What do you think?
Rate this book
Period Piece
Period Piece is the classic memoir of a Cambridge childhood, written by Charles Darwin's granddaughter. It evokes a time when long summer days were disturbed by nothing noisier than a horse, and long winter nights were lit only by candle or gas lamp. It is a shrewd, touching and comic portrait of eccentric relations, and of Cambridge society when it was small enough to be treated as an extension of the family. As a young girl Gwen thought it impossible that she could ever succeed as an artist, and yet the observations of the small incidents of life, recorded here in delightful prose and beautiful illustrations, reveal an artist's careful eye.
288 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1952
22 people are currently reading
1167 people want to read
About the author
Gwen Raverat
24 books5 followersGwen Mary Darwin was born in Cambridge in 1885; she was the daughter of Sir George Howard Darwin and his wife Maud, Lady Darwin, née Maud du Puy. She was the granddaughter of the naturalist Charles Darwin and first cousin of the poet Frances Cornford, née Darwin.
She married the French painter Jacques Raverat in 1911. They were active in the Bloomsbury Group and Rupert Brooke's Neo-Pagan group until they moved to the south of France, where they lived in Vence, near Nice, until his death from multiple sclerosis in 1925. They had two daughters: Elisabeth (1916-2014), who married the Norwegian politician Edvard Hambro, and Sophie Jane (1919-2011), who married the Cambridge scholar M.G.M. Pryor and later Charles Gurney.
Raverat is buried in the Trumpington Extension Cemetery, Cambridge with her father. Her mother, Maud, Lady Darwin, was cremated at Cambridge Crematorium on 10 February 1947. There is a memorial to Raverat in Harlton Church, Cambridgeshire, where her family and friends donated towards the restoration of the church in her memory.
Cambridge and the people associated with it remained very much the centre of her life. Darwin College, Cambridge, occupies both her childhood home, Newnham Grange, and the neighbouring Old Granary where she lived from 1946 until her death. The college has named one of its student accommodation houses after her.
She married the French painter Jacques Raverat in 1911. They were active in the Bloomsbury Group and Rupert Brooke's Neo-Pagan group until they moved to the south of France, where they lived in Vence, near Nice, until his death from multiple sclerosis in 1925. They had two daughters: Elisabeth (1916-2014), who married the Norwegian politician Edvard Hambro, and Sophie Jane (1919-2011), who married the Cambridge scholar M.G.M. Pryor and later Charles Gurney.
Raverat is buried in the Trumpington Extension Cemetery, Cambridge with her father. Her mother, Maud, Lady Darwin, was cremated at Cambridge Crematorium on 10 February 1947. There is a memorial to Raverat in Harlton Church, Cambridgeshire, where her family and friends donated towards the restoration of the church in her memory.
Cambridge and the people associated with it remained very much the centre of her life. Darwin College, Cambridge, occupies both her childhood home, Newnham Grange, and the neighbouring Old Granary where she lived from 1946 until her death. The college has named one of its student accommodation houses after her.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 122 reviews
July 6, 2019
This is a memoir of a Cambridge childhood in the 1890s and early 1900s. Gwen Raverat was an artist and wood engraver and also a granddaughter of Charles Darwin. Much of this memoir recalls her large and eccentric family, especially her many aunts and uncles and her mother’s rather odd ideas about parenting. All the art work in the book is done by Raverat. The memoir is themed, so each chapter covers a different topic: Education, propriety, childhood fears, religion, clothes, uncles and aunts, theories, Newnham Grange (the family home), Down House (the Darwin family home), sports, society, ladies and a chapter about her mother’s early life. Raverat writes with humour and a sharp wit:
“The first religious experience that I can remember is getting under the nursery table to pray that the dancing mistress might be dead before we got to the Dancing Class.”
Her upbringing was not that of a conventional late Victorian child, as she found out at school:
“Not that I wanted to leave school; I wanted to stay on, if only I could manage to bear it; for I was very curious about the extraordinary habits of the girls. For instance, that first day, they were all singing: 'I am the Honeysuckle, You are the Bee.' Why? What on earth was it? (I had never heard a popular song in my life.) And they were all busy making hat-pin knobs out of coloured sealing-wax. Now why in the world did they like doing that? Nearly everything they did mystified me.”
Raverat’s mother was American and had strong views about bringing up children who were independent, but there were plenty of relatives and cousins and of course the shadow of Charles Darwin:
“My grandfather said once: ‘I have five sons, and I have never had to worry about any one of them.’ Well, that is not quite right. One ought to have to worry sometimes about young people, because they ought to be growing out in new ways and experimenting for themselves. But my grandfather was so tolerant of their separate individualities, so broad-minded, that there was no need for his sons to break away from him; and they lived all their lives in his shadow.”
The account mixes affection with sharp observation, some ridicule and clarity. It was a privileged upbringing, upper middle-class and the deprivations of the commonality of humanity are mostly absent.
There are lots of points of interest. Within the current debates about trans issues I often hear arguments about this being a new or modern thing. It isn’t, here is Raverat talking about her feelings as a child:
“Of course I wanted still more, more than anything in the world, to be a man. Then I might be a really good painter. A woman had not much chance of that. I wanted so much to be a boy that I did not dare to think about it at all, for it made me feel quite desperate to know that it was impossible to be one. But I always dreamt I was a boy. If the truth must be told, still now, in my dreams at night, I am generally a young man!”
Another point of interest is the subject of eugenics. Raverat’s uncle Lenny was president of a Eugenics society:
“Uncle Lenny used to shock me when, in talking about Eugenics, he maintained that a money standard was the only possible criterion in deciding which human stocks should be encouraged to breed”
This is a selective memoir though. There is no mention of her brother Lenny who died when Raverat was fourteen, nor of her nanny who died from cancer. There is a certain level of censorship here and a good deal of privilege. There are anecdotes and amusements, but the backdrop is a rather enclosed society, cut off from the life of much of society.
