky says she prefers Pip, Squeak, and Wilfred. Robin says that he would like Gulliver's Travels. Compromise on Grimm's Fairy Tales, although slightly uneasy as to their being in accordance with best modern ideals. Both children take immense interest in story of highly undesirable person who wins fortune, fame, and beautiful Princess by means of lies, violence, and treachery. Feel sure that this must have disastrous effect on both in years to come.
"Our Vicar's wife calls before Mademoiselle returns. ... "
"How, she says, are the dear children, and how is my husband? I reply suitably, and she tells me about cinnamon, Viapex, gargling with glycerine of thymnol, blackcurrant tea, onion broth, friar's balsam, linseed poultices, and thermogene wool. I sneeze and say Thank you—thank you very much, a good many times.. She goes, but turns back at the door to tell me about wool next the skin, nasal douching, and hot milk last thing at night. I say Thank you, again. On returning to night-nursery, find that Robin has unscrewed top of hot-water bottle in Vicky's bed, which apparently contained several hundred gallons of tepid water, now distributed through and through pillows, pyjamas, sheets, blankets, and mattresses of both. I ring for Ethel—who helps me to reorganise entire situation and says It's like a hospital, isn't it, trays up and down stairs all day long, and all this extra work."
............
"February 11th.—Robin writes again about cigarette-cards. I send him all those I have collected, and Vicky produces two which she has obtained from the garden-boy. Find that this quest grows upon one, and am apt now, when in Plymouth or any other town, to scan gutters, pavements, and tram-floors in search of Curious Beaks, Famous Football Players, and the like. Have even gone so far as to implore perfect stranger, sitting opposite me in train, not to throw cigarette-card out of the window, but give it to me instead. Perfect stranger does so with an air of courteous astonishment, and as he asks for no explanation, am obliged to leave him under the impression that I have merely been trying to force him into conversation with me."
............
" ... Past five o'clock before we are allowed to go in to tea, by which time am only too well aware that my face is blue and my hands purple. Lady B. asks me at tea how the children are, and adds, to the table at large, that I am "A Perfect Mother". Am naturally avoided, conversationally, after this, by everybody at the tea-table. Later on, Lady B. tells us about South of France. She quotes repartees made by herself in French, and then translates them.
"(Unavoidable Query presents itself here: Would a verdict of Justifiable Homicide delivered against their mother affect future careers of children unfavourably?)"
"Shall she, says Lady B., ring for my car? Refrain from replying that no amount of ringing will bring my car to the door all by itself, and say instead that I walked. Lady B. exclaims that this is Impossible, and that I am Too Marvellous, Altogether. Take my leave before she can add that I am such a Perfect Countrywoman, which I feel is coming next.
"Get home—still chilled to the bone owing to enforced detention at Hard Court—and tell Robert what I think of Lady B. ... "
"Say good-night to Vicky, looking angelic in bed, and ask what she is thinking about, lying there. She disconcertingly replies with briskness: "Oh, Kangaroos and things."
"(Note: The workings of the infant mind very, very difficult to follow, sometimes. Mothers by no means infallible.)"
............
"Start directly after lunch, Robert and Mary's husband appearing in a highly unnatural state of shiny smartness with a top-hat apiece. Effect of this splendour greatly mitigated, when they don the top-hats, by screams of unaffected amusement from both children. We drive off, leaving them leaning against Mademoiselle, apparently helpless with mirth.
"(Query: Is not the inferiority complex, about which so much is written and spoken, nowadays shifting from the child to the parent?)"
"I ask Robert, sentimentally, if this makes him think of our wedding. He looks surprised and says No, not particularly, why should it? As I cannot at the moment think of any particular reply to this, the question drops.
"Remove shoes with great thankfulness."
............
" ... However, says Mrs. Blenkinsop with a sad smile, it is never her way to dwell upon herself and her own troubles. She just sits there, day after day, always ready to sympathise in the little joys and troubles of others, and I would hardly believe how unfailingly these are brought to her. People say, she adds deprecatingly, that just her Smile does them good. She does not know, she says, what they mean. (Neither do I.)
"After this, there is a pause, and I feel that Mrs. B. is waiting for me to pour out my little joys and troubles. Perhaps she hopes that Robert has been unfaithful to me, or that I have fallen in love with the Vicar."
............
"March 28th.—Read admirable, but profoundly discouraging, article in Time and Tide relating to Bernard Shaw's women, but applying to most of us. Realise—not for the first time—that intelligent women can perhaps best perform their duty towards their own sex by devastating process of telling them the truth about themselves. At the same time, cannot feel that I shall really enjoy hearing it. ... Have very often wondered if Mothers are not rather A Mistake altogether, and now definitely come to the conclusion that they are.
"Interesting speculation as to how they might best be replaced interrupted by necessity of seeing that Fitzs. is turning out spare-bedroom according to instructions. Am unspeakably disgusted at finding him sitting in spare-room armchair, with feet on the window-sill. He says that he is "not feeling very well". Am much more taken aback than he is, and lose my head to the extent of replying: "Then go and be it in your own room." Realise afterwards that this might have been better worded."
............
"A letter from Lady B. saying that she has only just heard about measles—(Why only just, when news has been all over parish for weeks?) and is so sorry, especially as measles are no joke at my age—(Can she be in league with Doctor, who also used identical objectionable expression?).—She cannot come herself to enquire, as with so many visitors always coming and going it wouldn't be wise, but if I want anything from the House, I am to telephone without hesitation. She has given "her people" orders that anything I ask for is to be sent up. Have a very good mind to telephone and ask for a pound of tea and Lady B.'s pearl necklace—(Could Cleopatra be quoted as precedent here?)—and see what happens."
............
"July 18th, at Ste. Agathe.—Vicissitudes of travel very strange, and am struck—as often—by enormous dissimilarity between journeys undertaken in real life, and as reported in fiction. Can remember very few novels in which train journey of any kind does not involve either (a) Hectic encounter with member of opposite sex, leading to tense emotional issue; (b) discovery of murdered body in hideously battered condition, under circumstances which utterly defy detection; (c) elopement between two people each of whom is married to somebody else, culminating in severe disillusionment, or lofty renunciation."
"Make distressing discovery that there is no way of obtaining breakfast until train halts at Avignon. Break this information later to American young gentleman, who falls into deep distress and says that he does not know the French for grapefruit. Neither do I, but am able to inform him decisively that he will not require it.
"Train is late, and does not reach Avignon till nearly ten. American young gentleman has a severe panic, and assures me that if he leaves the train it will start without him. This happened once before at Davenport, Iowa. In order to avoid similar calamity, on this occasion, I offer to procure him a cup of coffee and two rolls, and successfully do so—but attend first to my own requirements. We all brighten after this, and Guguste announces his intention of shaving. His mother screams, and says, "Mais c'est fou" (But that’s crazy!) —with which I privately agree—and everybody else remonstrates with Guguste (except Dédé, who is wrapped in gloom), and points out that the train is rocking, and he will cut himself. The blue béret goes so far as to predict that he will decapitate himself, at which everybody screams.
"Guguste remains adamant, and produces shaving apparatus and a little mug, which is given to Dédé to hold. We sit around in great suspense, and Guguste is supported by one elbow by his mother, while he conducts operations to a conclusion which produces no perceptible change whatever in his appearance."
............
"Customary rather touching display of affection between Robin and Vicky much to the fore, and am sorry to feel that repeated experience of holidays has taught me not to count for one moment upon its lasting more than twenty-four hours—if that.
"(Query: Does motherhood lead to cynicism? This contrary to every convention of art, literature, or morality, but cannot altogether escape conviction that answer may be in the affirmative.)
"In spite of this, however, cannot remain quite unmoved on hearing Vicky inform Cook that when she marries, her husband will be exactly like Robin. Cook replies indulgently, That's right, but come out of that sauce-boat, there's a good girl, and what about Master Robin's wife? To which Robin rejoins, he doesn't suppose he'll be able to get a wife exactly like Vicky, as she's so good, there couldn't be another one."
............
"Vicky offended at not being included in what she evidently looks upon as nightly banquet of Lucullan magnificence, and covertly supported in this rebellious attitude by Mademoiselle. Am quite struck by extraordinary persistence with which Vicky, day after day, enquires Why she can't stay up to dinner too? and equally phenomenal number of times that I reply with unvarying formula that Six years old is too young, darling."
............
" ... Miss P., accompanied by two sheep-dogs and some leggy little boys.
"Little boys turn out to be nephews, paying a visit, and are told to go and make friends ....
............
"Do I know, she asks, how very late it is for indoor bulbs? September, really, or even October, is the time. Do I know that the only really reliable firm for hyacinths is Somebody of Haarlem? Cannot catch the name of the firm, which is Dutch, but reply Yes, I do know, but think it my duty to buy Empire products. Feel at the time, and still think, that this is an excellent reply. Unfortunately Vicky comes into the drawing-room later and says: "O Mummie, are those the bulbs we got at Woolworths?"
