The post shows up four or five times a day, envelopes served on platters by noiseless houseboys. Grand motorcars glide along quiet streets. Just round the corner from the Forbidden City, the noise and dust settles, and it's rubbers of bridge in the British Legation, clinking cocktail shakers and roundabout references to the murderous t'ai-pings just outside the city gates.
Ms Bridge gives us the full Empire On Parade, complete with a jolly little outing that will take our ensemble cast up-country for what's called a picnic. In the event it involves hampers of appetizers and liquor, carried on ahead by mules, with camp-beds and linens, whilst the main party struggles forward riding in estate cars and aboard ferries. It's the familiar gathering of military and embassy, love-crossed youth and wiser elders, the odd American authoress and Cambridge don, you know the drill. Their destination is the rambling and otherworldly Chinese Temple city situated against rolling Asian hills. Where half the way into a pretty standard, cocktail-drenched weekend of dalliances and sunset strolls, the t'ai pings attack.
If this begins to sound a little familiar, it certainly is. Basically we have A Passage To India in 3os China, which merges and morphs with bits of Wings Of The Dove and Up At The Villa, depending on where you look in. But it doesn't feel formula or boilerplate; there is a certain leeway in using the colonial setting, in that the British Empire covered the whole known world at certain points, and every kind of narrative can be stitched into the scenery.
Bridge creates a fascinating heroine here in her older-woman head of household Laura Leroy, who centers the story and gently draws out the other characters as she goes. (Oh and by the way, it's about 37 years that gets you the 'older woman' niche in this 3os drama.) Self-disparaging but nervy and empowering, as the only Chinese-speaker and quickest on-the-draw, Laura is the spine of the novel, and suffers no fucking around once the going gets dodgy.
Nothing is too surprising if you've been on this sort of picnic before, but Bridge has done a nice little bait-and-switch. By giving us a novel of character dressed in period-travel clothing, an insightful outing where a lesser author would have gone strictly for the t'ai-ping-at-the-gate theatrics... we're in Forster or Maugham territory, which is intricate and nuanced.