The chapter on clothes is interesting, as is Raverat’s description of sharing a room:
“This is what a young lady wore, with whom I shared a room one night – beginning at the bottom, or scratch:
1) Thick, long-legged, long-sleeved woollen combinations
2) Over them, white cotton combinations with plenty of buttons and frills
3) Very serious, bony grey stays, with suspenders
4) Black woollen stockings
5) White cotton drawers, with buttons and frills
6) White cotton “petticoat-bodice”, with buttons and frills
7) Rather short, white flannel petticoat
8) Long Alpaca petticoat, with a flounce round the bottom
9) Pink flannel blouse
10) High, starched, white collar, fastened with studs
11) Navy blue tie
12) Blue skirt, touching the ground, and fastened tightly to the blouse with a safety-pin behind
13) Leather belt, very tight
14) High button boots. “
There’s not much to say after that! There are some interesting insights into quite a narrow life and it is illuminating.
“The first religious experience that I can remember is getting under the nursery table to pray that the dancing mistress might be dead before we got to the Dancing Class.”
Her upbringing was not that of a conventional late Victorian child, as she found out at school:
“Not that I wanted to leave school; I wanted to stay on, if only I could manage to bear it; for I was very curious about the extraordinary habits of the girls. For instance, that first day, they were all singing: 'I am the Honeysuckle, You are the Bee.' Why? What on earth was it? (I had never heard a popular song in my life.) And they were all busy making hat-pin knobs out of coloured sealing-wax. Now why in the world did they like doing that? Nearly everything they did mystified me.”
Raverat’s mother was American and had strong views about bringing up children who were independent, but there were plenty of relatives and cousins and of course the shadow of Charles Darwin:
“My grandfather said once: ‘I have five sons, and I have never had to worry about any one of them.’ Well, that is not quite right. One ought to have to worry sometimes about young people, because they ought to be growing out in new ways and experimenting for themselves. But my grandfather was so tolerant of their separate individualities, so broad-minded, that there was no need for his sons to break away from him; and they lived all their lives in his shadow.”
The account mixes affection with sharp observation, some ridicule and clarity. It was a privileged upbringing, upper middle-class and the deprivations of the commonality of humanity are mostly absent.
There are lots of points of interest. Within the current debates about trans issues I often hear arguments about this being a new or modern thing. It isn’t, here is Raverat talking about her feelings as a child:
“Of course I wanted still more, more than anything in the world, to be a man. Then I might be a really good painter. A woman had not much chance of that. I wanted so much to be a boy that I did not dare to think about it at all, for it made me feel quite desperate to know that it was impossible to be one. But I always dreamt I was a boy. If the truth must be told, still now, in my dreams at night, I am generally a young man!”
Another point of interest is the subject of eugenics. Raverat’s uncle Lenny was president of a Eugenics society:
“Uncle Lenny used to shock me when, in talking about Eugenics, he maintained that a money standard was the only possible criterion in deciding which human stocks should be encouraged to breed”
This is a selective memoir though. There is no mention of her brother Lenny who died when Raverat was fourteen, nor of her nanny who died from cancer. There is a certain level of censorship here and a good deal of privilege. There are anecdotes and amusements, but the backdrop is a rather enclosed society, cut off from the life of much of society.
The chapter on clothes is interesting, as is Raverat’s description of sharing a room:
“This is what a young lady wore, with whom I shared a room one night – beginning at the bottom, or scratch:
1) Thick, long-legged, long-sleeved woollen combinations
2) Over them, white cotton combinations with plenty of buttons and frills
3) Very serious, bony grey stays, with suspenders
4) Black woollen stockings
5) White cotton drawers, with buttons and frills
6) White cotton “petticoat-bodice”, with buttons and frills
7) Rather short, white flannel petticoat
8) Long Alpaca petticoat, with a flounce round the bottom
9) Pink flannel blouse
10) High, starched, white collar, fastened with studs
11) Navy blue tie
12) Blue skirt, touching the ground, and fastened tightly to the blouse with a safety-pin behind
13) Leather belt, very tight
14) High button boots. “
There’s not much to say after that! There are some interesting insights into quite a narrow life and it is illuminating.
February 20, 2020
Raverat was a granddaughter of Charles Darwin (the first child of his son George) but never got to meet him as he died three years before her birth. Her book has the subtitle “A Cambridge Childhood,” which perfectly conveys the aim. This is not a comprehensive family history or autobiography, but a portrait of what it was like to grow up in a particular time and place. Raverat was born in 1885, but she begins two years earlier, when her American mother, Maud Du Puy, was 21 and in England for the first time to spend a summer with her great-aunt and -uncle. She had three suitors during that time, all of them Fellows of Trinity College. The rules had only just been changed to allow Fellows to marry, so George Darwin would be among the first married members, and Gwen was in the first batch of offspring.
Period Piece is a charming, witty look at daily life from the 1880s through about 1909 – ending with the marriage of her cousin Frances, which seemed to signal a definitive end to their collective youth. Raverat focuses on everyday sights and sounds but also points out life’s little absurdities. She proceeds thematically rather than chronologically, taking up topics like her mother’s parenting theories; her boarding school education and budding love of art; visits to Grandmamma at Down House, Kent; childhood fears and ghost stories; the five Darwin uncles; religion; sports and games; clothing; and social events such as dances.
Writing towards the end of her life and in the middle of the twentieth century, Raverat neatly draws contrasts between old-fashioned propriety and modern mores. For example, as a child she was often called upon to act as a chaperone to courting couples, and when ladies boated past a watering hole where boys swam naked, they would cover their faces with parasols. She herself managed to avoid the matter of sex entirely until she was an adult, though she does remember looking to an encyclopedia to find out where babies come from.