"Lady B. stays to tea. (Mem.: Bread-and-butter too thick. Speak to Ethel.) We talk some more about bulbs, the Dutch School of Painting, our Vicar's wife, sciatica, and All Quiet on the Western Front.
"(Query: Is it possible to cultivate the art of conversation when living in the country all the year round?)"
"Do I realise, says Lady B., that the Cold Habit is entirely unnecessary, and can be avoided by giving the child a nasal douche of salt-and-water every morning before breakfast?
"Think of several rather tart and witty rejoinders to this, but unfortunately not until Lady B.'s Bentley has taken her away."
............
"Am asked what I think of Harriet Hume but am unable to say, as I have not read it. Have a depressed feeling that this is going to be another case of Orlando about which was perfectly able to talk most intelligently until I read it, and found myself unfortunately unable to understand any of it.
"Robert comes up very late and says he must have dropped asleep over the Times. (Query: Why come to Bournemouth to do this?)
"Postcard by the last post from Lady B. to ask if I have remembered that there is a Committee Meeting of the Women's Institute on the 14th. Should not dream of answering this."
............
"December 9th.—Rose staying here two days before going on to London. Says All American houses are Always Warm, which annoys Robert. He says in return that All American houses are Grossly Overheated and Entirely Airless. Impossible not to feel that this would carry more weight if Robert had ever been to America. Rose also very insistent about efficiency of American Telephone Service, and inclined to ask for glasses of cold water at breakfast time—which Robert does not approve of.
"Otherwise dear Rose entirely unchanged and offers to put me up in her West-End flat as often as I like to come to London. Accept gratefully. (N.B. How very different to old school-friend Cissie Crabbe, with bed-sitting-room and gas-ring in Norwich! But should not like to think myself in any way a snob.)
"On Rose's advice, bring bulb-bowls up from cellar and put them in drawing-room. Several of them perfectly visible, but somehow do not look entirely healthy. Rose thinks too much watering. If so, Cissie Crabbe entirely to blame. (Mem.: Either move bulb-bowls upstairs, or tell Ethel to show Lady Boxe into morning-room, if she calls. Cannot possibly enter into further discussion with her concerning bulbs.)"
............
"Very, very distinguished Novelist approaches me (having evidently mistaken me for someone else), and talks amiably. She says that she can only write between twelve at night and four in the morning, and not always then. When she cannot write, she plays the organ. Should much like to ask whether she is married—but get no opportunity of asking that or anything else. She tells me about her sales. She tells me about her last book. She tells me about her new one. She says that there are many people here to whom she must speak, and pursues well-known Poet—who does not, however, allow her to catch up with him. Can understand this."
Note the wit in not separating the last three word sentence from the paragraph until then!
"Move about after dinner, and meet acquaintance whose name I have forgotten, but connect with literature. I ask if he has published anything lately. He says that his work is not, and never can be, for publication. Thought passes through my mind to the effect that this attitude might with advantage be adopted by many others. Do not say so, however, and we talk instead about Rebecca West, the progress of aviation, and the case for and against stag-hunting."
"Cook says she hopes I enjoyed my holiday, and it is very quiet in the country. I leave the kitchen before she has time to say more, but am only too well aware that this is not the last of it.
"Write grateful letter to Rose, at the same time explaining difficulty of broadening my outlook by further time spent away from home, just at present."
............
"Go up to night-nursery and offer to read Lamb's Tales from Shakespeare. Vicky says she prefers Pip, Squeak, and Wilfred. Robin says that he would like Gulliver's Travels. Compromise on Grimm's Fairy Tales, although slightly uneasy as to their being in accordance with best modern ideals. Both children take immense interest in story of highly undesirable person who wins fortune, fame, and beautiful Princess by means of lies, violence, and treachery. Feel sure that this must have disastrous effect on both in years to come.
"Our Vicar's wife calls before Mademoiselle returns. ... "
"How, she says, are the dear children, and how is my husband? I reply suitably, and she tells me about cinnamon, Viapex, gargling with glycerine of thymnol, blackcurrant tea, onion broth, friar's balsam, linseed poultices, and thermogene wool. I sneeze and say Thank you—thank you very much, a good many times.. She goes, but turns back at the door to tell me about wool next the skin, nasal douching, and hot milk last thing at night. I say Thank you, again. On returning to night-nursery, find that Robin has unscrewed top of hot-water bottle in Vicky's bed, which apparently contained several hundred gallons of tepid water, now distributed through and through pillows, pyjamas, sheets, blankets, and mattresses of both. I ring for Ethel—who helps me to reorganise entire situation and says It's like a hospital, isn't it, trays up and down stairs all day long, and all this extra work."
............
"February 11th.—Robin writes again about cigarette-cards. I send him all those I have collected, and Vicky produces two which she has obtained from the garden-boy. Find that this quest grows upon one, and am apt now, when in Plymouth or any other town, to scan gutters, pavements, and tram-floors in search of Curious Beaks, Famous Football Players, and the like. Have even gone so far as to implore perfect stranger, sitting opposite me in train, not to throw cigarette-card out of the window, but give it to me instead. Perfect stranger does so with an air of courteous astonishment, and as he asks for no explanation, am obliged to leave him under the impression that I have merely been trying to force him into conversation with me."
............
" ... Past five o'clock before we are allowed to go in to tea, by which time am only too well aware that my face is blue and my hands purple. Lady B. asks me at tea how the children are, and adds, to the table at large, that I am "A Perfect Mother". Am naturally avoided, conversationally, after this, by everybody at the tea-table. Later on, Lady B. tells us about South of France. She quotes repartees made by herself in French, and then translates them.
"(Unavoidable Query presents itself here: Would a verdict of Justifiable Homicide delivered against their mother affect future careers of children unfavourably?)"
"Shall she, says Lady B., ring for my car? Refrain from replying that no amount of ringing will bring my car to the door all by itself, and say instead that I walked. Lady B. exclaims that this is Impossible, and that I am Too Marvellous, Altogether. Take my leave before she can add that I am such a Perfect Countrywoman, which I feel is coming next.
"Get home—still chilled to the bone owing to enforced detention at Hard Court—and tell Robert what I think of Lady B. ... "
"Say good-night to Vicky, looking angelic in bed, and ask what she is thinking about, lying there. She disconcertingly replies with briskness: "Oh, Kangaroos and things."
"(Note: The workings of the infant mind very, very difficult to follow, sometimes. Mothers by no means infallible.)"
............
"Start directly after lunch, Robert and Mary's husband appearing in a highly unnatural state of shiny smartness with a top-hat apiece. Effect of this splendour greatly mitigated, when they don the top-hats, by screams of unaffected amusement from both children. We drive off, leaving them leaning against Mademoiselle, apparently helpless with mirth.
"(Query: Is not the inferiority complex, about which so much is written and spoken, nowadays shifting from the child to the parent?)"
"I ask Robert, sentimentally, if this makes him think of our wedding. He looks surprised and says No, not particularly, why should it? As I cannot at the moment think of any particular reply to this, the question drops.
"Remove shoes with great thankfulness."
............
" ... However, says Mrs. Blenkinsop with a sad smile, it is never her way to dwell upon herself and her own troubles. She just sits there, day after day, always ready to sympathise in the little joys and troubles of others, and I would hardly believe how unfailingly these are brought to her. People say, she adds deprecatingly, that just her Smile does them good. She does not know, she says, what they mean. (Neither do I.)
"After this, there is a pause, and I feel that Mrs. B. is waiting for me to pour out my little joys and troubles. Perhaps she hopes that Robert has been unfaithful to me, or that I have fallen in love with the Vicar."
............
"March 28th.—Read admirable, but profoundly discouraging, article in Time and Tide relating to Bernard Shaw's women, but applying to most of us. Realise—not for the first time—that intelligent women can perhaps best perform their duty towards their own sex by devastating process of telling them the truth about themselves. At the same time, cannot feel that I shall really enjoy hearing it. ... Have very often wondered if Mothers are not rather A Mistake altogether, and now definitely come to the conclusion that they are.
"Interesting speculation as to how they might best be replaced interrupted by necessity of seeing that Fitzs. is turning out spare-bedroom according to instructions. Am unspeakably disgusted at finding him sitting in spare-room armchair, with feet on the window-sill. He says that he is "not feeling very well". Am much more taken aback than he is, and lose my head to the extent of replying: "Then go and be it in your own room." Realise afterwards that this might have been better worded."
............
"A letter from Lady B. saying that she has only just heard about measles—(Why only just, when news has been all over parish for weeks?) and is so sorry, especially as measles are no joke at my age—(Can she be in league with Doctor, who also used identical objectionable expression?).—She cannot come herself to enquire, as with so many visitors always coming and going it wouldn't be wise, but if I want anything from the House, I am to telephone without hesitation. She has given "her people" orders that anything I ask for is to be sent up. Have a very good mind to telephone and ask for a pound of tea and Lady B.'s pearl necklace—(Could Cleopatra be quoted as precedent here?)—and see what happens."