The utter reliance on servants, a profusion of buttons on every garment, and forced trips to church are a few elements that might strike today’s readers as alien. One incident felt eerily contemporary to me, though: once, walking home alone at around 10 p.m., Gwen saw a gang of dodgy-looking undergraduates carrying a drunk or dead young woman down the street and into a pub. After much internal debate, she decided not to say a word about it to her parents.
I often wonder how novelists and filmmakers get a historical setting just right. The answer is, probably by reading books like this one that so clearly convey quotidian details most people would leave out, e.g. a list of every piece of clothing a lady wore or a rundown of the steps to getting her mother out the door to catch the 8:30 train for a day out in London. Those who have visited or lived in Cambridge will no doubt enjoy spotting familiar locations. There are also amusing cameo appearances from Virginia Stephen (Woolf) and E.M. Forster.
Raverat, a wood engraver, peppered Period Piece with her own illustrations – a lovely supplement to the highly visual text. Not just an invaluable record of domestic history, this is a very funny and impressively thorough memoir that could be used by anyone as a model for how to capture childhood. It has never been out of print, and still deserves to be widely read.
Some favorite lines:
(describing one of her mother’s early letters home to America) “They got [rooms for the night] at last at ‘the St Pancreas Hotel’. I was delighted to find this spelling so early, as, to the end of her days, my mother always considered the saint and the internal organ as identical.”
(of their French nurserymaids) “By a provision of Providence they were always called Eugenie, so that when a new one came she could be called Newgenie.”
“The faint flavour of the ghost of my grandfather hung in a friendly way about the whole place [Down] – house, garden and all. … In fact, he was obviously in the same category as God and Father Christmas.”
Period Piece is a charming, witty look at daily life from the 1880s through about 1909 – ending with the marriage of her cousin Frances, which seemed to signal a definitive end to their collective youth. Raverat focuses on everyday sights and sounds but also points out life’s little absurdities. She proceeds thematically rather than chronologically, taking up topics like her mother’s parenting theories; her boarding school education and budding love of art; visits to Grandmamma at Down House, Kent; childhood fears and ghost stories; the five Darwin uncles; religion; sports and games; clothing; and social events such as dances.
Writing towards the end of her life and in the middle of the twentieth century, Raverat neatly draws contrasts between old-fashioned propriety and modern mores. For example, as a child she was often called upon to act as a chaperone to courting couples, and when ladies boated past a watering hole where boys swam naked, they would cover their faces with parasols. She herself managed to avoid the matter of sex entirely until she was an adult, though she does remember looking to an encyclopedia to find out where babies come from.
The utter reliance on servants, a profusion of buttons on every garment, and forced trips to church are a few elements that might strike today’s readers as alien. One incident felt eerily contemporary to me, though: once, walking home alone at around 10 p.m., Gwen saw a gang of dodgy-looking undergraduates carrying a drunk or dead young woman down the street and into a pub. After much internal debate, she decided not to say a word about it to her parents.
I often wonder how novelists and filmmakers get a historical setting just right. The answer is, probably by reading books like this one that so clearly convey quotidian details most people would leave out, e.g. a list of every piece of clothing a lady wore or a rundown of the steps to getting her mother out the door to catch the 8:30 train for a day out in London. Those who have visited or lived in Cambridge will no doubt enjoy spotting familiar locations. There are also amusing cameo appearances from Virginia Stephen (Woolf) and E.M. Forster.
Raverat, a wood engraver, peppered Period Piece with her own illustrations – a lovely supplement to the highly visual text. Not just an invaluable record of domestic history, this is a very funny and impressively thorough memoir that could be used by anyone as a model for how to capture childhood. It has never been out of print, and still deserves to be widely read.
Some favorite lines:
(describing one of her mother’s early letters home to America) “They got [rooms for the night] at last at ‘the St Pancreas Hotel’. I was delighted to find this spelling so early, as, to the end of her days, my mother always considered the saint and the internal organ as identical.”
(of their French nurserymaids) “By a provision of Providence they were always called Eugenie, so that when a new one came she could be called Newgenie.”
“The faint flavour of the ghost of my grandfather hung in a friendly way about the whole place [Down] – house, garden and all. … In fact, he was obviously in the same category as God and Father Christmas.”
August 30, 2014
This was the third time I’ve read this fabulous book, and it gets better and better with each reading.
Gwen Raverat was Charles Darwin’s granddaughter, living an idyllic and rather crazy Victorian childhood in the bliss that is Cambridge, with a lot of her family around her.
She was an out and out tomboy, resenting all trappings of feminity – the clothes, the dancing classes, the chaperoning duties - and relishing instead all the wonderful opportunities for adventure provided by enthusiastic siblings.... and the rambling house, garden and river that was their home territory. She loved her eccentric and academic family uncritically, and writes about them with warmth and admiration.
Reverat is a very funny writer. Sometimes laugh out loud funny, but most often just a delicious underpinning of humour. Her book is full of the mores of the day, and she give fascinating insights into what life was like in a late Victorian upper class household.
“The regular round of formal dinner-parties was very important in Cambridge. In our house the parties were general of twelve or fourteen people, and everybody of dinner-party status was invited strictly in turn. The guests were seated accordingly to the Protocol, the Heads of Houses ranking by the dates of the foundations of their collages, except that the Vice-Chancellor would come first of all. After the Masters came the Regius Professors in the order of their subjects, Divinity first; and then the other Professors according to the dates of the foundations of their chairs, and so on down all the steps of the hierarchy....”
Tomboy or not, the restrictions of the clothes they had to wear sounds horrendous.
“The thought of the discomfort, restraint and pain which we had to endure from our clothes, makes me even angrier now than it did then.... By the time I was eighteen my skirt came right down to the ground... They inevitably swept the roads, however carefully I might hold them up behind; and the roads were then much muddier than the tarred roads are now. Afterwards the crusted mud had to be brushed off, which might take an hour or more to do....”
The negatives did not end there - the rest of her apparel was uncomfortable, hot and cumbersome.
Outside her family, Reverat was not sociable... Whilst she hated parties, she hated her dreaded dancing classes even more.
“At a Party you can often manage to spend part of the time under the stairs, or behind the window curtains, or in the lavatory; and you are hardly ever obliged to prance about in public; whereas, at Dancing Class, there is never any cover at all.”
Her life at home with her family though was utterly idyllic. The freedom the children were allowed is almost unimaginable in our time of hygiene, health and safety, and they were obviously deeply loved by both their parents - and by their aunts and uncles and cousins – all of whom are written about with great affection.
This book is really enchanting. Highly recommended.
Gwen Raverat was Charles Darwin’s granddaughter, living an idyllic and rather crazy Victorian childhood in the bliss that is Cambridge, with a lot of her family around her.
She was an out and out tomboy, resenting all trappings of feminity – the clothes, the dancing classes, the chaperoning duties - and relishing instead all the wonderful opportunities for adventure provided by enthusiastic siblings.... and the rambling house, garden and river that was their home territory. She loved her eccentric and academic family uncritically, and writes about them with warmth and admiration.
Reverat is a very funny writer. Sometimes laugh out loud funny, but most often just a delicious underpinning of humour. Her book is full of the mores of the day, and she give fascinating insights into what life was like in a late Victorian upper class household.
“The regular round of formal dinner-parties was very important in Cambridge. In our house the parties were general of twelve or fourteen people, and everybody of dinner-party status was invited strictly in turn. The guests were seated accordingly to the Protocol, the Heads of Houses ranking by the dates of the foundations of their collages, except that the Vice-Chancellor would come first of all. After the Masters came the Regius Professors in the order of their subjects, Divinity first; and then the other Professors according to the dates of the foundations of their chairs, and so on down all the steps of the hierarchy....”
Tomboy or not, the restrictions of the clothes they had to wear sounds horrendous.
“The thought of the discomfort, restraint and pain which we had to endure from our clothes, makes me even angrier now than it did then.... By the time I was eighteen my skirt came right down to the ground... They inevitably swept the roads, however carefully I might hold them up behind; and the roads were then much muddier than the tarred roads are now. Afterwards the crusted mud had to be brushed off, which might take an hour or more to do....”
The negatives did not end there - the rest of her apparel was uncomfortable, hot and cumbersome.
Outside her family, Reverat was not sociable... Whilst she hated parties, she hated her dreaded dancing classes even more.
“At a Party you can often manage to spend part of the time under the stairs, or behind the window curtains, or in the lavatory; and you are hardly ever obliged to prance about in public; whereas, at Dancing Class, there is never any cover at all.”
Her life at home with her family though was utterly idyllic. The freedom the children were allowed is almost unimaginable in our time of hygiene, health and safety, and they were obviously deeply loved by both their parents - and by their aunts and uncles and cousins – all of whom are written about with great affection.
This book is really enchanting. Highly recommended.
Read
December 11, 2009My grandmother's book was a classic almost on the day she wrote it in 1952, just 4 years before she died. Its circular shape is unusual for a memoir - she bundles together her memories under subjects (e.g. Uncles, i.e. the sons of Charles Darwin) - and adds considerably to its charm. Despite this lack of narrative beginning, middle and end, the quality and wit of her writing carries you through to the end in a trice, helped considerably by her telling pen and ink drawings. No wonder the book is still in print 57 years after it was first published.
November 28, 2021
Review to come.
May 11, 2012
What a wonderful, charming, witty, beautiful memoir of growing up in a large, loving eccentric family ( the Darwin's) in England before WW1. Superbly written, it made me nostalgic for a childhood filled with the freedom to run free and use your imagination to amuse yourself. This memoir does not read in chronological order, but is instead divided into subjects, such as Uncles, Aunts, Clothing, Religion, Amusements, etc. I gave this book 4 stars because it was a joy to read.
December 13, 2010
This has been my Year of the Memoir - I don't know how many I've read, but this one must be the best yet. Gwen Raverat is witty and feisty, and her pen and ink illustrations are the icing on the cake. I liked that she organized her memoir by topic rather than keeping to chronology, too. Her wry description of Victorian society and it's strange standards is quite pointed and funny. I absolutely loved the chapter "Sport" in which she tells of all the games she and her siblings and cousins would get up to - they ran utterly wild, incredibly so, even by our modern standards, and no one (least of all her mother) was in the least worried about them. And they did all this in their horribly stifling and uncomfortable Victorian outfits. Just a wonderfully written book of a very happy and full childhood. Her descriptions of her Uncles and Aunts make up a large part of the story, and they are interesting people, to say the least. The little mention made about her Uncle Lenny being president of the Eugenics Society sent a shiver down my spine. So scary, how an otherwise wonderful human being could hold to an evil such as that.
Love this little paragraph - and it's the tone the whole book is written in:
"Dear Reader, you may take it from me, that however hard you try - or don't try; whatever you do - or don't do; for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; every way and every day;
The parent is always wrong.
So it is no good bothering about it. When the little pests grow up they will certainly tell you exactly what you did wrong in their case. But, never mind; they will be just as wrong in their turn."
Love this little paragraph - and it's the tone the whole book is written in:
"Dear Reader, you may take it from me, that however hard you try - or don't try; whatever you do - or don't do; for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; every way and every day;
The parent is always wrong.
So it is no good bothering about it. When the little pests grow up they will certainly tell you exactly what you did wrong in their case. But, never mind; they will be just as wrong in their turn."
April 23, 2018
Cambridge is my local city, and it is one which I absolutely adore. I will happily read anything which is set within it. This was recommended to me by Lucy, who told me that it was an absolutely lovely book, and one which was well worth a read.