............
"July 18th, at Ste. Agathe.—Vicissitudes of travel very strange, and am struck—as often—by enormous dissimilarity between journeys undertaken in real life, and as reported in fiction. Can remember very few novels in which train journey of any kind does not involve either (a) Hectic encounter with member of opposite sex, leading to tense emotional issue; (b) discovery of murdered body in hideously battered condition, under circumstances which utterly defy detection; (c) elopement between two people each of whom is married to somebody else, culminating in severe disillusionment, or lofty renunciation."
"Make distressing discovery that there is no way of obtaining breakfast until train halts at Avignon. Break this information later to American young gentleman, who falls into deep distress and says that he does not know the French for grapefruit. Neither do I, but am able to inform him decisively that he will not require it.
"Train is late, and does not reach Avignon till nearly ten. American young gentleman has a severe panic, and assures me that if he leaves the train it will start without him. This happened once before at Davenport, Iowa. In order to avoid similar calamity, on this occasion, I offer to procure him a cup of coffee and two rolls, and successfully do so—but attend first to my own requirements. We all brighten after this, and Guguste announces his intention of shaving. His mother screams, and says, "Mais c'est fou" (But that’s crazy!) —with which I privately agree—and everybody else remonstrates with Guguste (except Dédé, who is wrapped in gloom), and points out that the train is rocking, and he will cut himself. The blue béret goes so far as to predict that he will decapitate himself, at which everybody screams.
"Guguste remains adamant, and produces shaving apparatus and a little mug, which is given to Dédé to hold. We sit around in great suspense, and Guguste is supported by one elbow by his mother, while he conducts operations to a conclusion which produces no perceptible change whatever in his appearance."
............
"Customary rather touching display of affection between Robin and Vicky much to the fore, and am sorry to feel that repeated experience of holidays has taught me not to count for one moment upon its lasting more than twenty-four hours—if that.
"(Query: Does motherhood lead to cynicism? This contrary to every convention of art, literature, or morality, but cannot altogether escape conviction that answer may be in the affirmative.)
"In spite of this, however, cannot remain quite unmoved on hearing Vicky inform Cook that when she marries, her husband will be exactly like Robin. Cook replies indulgently, That's right, but come out of that sauce-boat, there's a good girl, and what about Master Robin's wife? To which Robin rejoins, he doesn't suppose he'll be able to get a wife exactly like Vicky, as she's so good, there couldn't be another one."
............
"Vicky offended at not being included in what she evidently looks upon as nightly banquet of Lucullan magnificence, and covertly supported in this rebellious attitude by Mademoiselle. Am quite struck by extraordinary persistence with which Vicky, day after day, enquires Why she can't stay up to dinner too? and equally phenomenal number of times that I reply with unvarying formula that Six years old is too young, darling."
............
" ... Miss P., accompanied by two sheep-dogs and some leggy little boys.
"Little boys turn out to be nephews, paying a visit, and are told to go and make friends ....
November 18, 2021
1930s England. The setting mainly a village in Devon full of self important characters - the Vicar's wife for one and we have our very self effacing lady. Who would like to retort cleverly and smartly and never does and gets taken advantage of left, right and centre.
The stories are a collection of five pieces - each interesting and details the Provincial Lady's travels and pursuits from Russia to America to wartime England. There are trips back and forth home but the children are growing up fast and she though particularly sentimental over her children, has accepted the fact that they are now grown up. Her relationship with Robert is a bit sad - she loves him dearly, but he is typified as the usual stoic Englishman who is frightened to even
show the slightest bit of emotion or feelings - not a new age man definitely and I do so wish he could have been a bit warmer!
The stories are tailor made for an Anglophile - they may not appeal to all because they are old fashioned, the women somehow give in to the men at all levels whether husband, bosses, uncles or anyone around. But it is descriptive of the age in which they were set and the conditions of the time. The stories apart from describing the conditions, the characters of the times also depicts the domestic front which was in operation at the time. England's homes still had a cook, a maid and the change had not yet fully come.
I enjoyed reading it very much. Was just happy that Amazon put this out in a collection at such a reasonable price too.
The stories are a collection of five pieces - each interesting and details the Provincial Lady's travels and pursuits from Russia to America to wartime England. There are trips back and forth home but the children are growing up fast and she though particularly sentimental over her children, has accepted the fact that they are now grown up. Her relationship with Robert is a bit sad - she loves him dearly, but he is typified as the usual stoic Englishman who is frightened to even
show the slightest bit of emotion or feelings - not a new age man definitely and I do so wish he could have been a bit warmer!
The stories are tailor made for an Anglophile - they may not appeal to all because they are old fashioned, the women somehow give in to the men at all levels whether husband, bosses, uncles or anyone around. But it is descriptive of the age in which they were set and the conditions of the time. The stories apart from describing the conditions, the characters of the times also depicts the domestic front which was in operation at the time. England's homes still had a cook, a maid and the change had not yet fully come.
I enjoyed reading it very much. Was just happy that Amazon put this out in a collection at such a reasonable price too.
January 29, 2022
Read this compilation of all 5 Provincial Lady novels by E. M. Delafield as an ebook on Storytel, but I prefer my Kindle app for online reading - I’m used to it and find it more user-friendly.
The first book and probably the most famous of her works, The Diary of a Provincial Lady was a hoot! It had me chuckling often and on many occasions laughing out loud! The Lady in question has exactly my sense of humour - wry, sarcastic and self-deprecating 😌 Through her short, succinct, often tongue-in-cheek entries, we are treated to a slice of life in an English country village replete with the usual suspects - the vicar and his wife; Lady B - rich, snooty, self-proclaimed benefactress and consequently the bane of our Lady’s life; Mrs. B and Barbara - the long suffering mother and daughter duo, until Barbara is rescued by C. C through marriage and Mrs. B is left at Cousin Maud’s mercy 😀 In addition we have the Lady’s own family - Robin and Vicky her children and Roger her insufferable husband! I waited for him to redeem himself throughout the narrative or at least to develop the tiniest sense of humour - both of which tests he failed miserably😅 We also have a few friends - Rose, graceful, kind and living the good life - everything our Lady aspires to be while Cissie is awkward & troublesome. I loved the original illustrations by Arthur Watts and missed them in the later books.
While the first book introduces us to the cast of characters and daily life in an English village, the second and third books take our Lady out of her Devon village and into London and America! In The Provincial Lady Goes Further, she acquires a tiny flat in London and has misadventures there too! Although she’s managed to gain some little fame as an author she still struggles with her finances, her disastrous fashion sense or total lack thereof, her lovingly chaotic children, a taciturn husband, a high-strung though loyal French nanny, the infuriating Lady B and Cook - who reduces her to a stuttering wreck ever time😄😄😄 I laughed just as much, if not more than I did in the first book. Delafield has a way of stating the obvious with humour and irony and I lapped it up!
In the third novel, our Lady is in the States on a book tour and her descriptions of her sea voyage and the whirlwind book tour along with a million social and work-related engagements are once again hilariously accurate 😄 She vacillates between pride, joy, self-doubt and intense homesickness and I love how she documents her tendency to imagine disastrous fictional consequences of perfectly mundane events!
The Provincial lady in Russia is probably my least favourite of all the novels, because it’s dark and depressing and Delafield showcases the problems with Communism and her frustration with them. It’s also the only book not written in a diary format but in three short essays of her time in Moscow, Leningrad and Odessa. A lot of well directed sarcasm in this one.
In the last of the novels, published in 1940, Delafield takes us back to the village, on the cusp of WWII, when England has finally declared war on Germany. Our Lady moves to London to offer her services in the war effort and finds much to her dismay, that wanting to help and actually being able to help are two entirely different things altogether! Enjoyed her usual bumbling about in London as she and her little group of friends try their best to contribute to the war effort by mostly “Standing By”! Robert has grown on me through the series. I like a man of few words who isn’t always demonstrative but nevertheless loves his family deeply. I’ve been married to one such for 30+ years 😊 I wish there were illustrations in this one.
This compilation of novels is my first introduction to E. M. Delafield and I enjoyed her writing style, humour and characterisations. I’ve realised that I very much enjoy the wartime diary format that focuses on the routine life of average citizens and is told with large dollops of humour! The Diary of a Nobody & Henrietta’s War (there’s a very different Lady B in that one!), are two others which immediately spring to mind. I just finished Sally on the Rocks, set in an English village during WWI. It is also excellently written although there’s much more sadness and desperation, giving the setting.
This one set in the inter-war years, naturally has a lighter feel to it, although it’s by no means frivolous and tackles important themes, just in a more subtle manner. I love the Queries that the author includes in some entries - questions that are linked to current events in our Lady’s life or random thoughts in her mind; questions that make one think and that are relevant even in the 21st century. How little humanity has changed over time!
Some of my favourite Queries:
1. Cannot many of our moral lapses from Truth be frequently charged upon the tactless persistence of others?
2. Is not a common hate one of the strongest links in human nature? Answer, most regrettably, in the affirmative.
3. Curious and rather depressing, to see how frequently the pursuit of Good Works leads to apparently unavoidable duplicity.
4. Is not the inferiority complex, about which so much is written and spoken, nowadays shifting from the child to the parent?
I read this over the course of January and it brought me much joy and laughter and always managed to cheer me up when the books I was reading alongside disappointed. This was a delightful introduction to E. M. Delafield’s work and I’m keen to explore further.
Highly recommend this series 👍🏼
The first book and probably the most famous of her works, The Diary of a Provincial Lady was a hoot! It had me chuckling often and on many occasions laughing out loud! The Lady in question has exactly my sense of humour - wry, sarcastic and self-deprecating 😌 Through her short, succinct, often tongue-in-cheek entries, we are treated to a slice of life in an English country village replete with the usual suspects - the vicar and his wife; Lady B - rich, snooty, self-proclaimed benefactress and consequently the bane of our Lady’s life; Mrs. B and Barbara - the long suffering mother and daughter duo, until Barbara is rescued by C. C through marriage and Mrs. B is left at Cousin Maud’s mercy 😀 In addition we have the Lady’s own family - Robin and Vicky her children and Roger her insufferable husband! I waited for him to redeem himself throughout the narrative or at least to develop the tiniest sense of humour - both of which tests he failed miserably😅 We also have a few friends - Rose, graceful, kind and living the good life - everything our Lady aspires to be while Cissie is awkward & troublesome. I loved the original illustrations by Arthur Watts and missed them in the later books.
While the first book introduces us to the cast of characters and daily life in an English village, the second and third books take our Lady out of her Devon village and into London and America! In The Provincial Lady Goes Further, she acquires a tiny flat in London and has misadventures there too! Although she’s managed to gain some little fame as an author she still struggles with her finances, her disastrous fashion sense or total lack thereof, her lovingly chaotic children, a taciturn husband, a high-strung though loyal French nanny, the infuriating Lady B and Cook - who reduces her to a stuttering wreck ever time😄😄😄 I laughed just as much, if not more than I did in the first book. Delafield has a way of stating the obvious with humour and irony and I lapped it up!
In the third novel, our Lady is in the States on a book tour and her descriptions of her sea voyage and the whirlwind book tour along with a million social and work-related engagements are once again hilariously accurate 😄 She vacillates between pride, joy, self-doubt and intense homesickness and I love how she documents her tendency to imagine disastrous fictional consequences of perfectly mundane events!
The Provincial lady in Russia is probably my least favourite of all the novels, because it’s dark and depressing and Delafield showcases the problems with Communism and her frustration with them. It’s also the only book not written in a diary format but in three short essays of her time in Moscow, Leningrad and Odessa. A lot of well directed sarcasm in this one.
In the last of the novels, published in 1940, Delafield takes us back to the village, on the cusp of WWII, when England has finally declared war on Germany. Our Lady moves to London to offer her services in the war effort and finds much to her dismay, that wanting to help and actually being able to help are two entirely different things altogether! Enjoyed her usual bumbling about in London as she and her little group of friends try their best to contribute to the war effort by mostly “Standing By”! Robert has grown on me through the series. I like a man of few words who isn’t always demonstrative but nevertheless loves his family deeply. I’ve been married to one such for 30+ years 😊 I wish there were illustrations in this one.
This compilation of novels is my first introduction to E. M. Delafield and I enjoyed her writing style, humour and characterisations. I’ve realised that I very much enjoy the wartime diary format that focuses on the routine life of average citizens and is told with large dollops of humour! The Diary of a Nobody & Henrietta’s War (there’s a very different Lady B in that one!), are two others which immediately spring to mind. I just finished Sally on the Rocks, set in an English village during WWI. It is also excellently written although there’s much more sadness and desperation, giving the setting.
This one set in the inter-war years, naturally has a lighter feel to it, although it’s by no means frivolous and tackles important themes, just in a more subtle manner. I love the Queries that the author includes in some entries - questions that are linked to current events in our Lady’s life or random thoughts in her mind; questions that make one think and that are relevant even in the 21st century. How little humanity has changed over time!
Some of my favourite Queries:
1. Cannot many of our moral lapses from Truth be frequently charged upon the tactless persistence of others?
2. Is not a common hate one of the strongest links in human nature? Answer, most regrettably, in the affirmative.
3. Curious and rather depressing, to see how frequently the pursuit of Good Works leads to apparently unavoidable duplicity.
4. Is not the inferiority complex, about which so much is written and spoken, nowadays shifting from the child to the parent?
I read this over the course of January and it brought me much joy and laughter and always managed to cheer me up when the books I was reading alongside disappointed. This was a delightful introduction to E. M. Delafield’s work and I’m keen to explore further.
Highly recommend this series 👍🏼
December 24, 2020
First few paragraphs set the tone for a delightful, light, witty flight into this provincial world.
............
"Do I know, she asks, how very late it is for indoor bulbs? September, really, or even October, is the time. Do I know that the only really reliable firm for hyacinths is Somebody of Haarlem? Cannot catch the name of the firm, which is Dutch, but reply Yes, I do know, but think it my duty to buy Empire products. Feel at the time, and still think, that this is an excellent reply. Unfortunately Vicky comes into the drawing-room later and says: "O Mummie, are those the bulbs we got at Woolworths?"
"Lady B. stays to tea. (Mem.: Bread-and-butter too thick. Speak to Ethel.) We talk some more about bulbs, the Dutch School of Painting, our Vicar's wife, sciatica, and All Quiet on the Western Front.
"(Query: Is it possible to cultivate the art of conversation when living in the country all the year round?)"
"Do I realise, says Lady B., that the Cold Habit is entirely unnecessary, and can be avoided by giving the child a nasal douche of salt-and-water every morning before breakfast?
"Think of several rather tart and witty rejoinders to this, but unfortunately not until Lady B.'s Bentley has taken her away."
............
"Am asked what I think of Harriet Hume but am unable to say, as I have not read it. Have a depressed feeling that this is going to be another case of Orlando about which was perfectly able to talk most intelligently until I read it, and found myself unfortunately unable to understand any of it.
"Robert comes up very late and says he must have dropped asleep over the Times. (Query: Why come to Bournemouth to do this?)
"Postcard by the last post from Lady B. to ask if I have remembered that there is a Committee Meeting of the Women's Institute on the 14th. Should not dream of answering this."
............
"December 9th.—Rose staying here two days before going on to London. Says All American houses are Always Warm, which annoys Robert. He says in return that All American houses are Grossly Overheated and Entirely Airless. Impossible not to feel that this would carry more weight if Robert had ever been to America. Rose also very insistent about efficiency of American Telephone Service, and inclined to ask for glasses of cold water at breakfast time—which Robert does not approve of.
"Otherwise dear Rose entirely unchanged and offers to put me up in her West-End flat as often as I like to come to London. Accept gratefully. (N.B. How very different to old school-friend Cissie Crabbe, with bed-sitting-room and gas-ring in Norwich! But should not like to think myself in any way a snob.)
"On Rose's advice, bring bulb-bowls up from cellar and put them in drawing-room. Several of them perfectly visible, but somehow do not look entirely healthy. Rose thinks too much watering. If so, Cissie Crabbe entirely to blame. (Mem.: Either move bulb-bowls upstairs, or tell Ethel to show Lady Boxe into morning-room, if she calls. Cannot possibly enter into further discussion with her concerning bulbs.)"
............
"Very, very distinguished Novelist approaches me (having evidently mistaken me for someone else), and talks amiably. She says that she can only write between twelve at night and four in the morning, and not always then. When she cannot write, she plays the organ. Should much like to ask whether she is married—but get no opportunity of asking that or anything else. She tells me about her sales. She tells me about her last book. She tells me about her new one. She says that there are many people here to whom she must speak, and pursues well-known Poet—who does not, however, allow her to catch up with him. Can understand this."
Note the wit in not separating the last three word sentence from the paragraph until then!
"Move about after dinner, and meet acquaintance whose name I have forgotten, but connect with literature. I ask if he has published anything lately. He says that his work is not, and never can be, for publication. Thought passes through my mind to the effect that this attitude might with advantage be adopted by many others. Do not say so, however, and we talk instead about Rebecca West, the progress of aviation, and the case for and against stag-hunting."
"Cook says she hopes I enjoyed my holiday, and it is very quiet in the country. I leave the kitchen before she has time to say more, but am only too well aware that this is not the last of it.
"Write grateful letter to Rose, at the same time explaining difficulty of broadening my outlook by further time spent away from home, just at present."
............