Gwen Raverat is the granddaughter of Charles Darwin, so along with the setting, the anthropological aspect interested me too. The places which she describes throughout are familiar to me, and I loved being able to picture the scenes exactly as they are and, in most cases, how they have remained for centuries. Throughout, lovely illustrations can be found, all of them by Raverat herself.
On reflection, Period Piece was not as I had expected before I began it. I thought that it would be quaint and would focus more upon growing up in Cambridge than upon Raverat’s multitudinous collection of relatives, some of whom were wonderfully eccentric, but others whom were rather dull. It was rather more of a familial than a geographical memoir, I suppose. The book is certainly interesting with regard to the scenes which it paints, but I cannot help but feel a little disappointed by it, feeling as it did a tiny bit lacklustre at times. Its charm was not quite consistent enough to make this a stand-out memoir. Period Piece is certainly of worth to the modern reader in the sense that one can see how social attitudes have altered, but not as much more in the case of this reviewer. Still, I certainly did not dislike it, so it receives a wholesome three stars.
Gwen Raverat is the granddaughter of Charles Darwin, so along with the setting, the anthropological aspect interested me too. The places which she describes throughout are familiar to me, and I loved being able to picture the scenes exactly as they are and, in most cases, how they have remained for centuries. Throughout, lovely illustrations can be found, all of them by Raverat herself.
On reflection, Period Piece was not as I had expected before I began it. I thought that it would be quaint and would focus more upon growing up in Cambridge than upon Raverat’s multitudinous collection of relatives, some of whom were wonderfully eccentric, but others whom were rather dull. It was rather more of a familial than a geographical memoir, I suppose. The book is certainly interesting with regard to the scenes which it paints, but I cannot help but feel a little disappointed by it, feeling as it did a tiny bit lacklustre at times. Its charm was not quite consistent enough to make this a stand-out memoir. Period Piece is certainly of worth to the modern reader in the sense that one can see how social attitudes have altered, but not as much more in the case of this reviewer. Still, I certainly did not dislike it, so it receives a wholesome three stars.
January 11, 2015
I don’t read as much non-fiction as I sometimes think I should – and I’m certainly not one to force the issue, but Period Piece represents the kind of non-fiction book I like best. Childhood memoirs of the Victorian and Edwardian era are a lovely sub-genre that I have found to be endlessly readable. This lovely book borrowed from my friend Liz comes with lots of lovely illustrations by the author herself.
Gwen Raverat was a wood engraver, the granddaughter of Charles Darwin, who died three years before she was born. Gwen was born into a large Cambridge family in 1885, her mother; an American had met and married her father George Darwin when on a visit to Cambridge in 1883. Although the book begins with the meeting of George Darwin and Maud Du Puy, and ends with Gwen’s admission to the Slade School of art, the book is mainly non-chronological, with each chapter following a particular theme rather than a period in time.
Full review: https://heavenali.wordpress.com/2015/...
Gwen Raverat was a wood engraver, the granddaughter of Charles Darwin, who died three years before she was born. Gwen was born into a large Cambridge family in 1885, her mother; an American had met and married her father George Darwin when on a visit to Cambridge in 1883. Although the book begins with the meeting of George Darwin and Maud Du Puy, and ends with Gwen’s admission to the Slade School of art, the book is mainly non-chronological, with each chapter following a particular theme rather than a period in time.
Full review: https://heavenali.wordpress.com/2015/...
September 18, 2021
This ended as it began: with a laugh. This was such a treat to read. At one point, I was out on the front porch reading in the warm summer air and laughing at regular intervals. My mom said through the screen door: “That must be a funny book!” It most certainly is. Gwen has a delightful way of poking fun at everyone in the nicest possible way and is hilariously honest about her own shortcomings.
The historical details in this are truly delightful and fascinating. Gwen is so honest about things, like Propriety and how hilariously and awfully it ruled their lives and about how dreadful the clothes were for women (stays and dragging hems and about sixteen layers of underclothes). She has a fine collection of aunts and uncles, and they sound like the quirkiest group of people. She describes each of them minutely and lovingly, especially the uncles. She loves her uncles as much as Bertie Wooster detests his aunts (excepting Aunt Dahlia).
I will definitely return to this in the future. I really can’t remember a book that made me laugh so much besides a Wodehouse.
The historical details in this are truly delightful and fascinating. Gwen is so honest about things, like Propriety and how hilariously and awfully it ruled their lives and about how dreadful the clothes were for women (stays and dragging hems and about sixteen layers of underclothes). She has a fine collection of aunts and uncles, and they sound like the quirkiest group of people. She describes each of them minutely and lovingly, especially the uncles. She loves her uncles as much as Bertie Wooster detests his aunts (excepting Aunt Dahlia).
I will definitely return to this in the future. I really can’t remember a book that made me laugh so much besides a Wodehouse.
February 20, 2020
I'd forgotten about this book. A relatable, funny memoir.
I particularly remember the description of Charles Darwin's wife, Gwen's grandmother, reading to the children and changing the stories as she went along, skipping the sad parts and changing the endings to happy ones.
Like Nancy Mitford's The Pursuit of Love but more tender. Full of joy and cosiness but with just as much wit and edge.
I particularly remember the description of Charles Darwin's wife, Gwen's grandmother, reading to the children and changing the stories as she went along, skipping the sad parts and changing the endings to happy ones.
Like Nancy Mitford's The Pursuit of Love but more tender. Full of joy and cosiness but with just as much wit and edge.