"Go up to night-nursery and offer to read Lamb's Tales from Shakespeare. Vicky says she prefers Pip, Squeak, and Wilfred. Robin says that he would like Gulliver's Travels. Compromise on Grimm's Fairy Tales, although slightly uneasy as to their being in accordance with best modern ideals. Both children take immense interest in story of highly undesirable person who wins fortune, fame, and beautiful Princess by means of lies, violence, and treachery. Feel sure that this must have disastrous effect on both in years to come.
"Our Vicar's wife calls before Mademoiselle returns. ... "
"How, she says, are the dear children, and how is my husband? I reply suitably, and she tells me about cinnamon, Viapex, gargling with glycerine of thymnol, blackcurrant tea, onion broth, friar's balsam, linseed poultices, and thermogene wool. I sneeze and say Thank you—thank you very much, a good many times.. She goes, but turns back at the door to tell me about wool next the skin, nasal douching, and hot milk last thing at night. I say Thank you, again. On returning to night-nursery, find that Robin has unscrewed top of hot-water bottle in Vicky's bed, which apparently contained several hundred gallons of tepid water, now distributed through and through pillows, pyjamas, sheets, blankets, and mattresses of both. I ring for Ethel—who helps me to reorganise entire situation and says It's like a hospital, isn't it, trays up and down stairs all day long, and all this extra work."
............
"February 11th.—Robin writes again about cigarette-cards. I send him all those I have collected, and Vicky produces two which she has obtained from the garden-boy. Find that this quest grows upon one, and am apt now, when in Plymouth or any other town, to scan gutters, pavements, and tram-floors in search of Curious Beaks, Famous Football Players, and the like. Have even gone so far as to implore perfect stranger, sitting opposite me in train, not to throw cigarette-card out of the window, but give it to me instead. Perfect stranger does so with an air of courteous astonishment, and as he asks for no explanation, am obliged to leave him under the impression that I have merely been trying to force him into conversation with me."
............
" ... Past five o'clock before we are allowed to go in to tea, by which time am only too well aware that my face is blue and my hands purple. Lady B. asks me at tea how the children are, and adds, to the table at large, that I am "A Perfect Mother". Am naturally avoided, conversationally, after this, by everybody at the tea-table. Later on, Lady B. tells us about South of France. She quotes repartees made by herself in French, and then translates them.
"(Unavoidable Query presents itself here: Would a verdict of Justifiable Homicide delivered against their mother affect future careers of children unfavourably?)"
"Shall she, says Lady B., ring for my car? Refrain from replying that no amount of ringing will bring my car to the door all by itself, and say instead that I walked. Lady B. exclaims that this is Impossible, and that I am Too Marvellous, Altogether. Take my leave before she can add that I am such a Perfect Countrywoman, which I feel is coming next.
"Get home—still chilled to the bone owing to enforced detention at Hard Court—and tell Robert what I think of Lady B. ... "
"Say good-night to Vicky, looking angelic in bed, and ask what she is thinking about, lying there. She disconcertingly replies with briskness: "Oh, Kangaroos and things."
"(Note: The workings of the infant mind very, very difficult to follow, sometimes. Mothers by no means infallible.)"
............
"Start directly after lunch, Robert and Mary's husband appearing in a highly unnatural state of shiny smartness with a top-hat apiece. Effect of this splendour greatly mitigated, when they don the top-hats, by screams of unaffected amusement from both children. We drive off, leaving them leaning against Mademoiselle, apparently helpless with mirth.
"(Query: Is not the inferiority complex, about which so much is written and spoken, nowadays shifting from the child to the parent?)"
"I ask Robert, sentimentally, if this makes him think of our wedding. He looks surprised and says No, not particularly, why should it? As I cannot at the moment think of any particular reply to this, the question drops.
"Remove shoes with great thankfulness."
............
" ... However, says Mrs. Blenkinsop with a sad smile, it is never her way to dwell upon herself and her own troubles. She just sits there, day after day, always ready to sympathise in the little joys and troubles of others, and I would hardly believe how unfailingly these are brought to her. People say, she adds deprecatingly, that just her Smile does them good. She does not know, she says, what they mean. (Neither do I.)
"After this, there is a pause, and I feel that Mrs. B. is waiting for me to pour out my little joys and troubles. Perhaps she hopes that Robert has been unfaithful to me, or that I have fallen in love with the Vicar."
............
"March 28th.—Read admirable, but profoundly discouraging, article in Time and Tide relating to Bernard Shaw's women, but applying to most of us. Realise—not for the first time—that intelligent women can perhaps best perform their duty towards their own sex by devastating process of telling them the truth about themselves. At the same time, cannot feel that I shall really enjoy hearing it. ... Have very often wondered if Mothers are not rather A Mistake altogether, and now definitely come to the conclusion that they are.
"Interesting speculation as to how they might best be replaced interrupted by necessity of seeing that Fitzs. is turning out spare-bedroom according to instructions. Am unspeakably disgusted at finding him sitting in spare-room armchair, with feet on the window-sill. He says that he is "not feeling very well". Am much more taken aback than he is, and lose my head to the extent of replying: "Then go and be it in your own room." Realise afterwards that this might have been better worded."
............
"A letter from Lady B. saying that she has only just heard about measles—(Why only just, when news has been all over parish for weeks?) and is so sorry, especially as measles are no joke at my age—(Can she be in league with Doctor, who also used identical objectionable expression?).—She cannot come herself to enquire, as with so many visitors always coming and going it wouldn't be wise, but if I want anything from the House, I am to telephone without hesitation. She has given "her people" orders that anything I ask for is to be sent up. Have a very good mind to telephone and ask for a pound of tea and Lady B.'s pearl necklace—(Could Cleopatra be quoted as precedent here?)—and see what happens."
............
"July 18th, at Ste. Agathe.—Vicissitudes of travel very strange, and am struck—as often—by enormous dissimilarity between journeys undertaken in real life, and as reported in fiction. Can remember very few novels in which train journey of any kind does not involve either (a) Hectic encounter with member of opposite sex, leading to tense emotional issue; (b) discovery of murdered body in hideously battered condition, under circumstances which utterly defy detection; (c) elopement between two people each of whom is married to somebody else, culminating in severe disillusionment, or lofty renunciation."
"Make distressing discovery that there is no way of obtaining breakfast until train halts at Avignon. Break this information later to American young gentleman, who falls into deep distress and says that he does not know the French for grapefruit. Neither do I, but am able to inform him decisively that he will not require it.
"Train is late, and does not reach Avignon till nearly ten. American young gentleman has a severe panic, and assures me that if he leaves the train it will start without him. This happened once before at Davenport, Iowa. In order to avoid similar calamity, on this occasion, I offer to procure him a cup of coffee and two rolls, and successfully do so—but attend first to my own requirements. We all brighten after this, and Guguste announces his intention of shaving. His mother screams, and says, "Mais c'est fou" (But that’s crazy!) —with which I privately agree—and everybody else remonstrates with Guguste (except Dédé, who is wrapped in gloom), and points out that the train is rocking, and he will cut himself. The blue béret goes so far as to predict that he will decapitate himself, at which everybody screams.
"Guguste remains adamant, and produces shaving apparatus and a little mug, which is given to Dédé to hold. We sit around in great suspense, and Guguste is supported by one elbow by his mother, while he conducts operations to a conclusion which produces no perceptible change whatever in his appearance."
............
"Customary rather touching display of affection between Robin and Vicky much to the fore, and am sorry to feel that repeated experience of holidays has taught me not to count for one moment upon its lasting more than twenty-four hours—if that.
"(Query: Does motherhood lead to cynicism? This contrary to every convention of art, literature, or morality, but cannot altogether escape conviction that answer may be in the affirmative.)
"In spite of this, however, cannot remain quite unmoved on hearing Vicky inform Cook that when she marries, her husband will be exactly like Robin. Cook replies indulgently, That's right, but come out of that sauce-boat, there's a good girl, and what about Master Robin's wife? To which Robin rejoins, he doesn't suppose he'll be able to get a wife exactly like Vicky, as she's so good, there couldn't be another one."
............
"Vicky offended at not being included in what she evidently looks upon as nightly banquet of Lucullan magnificence, and covertly supported in this rebellious attitude by Mademoiselle. Am quite struck by extraordinary persistence with which Vicky, day after day, enquires Why she can't stay up to dinner too? and equally phenomenal number of times that I reply with unvarying formula that Six years old is too young, darling."
............
" ... Miss P., accompanied by two sheep-dogs and some leggy little boys.
"Little boys turn out to be nephews, paying a visit, and are told to go and make friends ....
Merged review:
First few paragraphs set the tone for a delightful, light, witty flight into this provincial world.
............
"Do I know, she asks, how very late it is for indoor bulbs? September, really, or even October, is the time. Do I know that the only really reliable firm for hyacinths is Somebody of Haarlem? Cannot catch the name of the firm, which is Dutch, but reply Yes, I do know, but think it my duty to buy Empire products. Feel at the time, and still think, that this is an excellent reply. Unfortunately Vicky comes into the drawing-room later and says: "O Mummie, are those the bulbs we got at Woolworths?"
"Lady B. stays to tea. (Mem.: Bread-and-butter too thick. Speak to Ethel.) We talk some more about bulbs, the Dutch School of Painting, our Vicar's wife, sciatica, and All Quiet on the Western Front.
"(Query: Is it possible to cultivate the art of conversation when living in the country all the year round?)"
"Do I realise, says Lady B., that the Cold Habit is entirely unnecessary, and can be avoided by giving the child a nasal douche of salt-and-water every morning before breakfast?
"Think of several rather tart and witty rejoinders to this, but unfortunately not until Lady B.'s Bentley has taken her away."
............
"Am asked what I think of Harriet Hume but am unable to say, as I have not read it. Have a depressed feeling that this is going to be another case of Orlando about which was perfectly able to talk most intelligently until I read it, and found myself unfortunately unable to understand any of it.
"Robert comes up very late and says he must have dropped asleep over the Times. (Query: Why come to Bournemouth to do this?)
"Postcard by the last post from Lady B. to ask if I have remembered that there is a Committee Meeting of the Women's Institute on the 14th. Should not dream of answering this."
............
"December 9th.—Rose staying here two days before going on to London. Says All American houses are Always Warm, which annoys Robert. He says in return that All American houses are Grossly Overheated and Entirely Airless. Impossible not to feel that this would carry more weight if Robert had ever been to America. Rose also very insistent about efficiency of American Telephone Service, and inclined to ask for glasses of cold water at breakfast time—which Robert does not approve of.
"Otherwise dear Rose entirely unchanged and offers to put me up in her West-End flat as often as I like to come to London. Accept gratefully. (N.B. How very different to old school-friend Cissie Crabbe, with bed-sitting-room and gas-ring in Norwich! But should not like to think myself in any way a snob.)
"On Rose's advice, bring bulb-bowls up from cellar and put them in drawing-room. Several of them perfectly visible, but somehow do not look entirely healthy. Rose thinks too much watering. If so, Cissie Crabbe entirely to blame. (Mem.: Either move bulb-bowls upstairs, or tell Ethel to show Lady Boxe into morning-room, if she calls. Cannot possibly enter into further discussion with her concerning bulbs.)"
............
"Very, very distinguished Novelist approaches me (having evidently mistaken me for someone else), and talks amiably. She says that she can only write between twelve at night and four in the morning, and not always then. When she cannot write, she plays the organ. Should much like to ask whether she is married—but get no opportunity of asking that or anything else. She tells me about her sales. She tells me about her last book. She tells me about her new one. She says that there are many people here to whom she must speak, and pursues well-known Poet—who does not, however, allow her to catch up with him. Can understand this."
Note the wit in not separating the last three word sentence from the paragraph until then!
"Move about after dinner, and meet acquaintance whose name I have forgotten, but connect with literature. I ask if he has published anything lately. He says that his work is not, and never can be, for publication. Thought passes through my mind to the effect that this attitude might with advantage be adopted by many others. Do not say so, however, and we talk instead about Rebecca West, the progress of aviation, and the case for and against stag-hunting."
"Cook says she hopes I enjoyed my holiday, and it is very quiet in the country. I leave the kitchen before she has time to say more, but am only too well aware that this is not the last of it.
"Write grateful letter to Rose, at the same time explaining difficulty of broadening my outlook by further time spent away from home, just at present."
............
"Go up to night-nursery and offer to read Lamb's Tales from Shakespeare. Vicky says she prefers Pip, Squeak, and Wilfred. Robin says that he would like Gulliver's Travels. Compromise on Grimm's Fairy Tales, although slig
............
"Do I know, she asks, how very late it is for indoor bulbs? September, really, or even October, is the time. Do I know that the only really reliable firm for hyacinths is Somebody of Haarlem? Cannot catch the name of the firm, which is Dutch, but reply Yes, I do know, but think it my duty to buy Empire products. Feel at the time, and still think, that this is an excellent reply. Unfortunately Vicky comes into the drawing-room later and says: "O Mummie, are those the bulbs we got at Woolworths?"
"Lady B. stays to tea. (Mem.: Bread-and-butter too thick. Speak to Ethel.) We talk some more about bulbs, the Dutch School of Painting, our Vicar's wife, sciatica, and All Quiet on the Western Front.
"(Query: Is it possible to cultivate the art of conversation when living in the country all the year round?)"
"Do I realise, says Lady B., that the Cold Habit is entirely unnecessary, and can be avoided by giving the child a nasal douche of salt-and-water every morning before breakfast?
"Think of several rather tart and witty rejoinders to this, but unfortunately not until Lady B.'s Bentley has taken her away."
............
"Am asked what I think of Harriet Hume but am unable to say, as I have not read it. Have a depressed feeling that this is going to be another case of Orlando about which was perfectly able to talk most intelligently until I read it, and found myself unfortunately unable to understand any of it.
"Robert comes up very late and says he must have dropped asleep over the Times. (Query: Why come to Bournemouth to do this?)
"Postcard by the last post from Lady B. to ask if I have remembered that there is a Committee Meeting of the Women's Institute on the 14th. Should not dream of answering this."
............
"December 9th.—Rose staying here two days before going on to London. Says All American houses are Always Warm, which annoys Robert. He says in return that All American houses are Grossly Overheated and Entirely Airless. Impossible not to feel that this would carry more weight if Robert had ever been to America. Rose also very insistent about efficiency of American Telephone Service, and inclined to ask for glasses of cold water at breakfast time—which Robert does not approve of.
"Otherwise dear Rose entirely unchanged and offers to put me up in her West-End flat as often as I like to come to London. Accept gratefully. (N.B. How very different to old school-friend Cissie Crabbe, with bed-sitting-room and gas-ring in Norwich! But should not like to think myself in any way a snob.)
"On Rose's advice, bring bulb-bowls up from cellar and put them in drawing-room. Several of them perfectly visible, but somehow do not look entirely healthy. Rose thinks too much watering. If so, Cissie Crabbe entirely to blame. (Mem.: Either move bulb-bowls upstairs, or tell Ethel to show Lady Boxe into morning-room, if she calls. Cannot possibly enter into further discussion with her concerning bulbs.)"
............
"Very, very distinguished Novelist approaches me (having evidently mistaken me for someone else), and talks amiably. She says that she can only write between twelve at night and four in the morning, and not always then. When she cannot write, she plays the organ. Should much like to ask whether she is married—but get no opportunity of asking that or anything else. She tells me about her sales. She tells me about her last book. She tells me about her new one. She says that there are many people here to whom she must speak, and pursues well-known Poet—who does not, however, allow her to catch up with him. Can understand this."
Note the wit in not separating the last three word sentence from the paragraph until then!
"Move about after dinner, and meet acquaintance whose name I have forgotten, but connect with literature. I ask if he has published anything lately. He says that his work is not, and never can be, for publication. Thought passes through my mind to the effect that this attitude might with advantage be adopted by many others. Do not say so, however, and we talk instead about Rebecca West, the progress of aviation, and the case for and against stag-hunting."
"Cook says she hopes I enjoyed my holiday, and it is very quiet in the country. I leave the kitchen before she has time to say more, but am only too well aware that this is not the last of it.
"Write grateful letter to Rose, at the same time explaining difficulty of broadening my outlook by further time spent away from home, just at present."
............
"Go up to night-nursery and offer to read Lamb's Tales from Shakespeare. Vicky says she prefers Pip, Squeak, and Wilfred. Robin says that he would like Gulliver's Travels. Compromise on Grimm's Fairy Tales, although slightly uneasy as to their being in accordance with best modern ideals. Both children take immense interest in story of highly undesirable person who wins fortune, fame, and beautiful Princess by means of lies, violence, and treachery. Feel sure that this must have disastrous effect on both in years to come.
"Our Vicar's wife calls before Mademoiselle returns. ... "
"How, she says, are the dear children, and how is my husband? I reply suitably, and she tells me about cinnamon, Viapex, gargling with glycerine of thymnol, blackcurrant tea, onion broth, friar's balsam, linseed poultices, and thermogene wool. I sneeze and say Thank you—thank you very much, a good many times.. She goes, but turns back at the door to tell me about wool next the skin, nasal douching, and hot milk last thing at night. I say Thank you, again. On returning to night-nursery, find that Robin has unscrewed top of hot-water bottle in Vicky's bed, which apparently contained several hundred gallons of tepid water, now distributed through and through pillows, pyjamas, sheets, blankets, and mattresses of both. I ring for Ethel—who helps me to reorganise entire situation and says It's like a hospital, isn't it, trays up and down stairs all day long, and all this extra work."
............