February 23, 2012
Period Piece is a charming exercise in nostalgia, though I quickly found I was only up for small doses of Childhood Memories in any one sitting so it took me a rather long time to finish it. Indeed, it never ceases to amaze me how well some people remember their childhoods. Gwen Raverat's was particularly memorable (and happy), surrounded and supported by a vast assemblage of eccentric aunts, uncles, and cousins. Having spent a year in Cambridge back in the 80's, though, my favorite portions of the book pertained to what life was back in the city during the Victorian era. The line drawings accompanying the text were particularly nice.
December 11, 2010
I adored this memoir.
For years now, I've been visiting Cambridge and walking by the blue plaque that says "Gwen Raverat lived here." It was truly a delight to read this reminiscence of her Cambridge childhood, of late Victorian society, and of the collection of eccentrics that were her Darwin family.
She was a truly original person and her humorous, distinctive voice makes this memoir something really special.
For years now, I've been visiting Cambridge and walking by the blue plaque that says "Gwen Raverat lived here." It was truly a delight to read this reminiscence of her Cambridge childhood, of late Victorian society, and of the collection of eccentrics that were her Darwin family.
She was a truly original person and her humorous, distinctive voice makes this memoir something really special.
January 4, 2014
A bit smug and marred by a faux humility. The author is a closet snob who could have written something more incisive about the privileged and educated classes at the end of the Victorian era and the period upto the First War.
May 13, 2023
üks toredamaid mälestusteraamatuid vist üldse, mida mul on õnnestunud lugeda - sellise huumori, soojuse ja detailsusega kirjutatud.
Gwen Raverat oli Charles Darwini pojatütar, sündis 1885. aastal ja kasvas üles Cambridge'is niisuguses... viktoriaanliku keskklassi õhkkonnas. põhitegelasteks on siin isapoolsed sugulased - Darwini lesk ja viis poega (Gwen nimetab neid "viieks onuks, sest isa on ju lihtsalt üks erilisemat sorti onu") ja kaks tütart ja poegade lapsed. vanast Darwinist endast tuleb juttu vähe, tema suri enne enamuse lapselaste sündi. raamatu alguses on kenasti ära toodud sugupuu, mis aitab kogu selles kambas orienteeruda ja järge pidada, kasutasin seda usinasti.
Gweni ema oli ameeriklanna ja muidugi tekkis mul siin kõvasti paralleele Consuelo Vanderbilti eluga Inglismaal umbes samast ajastust - aga tema ja ta abikaasa, Marlborough' hertsogiga võrreldes olid need Darwinid (kes põhiliselt töötasid ülikoolis õppejõududena) ikka puha lihtinimesed. siiski on Gwenil palju öelda selle kohta, kui palju tööd tuli nende elus ära teha teenijatel ja kuidas ümberringi oli ikka hirmus palju daame (defineeritud kui naised, kes ei tee ise midagi ja ainult käsutavad teisi). Gwen ise suurem asi daam ei olnud ega olla soovinud, mis vist tegigi ta nii sümpaatseks jutustajaks.
ja räägibki ta siin siis sellest, kuidas elati. milline oli kodu ja millised laste mängud ja millised muud kohustused (tantsutunnid, see suurim õudus!); kuidas käidi riides ja kuidas kirikus ja kuidas koolis; kus veedeti suvesid ja mida siis tehti; ja lähemalt on jutustatud kõigist onudest ja tädidest (nende hulka kuulusid ka onunaised). läbiv joon on siin see, et kuigi see viktoriaanlik lapsepõlv polnud mingi meelakkumine (vt ka: riided, kirik jne), oli lapsepõlv nõbude seltsis ikkagi hirmus tore ja kõik läks lõplikult käest ära alles siis, kui tuli hakata nooreks daamiks. millest ta, nagu öeldud, pärast mõningast katsetamist loobus.
"When I look back on those years when I was neither fish nor flesh, between the ages of sixteen and twenty-two, I remember them as an uncomfortable time, and sometimes a very unhappy one. Now that I have certainly attained the status of a Good red herring, I may at last be allowed to say: Oh dear, Oh dear, how horrid it was being young, and how nice it is being old and not having to mind what people think."
otseselt naljakaid asju juhtub ses loos vähe, aga nalja saab palju just Gweni enda hinnangute ja mõttekäikude osas, mis kõik on kirja pandud tagasivaatena tema päris vanast east - raamat ilmus aastal 1952 ja siis oli elu ja aeg juba hoopis teine ja suures osas ikkagi palju parem. ja oh, kuidas oskan hinnata vanainimest, kes oskab hinnata seda, kuidas elu on tema noorusajaga võrreldes pigem ikkagi edenenud, ja nendib, et polnud need tollased moed ja suhtumised suuremad asjad midagi.
Gwen Raverat oli Charles Darwini pojatütar, sündis 1885. aastal ja kasvas üles Cambridge'is niisuguses... viktoriaanliku keskklassi õhkkonnas. põhitegelasteks on siin isapoolsed sugulased - Darwini lesk ja viis poega (Gwen nimetab neid "viieks onuks, sest isa on ju lihtsalt üks erilisemat sorti onu") ja kaks tütart ja poegade lapsed. vanast Darwinist endast tuleb juttu vähe, tema suri enne enamuse lapselaste sündi. raamatu alguses on kenasti ära toodud sugupuu, mis aitab kogu selles kambas orienteeruda ja järge pidada, kasutasin seda usinasti.