"February 11th.—Robin writes again about cigarette-cards. I send him all those I have collected, and Vicky produces two which she has obtained from the garden-boy. Find that this quest grows upon one, and am apt now, when in Plymouth or any other town, to scan gutters, pavements, and tram-floors in search of Curious Beaks, Famous Football Players, and the like. Have even gone so far as to implore perfect stranger, sitting opposite me in train, not to throw cigarette-card out of the window, but give it to me instead. Perfect stranger does so with an air of courteous astonishment, and as he asks for no explanation, am obliged to leave him under the impression that I have merely been trying to force him into conversation with me."
............
" ... Past five o'clock before we are allowed to go in to tea, by which time am only too well aware that my face is blue and my hands purple. Lady B. asks me at tea how the children are, and adds, to the table at large, that I am "A Perfect Mother". Am naturally avoided, conversationally, after this, by everybody at the tea-table. Later on, Lady B. tells us about South of France. She quotes repartees made by herself in French, and then translates them.
"(Unavoidable Query presents itself here: Would a verdict of Justifiable Homicide delivered against their mother affect future careers of children unfavourably?)"
"Shall she, says Lady B., ring for my car? Refrain from replying that no amount of ringing will bring my car to the door all by itself, and say instead that I walked. Lady B. exclaims that this is Impossible, and that I am Too Marvellous, Altogether. Take my leave before she can add that I am such a Perfect Countrywoman, which I feel is coming next.
"Get home—still chilled to the bone owing to enforced detention at Hard Court—and tell Robert what I think of Lady B. ... "
"Say good-night to Vicky, looking angelic in bed, and ask what she is thinking about, lying there. She disconcertingly replies with briskness: "Oh, Kangaroos and things."
"(Note: The workings of the infant mind very, very difficult to follow, sometimes. Mothers by no means infallible.)"
............
"Start directly after lunch, Robert and Mary's husband appearing in a highly unnatural state of shiny smartness with a top-hat apiece. Effect of this splendour greatly mitigated, when they don the top-hats, by screams of unaffected amusement from both children. We drive off, leaving them leaning against Mademoiselle, apparently helpless with mirth.
"(Query: Is not the inferiority complex, about which so much is written and spoken, nowadays shifting from the child to the parent?)"
"I ask Robert, sentimentally, if this makes him think of our wedding. He looks surprised and says No, not particularly, why should it? As I cannot at the moment think of any particular reply to this, the question drops.
"Remove shoes with great thankfulness."
............
" ... However, says Mrs. Blenkinsop with a sad smile, it is never her way to dwell upon herself and her own troubles. She just sits there, day after day, always ready to sympathise in the little joys and troubles of others, and I would hardly believe how unfailingly these are brought to her. People say, she adds deprecatingly, that just her Smile does them good. She does not know, she says, what they mean. (Neither do I.)
"After this, there is a pause, and I feel that Mrs. B. is waiting for me to pour out my little joys and troubles. Perhaps she hopes that Robert has been unfaithful to me, or that I have fallen in love with the Vicar."
............
"March 28th.—Read admirable, but profoundly discouraging, article in Time and Tide relating to Bernard Shaw's women, but applying to most of us. Realise—not for the first time—that intelligent women can perhaps best perform their duty towards their own sex by devastating process of telling them the truth about themselves. At the same time, cannot feel that I shall really enjoy hearing it. ... Have very often wondered if Mothers are not rather A Mistake altogether, and now definitely come to the conclusion that they are.
"Interesting speculation as to how they might best be replaced interrupted by necessity of seeing that Fitzs. is turning out spare-bedroom according to instructions. Am unspeakably disgusted at finding him sitting in spare-room armchair, with feet on the window-sill. He says that he is "not feeling very well". Am much more taken aback than he is, and lose my head to the extent of replying: "Then go and be it in your own room." Realise afterwards that this might have been better worded."
............
"A letter from Lady B. saying that she has only just heard about measles—(Why only just, when news has been all over parish for weeks?) and is so sorry, especially as measles are no joke at my age—(Can she be in league with Doctor, who also used identical objectionable expression?).—She cannot come herself to enquire, as with so many visitors always coming and going it wouldn't be wise, but if I want anything from the House, I am to telephone without hesitation. She has given "her people" orders that anything I ask for is to be sent up. Have a very good mind to telephone and ask for a pound of tea and Lady B.'s pearl necklace—(Could Cleopatra be quoted as precedent here?)—and see what happens."
............
"July 18th, at Ste. Agathe.—Vicissitudes of travel very strange, and am struck—as often—by enormous dissimilarity between journeys undertaken in real life, and as reported in fiction. Can remember very few novels in which train journey of any kind does not involve either (a) Hectic encounter with member of opposite sex, leading to tense emotional issue; (b) discovery of murdered body in hideously battered condition, under circumstances which utterly defy detection; (c) elopement between two people each of whom is married to somebody else, culminating in severe disillusionment, or lofty renunciation."
"Make distressing discovery that there is no way of obtaining breakfast until train halts at Avignon. Break this information later to American young gentleman, who falls into deep distress and says that he does not know the French for grapefruit. Neither do I, but am able to inform him decisively that he will not require it.
"Train is late, and does not reach Avignon till nearly ten. American young gentleman has a severe panic, and assures me that if he leaves the train it will start without him. This happened once before at Davenport, Iowa. In order to avoid similar calamity, on this occasion, I offer to procure him a cup of coffee and two rolls, and successfully do so—but attend first to my own requirements. We all brighten after this, and Guguste announces his intention of shaving. His mother screams, and says, "Mais c'est fou" (But that’s crazy!) —with which I privately agree—and everybody else remonstrates with Guguste (except Dédé, who is wrapped in gloom), and points out that the train is rocking, and he will cut himself. The blue béret goes so far as to predict that he will decapitate himself, at which everybody screams.
"Guguste remains adamant, and produces shaving apparatus and a little mug, which is given to Dédé to hold. We sit around in great suspense, and Guguste is supported by one elbow by his mother, while he conducts operations to a conclusion which produces no perceptible change whatever in his appearance."
............
"Customary rather touching display of affection between Robin and Vicky much to the fore, and am sorry to feel that repeated experience of holidays has taught me not to count for one moment upon its lasting more than twenty-four hours—if that.
"(Query: Does motherhood lead to cynicism? This contrary to every convention of art, literature, or morality, but cannot altogether escape conviction that answer may be in the affirmative.)
"In spite of this, however, cannot remain quite unmoved on hearing Vicky inform Cook that when she marries, her husband will be exactly like Robin. Cook replies indulgently, That's right, but come out of that sauce-boat, there's a good girl, and what about Master Robin's wife? To which Robin rejoins, he doesn't suppose he'll be able to get a wife exactly like Vicky, as she's so good, there couldn't be another one."
............
"Vicky offended at not being included in what she evidently looks upon as nightly banquet of Lucullan magnificence, and covertly supported in this rebellious attitude by Mademoiselle. Am quite struck by extraordinary persistence with which Vicky, day after day, enquires Why she can't stay up to dinner too? and equally phenomenal number of times that I reply with unvarying formula that Six years old is too young, darling."
............
" ... Miss P., accompanied by two sheep-dogs and some leggy little boys.
"Little boys turn out to be nephews, paying a visit, and are told to go and make friends ....
Merged review:
First few paragraphs set the tone for a delightful, light, witty flight into this provincial world.
............
"Do I know, she asks, how very late it is for indoor bulbs? September, really, or even October, is the time. Do I know that the only really reliable firm for hyacinths is Somebody of Haarlem? Cannot catch the name of the firm, which is Dutch, but reply Yes, I do know, but think it my duty to buy Empire products. Feel at the time, and still think, that this is an excellent reply. Unfortunately Vicky comes into the drawing-room later and says: "O Mummie, are those the bulbs we got at Woolworths?"
"Lady B. stays to tea. (Mem.: Bread-and-butter too thick. Speak to Ethel.) We talk some more about bulbs, the Dutch School of Painting, our Vicar's wife, sciatica, and All Quiet on the Western Front.
"(Query: Is it possible to cultivate the art of conversation when living in the country all the year round?)"
"Do I realise, says Lady B., that the Cold Habit is entirely unnecessary, and can be avoided by giving the child a nasal douche of salt-and-water every morning before breakfast?
"Think of several rather tart and witty rejoinders to this, but unfortunately not until Lady B.'s Bentley has taken her away."
............
"Am asked what I think of Harriet Hume but am unable to say, as I have not read it. Have a depressed feeling that this is going to be another case of Orlando about which was perfectly able to talk most intelligently until I read it, and found myself unfortunately unable to understand any of it.
"Robert comes up very late and says he must have dropped asleep over the Times. (Query: Why come to Bournemouth to do this?)
"Postcard by the last post from Lady B. to ask if I have remembered that there is a Committee Meeting of the Women's Institute on the 14th. Should not dream of answering this."