Gweni ema oli ameeriklanna ja muidugi tekkis mul siin kõvasti paralleele Consuelo Vanderbilti eluga Inglismaal umbes samast ajastust - aga tema ja ta abikaasa, Marlborough' hertsogiga võrreldes olid need Darwinid (kes põhiliselt töötasid ülikoolis õppejõududena) ikka puha lihtinimesed. siiski on Gwenil palju öelda selle kohta, kui palju tööd tuli nende elus ära teha teenijatel ja kuidas ümberringi oli ikka hirmus palju daame (defineeritud kui naised, kes ei tee ise midagi ja ainult käsutavad teisi). Gwen ise suurem asi daam ei olnud ega olla soovinud, mis vist tegigi ta nii sümpaatseks jutustajaks.
ja räägibki ta siin siis sellest, kuidas elati. milline oli kodu ja millised laste mängud ja millised muud kohustused (tantsutunnid, see suurim õudus!); kuidas käidi riides ja kuidas kirikus ja kuidas koolis; kus veedeti suvesid ja mida siis tehti; ja lähemalt on jutustatud kõigist onudest ja tädidest (nende hulka kuulusid ka onunaised). läbiv joon on siin see, et kuigi see viktoriaanlik lapsepõlv polnud mingi meelakkumine (vt ka: riided, kirik jne), oli lapsepõlv nõbude seltsis ikkagi hirmus tore ja kõik läks lõplikult käest ära alles siis, kui tuli hakata nooreks daamiks. millest ta, nagu öeldud, pärast mõningast katsetamist loobus.
"When I look back on those years when I was neither fish nor flesh, between the ages of sixteen and twenty-two, I remember them as an uncomfortable time, and sometimes a very unhappy one. Now that I have certainly attained the status of a Good red herring, I may at last be allowed to say: Oh dear, Oh dear, how horrid it was being young, and how nice it is being old and not having to mind what people think."
otseselt naljakaid asju juhtub ses loos vähe, aga nalja saab palju just Gweni enda hinnangute ja mõttekäikude osas, mis kõik on kirja pandud tagasivaatena tema päris vanast east - raamat ilmus aastal 1952 ja siis oli elu ja aeg juba hoopis teine ja suures osas ikkagi palju parem. ja oh, kuidas oskan hinnata vanainimest, kes oskab hinnata seda, kuidas elu on tema noorusajaga võrreldes pigem ikkagi edenenud, ja nendib, et polnud need tollased moed ja suhtumised suuremad asjad midagi.
April 27, 2025
An amusing memoir about the author’s family and upbringing: https://perfectretort.blogspot.com/20...
January 4, 2019
Period Piece offers a uniquely intimate glimpse into Cambridge life and society at the end of the 19th century. With Mrs. Raverat being Charles Darwin's granddaughter, the Darwin shadow rests over the entire book, but remains incorporeal because Darwin died before the author was even born.
Raverat made the excellent decision to organize her book topically rather than chronologically; this is made possible by her family's geographical immobility in the environs of Cambridge (her education as a teenager at boarding school takes up only a few pages). Such an organization permits the characters (truly the appropriate term), locations, and social norms unfold in an exciting and organic way.
What makes Raverat's perspective so insightful is her dual status as outsider and insider: she is, of course, a member of a reputable and important family, one that is subject to the strict norms of behavior and propriety that characterized that time. She articulates this clearly in the chapter on propriety:
PP is an absolutely delightful book, sure to elicit as many laughs as thoughts about family, society, and morality. As Gwen Raverat herself says at the conclusion of her memoir,
I read this book at a time in my life when I am myself attempting to balance my individual personality and interests with larger social expectations and concerns, so this was a nice read. Reading an account of such a harmonious family also appealed to me greatly, given how turbulent my own can be.
Raverat made the excellent decision to organize her book topically rather than chronologically; this is made possible by her family's geographical immobility in the environs of Cambridge (her education as a teenager at boarding school takes up only a few pages). Such an organization permits the characters (truly the appropriate term), locations, and social norms unfold in an exciting and organic way.
What makes Raverat's perspective so insightful is her dual status as outsider and insider: she is, of course, a member of a reputable and important family, one that is subject to the strict norms of behavior and propriety that characterized that time. She articulates this clearly in the chapter on propriety:
...I was quite alone and outside. I did not belong, I was separate, just looking on; outside...But it was always terrifying and lonely, and seemed to point the contrast between ME and all those other friendly people, who sat talking under the trees.In particular, the strict morality and arbitrary expectations of dress, manners, and behavior were completely lost on her. Raverat's American mother, Maud du Puy, was a driven but simple woman, an American with a puritanical streak. Her rearing of her children was founded on principles that she did not question or challenge. To Raverat, however, these things were not self-evident at all. PP is amusing precisely because of this: it never occurred to Gwen to care whether she could dance, whether she had bare feet outside (the horror!), whether she put on airs for guests at her family's parties. Her incisive observation stands in contrast to her extended family's obliviousness and almost total lack of self-awareness.
PP is an absolutely delightful book, sure to elicit as many laughs as thoughts about family, society, and morality. As Gwen Raverat herself says at the conclusion of her memoir,
I remember [my childhood] as an uncomfortable time, and sometimes a very unhappy one...Oh dear, Oh dear, how horrid it was being young, and how nice it is being old and not having to mind what people think.Her complete apathy toward what she calls "System C-with-a-dash-of-A" (chivalry and Christian morality, respectively) provided her with the perspective that in turn made her childhood nigh-unbearable. We can, however, profit from Raverat's past unhappiness without fear of Schadenfreude, so we may as well. Particular highlights of the book for me were the chapters on Propriety, Religion, Sport, and Clothes. The chapter on Ghosts and Horrors is very funny as well.
I read this book at a time in my life when I am myself attempting to balance my individual personality and interests with larger social expectations and concerns, so this was a nice read. Reading an account of such a harmonious family also appealed to me greatly, given how turbulent my own can be.