............
"December 9th.—Rose staying here two days before going on to London. Says All American houses are Always Warm, which annoys Robert. He says in return that All American houses are Grossly Overheated and Entirely Airless. Impossible not to feel that this would carry more weight if Robert had ever been to America. Rose also very insistent about efficiency of American Telephone Service, and inclined to ask for glasses of cold water at breakfast time—which Robert does not approve of.
"Otherwise dear Rose entirely unchanged and offers to put me up in her West-End flat as often as I like to come to London. Accept gratefully. (N.B. How very different to old school-friend Cissie Crabbe, with bed-sitting-room and gas-ring in Norwich! But should not like to think myself in any way a snob.)
"On Rose's advice, bring bulb-bowls up from cellar and put them in drawing-room. Several of them perfectly visible, but somehow do not look entirely healthy. Rose thinks too much watering. If so, Cissie Crabbe entirely to blame. (Mem.: Either move bulb-bowls upstairs, or tell Ethel to show Lady Boxe into morning-room, if she calls. Cannot possibly enter into further discussion with her concerning bulbs.)"
............
"Very, very distinguished Novelist approaches me (having evidently mistaken me for someone else), and talks amiably. She says that she can only write between twelve at night and four in the morning, and not always then. When she cannot write, she plays the organ. Should much like to ask whether she is married—but get no opportunity of asking that or anything else. She tells me about her sales. She tells me about her last book. She tells me about her new one. She says that there are many people here to whom she must speak, and pursues well-known Poet—who does not, however, allow her to catch up with him. Can understand this."
Note the wit in not separating the last three word sentence from the paragraph until then!
"Move about after dinner, and meet acquaintance whose name I have forgotten, but connect with literature. I ask if he has published anything lately. He says that his work is not, and never can be, for publication. Thought passes through my mind to the effect that this attitude might with advantage be adopted by many others. Do not say so, however, and we talk instead about Rebecca West, the progress of aviation, and the case for and against stag-hunting."
"Cook says she hopes I enjoyed my holiday, and it is very quiet in the country. I leave the kitchen before she has time to say more, but am only too well aware that this is not the last of it.
"Write grateful letter to Rose, at the same time explaining difficulty of broadening my outlook by further time spent away from home, just at present."
............
"Go up to night-nursery and offer to read Lamb's Tales from Shakespeare. Vicky says she prefers Pip, Squeak, and Wilfred. Robin says that he would like Gulliver's Travels. Compromise on Grimm's Fairy Tales, although slig
February 1, 2023
How can anyone presume to "review", and on Goodreads of all platforms, a classic like EM Delafield's 'Diary of a Provincial Lady'?
Certainly not I. Just a hint: I borrowed this volume of all five 'Provincial Lady' novels in one book. This was ill-advised. Each book is meant to be savoured separately and leisurely, not rushed through against a return date.
This picture of a harrassed upper class housewife struggling with her accounts, children, husband, Mademoiselle, gardener, Vicar's wife, schoolfriends, county ladies, Cook, the butcher, the Laundry, the Bank, is one of the most brilliant, of a gentle lady rebelling fiercely into her diary, with remarks like ("N.B. Dear Robin perhaps not so utterly unlike his father as one is tempted to suppose") about her pre-teen son, or her sly digs at herself as much as at anyone else.
Certainly not I. Just a hint: I borrowed this volume of all five 'Provincial Lady' novels in one book. This was ill-advised. Each book is meant to be savoured separately and leisurely, not rushed through against a return date.
This picture of a harrassed upper class housewife struggling with her accounts, children, husband, Mademoiselle, gardener, Vicar's wife, schoolfriends, county ladies, Cook, the butcher, the Laundry, the Bank, is one of the most brilliant, of a gentle lady rebelling fiercely into her diary, with remarks like ("N.B. Dear Robin perhaps not so utterly unlike his father as one is tempted to suppose") about her pre-teen son, or her sly digs at herself as much as at anyone else.
December 5, 2024
I read a different edition: a compendium of four: The Diary of a Provincial Lady, The Provincial Lady Goes Further, The Provincial Lady in America, and The Provincial Lady in Wartime.
I found them much more engaging than the title would suggest. Constantly juggling a host of domestic and other dilemmas, with a grumpy husband who rarely speaks, two children and a petulant cook, the Lady in question chronicles her life with great wit. I flagged a little when she went ‘Further’, thinking can I really take 550 pages of this? But America and Wartime each engrossed me, the second an eyeopener on how women began to step free of housewifery and look for war work in 1939. Three stars overall, but four stars for ‘in Wartime’.
I found them much more engaging than the title would suggest. Constantly juggling a host of domestic and other dilemmas, with a grumpy husband who rarely speaks, two children and a petulant cook, the Lady in question chronicles her life with great wit. I flagged a little when she went ‘Further’, thinking can I really take 550 pages of this? But America and Wartime each engrossed me, the second an eyeopener on how women began to step free of housewifery and look for war work in 1939. Three stars overall, but four stars for ‘in Wartime’.
February 28, 2025
I enjoyed this audiobook, although very long with the complete set of her novels! It was humorous and as other reviewers said, remarkable how fresh and current it feels. This makes it easier to relate to her as a character even living in such a different time. Like an early 20th Century Bridget Jones! I particularly enjoyed the final instalment as she entered the start of the Second World War.
November 18, 2025
I really enjoyed the whole series... although the last two rather less than the first two... probably because the cast of these two was so much bigger, that it was less possible to get to know any of them well.
April 30, 2018
Loved these very proper books. I collect old books and thoroughly enjoy them. A window into another time
January 11, 2020
Amazing books
Really enjoyed these. Sad when I read the last page. Will be reading more books by the author. Excellently presented on Kindle although a few typos
Really enjoyed these. Sad when I read the last page. Will be reading more books by the author. Excellently presented on Kindle although a few typos
Currently reading
February 7, 2020I read the first collection, "The Diary of a Provincial Lady", with a group in 2015, but have not continued with the rest.
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
October 31, 2020
I don't like diaries. So why could I not put this one down?
Answer? It seems that whether I like a diary or not is based on similiar lines to the liking of a book -
Criteria - is it interesting? Yes; is it well written? Yes; is the language and grammar good? Very; Did I enjoy it? Oh, yes; did I have difficulty putting it down? Yes; would I like to read more by this author? Yes, definitely.
Good book - I like some diaries!
Answer? It seems that whether I like a diary or not is based on similiar lines to the liking of a book -
Criteria - is it interesting? Yes; is it well written? Yes; is the language and grammar good? Very; Did I enjoy it? Oh, yes; did I have difficulty putting it down? Yes; would I like to read more by this author? Yes, definitely.
Good book - I like some diaries!
March 14, 2022
Fun to dip into now and again. Yes, these are provincial stories, but they do entertain.
part-read-books
October 18, 2016Taking a short break before reading next in series.
February 13, 2017
I don't know why none of my friends have heard of this. I don't know why I only heard of it when I was twelve, and only then because I happened to find it on my grandmother's shelf. It's almost the only novel I still have from that age. It's scrappy and identifiable, and the narrator's growing streak of independence is more than satisfying, inspiring in a very believable, run-of-the-mill way. It's a joy.
August 26, 2015
I thoroughly enjoyed these amusing, witty reflections on life and human behavior, thoughts and reactions to daily situations. I did not get tired of reading the same style in each novel; this was a dairy so I expected each book to be written in similar fashion. The flaws and foibles of friends, relatives, and frenemies were entertaining throughout--especially when the diary writer pointed out her own shortcomings more than anyone else's.
December 2, 2014
I first read this collection maybe 30 years ago, and on this re-reading most of it (except maybe the book on Russia, which, even for the era, is preachy) holds up rather well. But maybe that's just because I've been in a Mitford/Waugh/E.F. Benson mood lately. Happily, the comic exasperations of Delafield's lady, still charm.
December 25, 2015
This book is really 5 books. The first three books were 5 stars, the fourth book was 4 stars, and the fifth book was maybe three stars. I love the author's slightly snarky inner voice, especially in the first three books where she is the mother of small children and trying to run her house while starting her writing career.
October 31, 2016
Frothy delight
Lovely shimmer of posh Britain between the wars succeeds entirely due to the sympathetic nature of our heroine. Especially the first two books contain several laugh out loud moments. Chick lit of a very high order, if you can get beyond the 'servant question', and other non pc and rather objectionable subjects.
Lovely shimmer of posh Britain between the wars succeeds entirely due to the sympathetic nature of our heroine. Especially the first two books contain several laugh out loud moments. Chick lit of a very high order, if you can get beyond the 'servant question', and other non pc and rather objectionable subjects.
April 15, 2017
This has become one of my fave books. Funny, charming and a great glimpse into pre-war English life. I highly recommend!
September 16, 2017
Very clever, quite witty. She's a good writer.
Displaying 1 - 22 of 22 reviews