December 13, 2018
I had hoped to be able to snuggle down into memories of Nanny and buttered toast by the nursery fire, followed by jolly good boarding school fun and the angst of Coming Out. Unfortunately that is not what you get in this book. I would have enjoyed it much more if she had focused on her own life, such as being an art student at the Slade. Instead, most of this book focuses on her adult relations. That's why she put a family tree in the front of the book--because aside from her famous grandfather, Charles Darwin, ten will get you fifty you haven't heard of any of the rest. She just naturally assumes that you have internalised the tree (after all, she put it there, weren't you attending?) and know who all the people she mentions in passing are, including her child cousins Ruth and Frances and Bernard and Company, even though she doesn't really explain who the kids are until well into the second third of the book. Of course she is careful to refer to people by their titles, so it's all Sir So-and-So, Canon This and Lady That and the Honourable Somebody else. If they're not actually titled she makes sure you know how important they are as artists or writers or statesmen or whatever. Not that you'll have heard of half of them.
If only an editor had stepped in and put her childhood memories first, so we got a semi-accurate picture of what it was like to grow up at that time, and then had her tell about what the adults did. Then I could have dnf'd the dull part, which is nearly half of the text, including all her humblebrags about how "badly" they treated the servants and how "delicate" (ie demanding) she herself was. I could also have done without the "clever" little captions to the author's own (of course) illustrations, which are as arch as the Saint Louis monument, particularly any pictures involving the dog. I like dogs, which is why I didn't like the use she made of Sancho.
I won't be reading this again.
If only an editor had stepped in and put her childhood memories first, so we got a semi-accurate picture of what it was like to grow up at that time, and then had her tell about what the adults did. Then I could have dnf'd the dull part, which is nearly half of the text, including all her humblebrags about how "badly" they treated the servants and how "delicate" (ie demanding) she herself was. I could also have done without the "clever" little captions to the author's own (of course) illustrations, which are as arch as the Saint Louis monument, particularly any pictures involving the dog. I like dogs, which is why I didn't like the use she made of Sancho.
I won't be reading this again.
June 27, 2011
I picked up this book during a visit to Cambridge last year. You know how when you visit a bookshop in a new city, it always tends to have a section of 'local' works? Well, this was on that same said table and its' lavender cover (unlike the image shown) caught my eye. I shelved it when I got back home and didn't think much about it since. But then about a week ago, while shelving another book nearby, this one's binding caught my eye. I'd been on a streak of books on women, either written by them or about them, and felt like this memoir might just be the next perfect thing to read. I was completely right.
This was simply the loveliest of childhood memoirs. Beautifully written and wonderfully detailed, it transports one to a time and place utterly unknowable to a 'modern' reader. Yes, Raverat was Darwin's granddaughter, but he's gone by the time she's born. But the family she's born into is truly remarkable and so is she.
The book is divided up into chapters such as 'Ladies' and 'Propriety' as well as 'Aunt Etty' and 'The Five Uncles'. It's not really told chronologically, so one could dip in and out as wanted, as even the author recommends. As for me, i read it in order and found it a marvelous little thing. My only problem w/it was that it ended too soon. I wanted to find out more about Gwen - about what happened to her after she grew up, which she here and there alludes to. But alas it seems she didn't write any other books.
Still, we have this lovely one, full of fun and silliness that allows us to delight and be ever envious of such a childhood. Not because of its' privilege, but b/c of its freedom.
I'd heartily recommend this book to anyone who's ever been a child ;o)
This was simply the loveliest of childhood memoirs. Beautifully written and wonderfully detailed, it transports one to a time and place utterly unknowable to a 'modern' reader. Yes, Raverat was Darwin's granddaughter, but he's gone by the time she's born. But the family she's born into is truly remarkable and so is she.
The book is divided up into chapters such as 'Ladies' and 'Propriety' as well as 'Aunt Etty' and 'The Five Uncles'. It's not really told chronologically, so one could dip in and out as wanted, as even the author recommends. As for me, i read it in order and found it a marvelous little thing. My only problem w/it was that it ended too soon. I wanted to find out more about Gwen - about what happened to her after she grew up, which she here and there alludes to. But alas it seems she didn't write any other books.
Still, we have this lovely one, full of fun and silliness that allows us to delight and be ever envious of such a childhood. Not because of its' privilege, but b/c of its freedom.
I'd heartily recommend this book to anyone who's ever been a child ;o)
September 15, 2013
Period Piece, Gwen Raverat
One of the many books that’s sat around on my bookshelf for years, this is a good example of why it’s a good idea to read what I’ve already accumulated instead of trying to keep up with newer titles. Written in 1952 when the author was 62, it’s an absolutely delightful memoir of Raverat’s Victorian childhood spent as the privileged child of a distinguished family of Cambridge scholars. It was interesting to discover that she was the grand-daughter of Charles Darwin who she writes about only tangentially but always with great affection: “Of course we always felt embarrassed if our grandfather were mentioned, just as we did if God were spoken of. In fact, he was obviously in the same category as God and Father Christmas. Only with our grandfather, we also felt modestly, that we ought to disclaim any virtue of our own in having produced him. Of course it was very much to our credit, really to own such a grandfather; but one mustn’t be proud or show off about it…” The book is filled with wit and humor as she describes what it was like growing up as a much loved child who lived an idyllic life surrounded by eccentric relatives and a mother who was clearly well ahead of her time. My copy of the book was printed in 1953 and was illustrated with her charming line drawings that sent me to the internet for more information. That’s how I discovered that Raverat grew up to be one of the first women in England to go to art school. She married a French painter and the two of them belonged to Virginia Woolf’s Bloomsbury Group. She was very well known for her gorgeous wood engravings which she created to be used as book illustrations. Some of them can be seen on the internet and they’re every bit as charming as her memoir.
One of the many books that’s sat around on my bookshelf for years, this is a good example of why it’s a good idea to read what I’ve already accumulated instead of trying to keep up with newer titles. Written in 1952 when the author was 62, it’s an absolutely delightful memoir of Raverat’s Victorian childhood spent as the privileged child of a distinguished family of Cambridge scholars. It was interesting to discover that she was the grand-daughter of Charles Darwin who she writes about only tangentially but always with great affection: “Of course we always felt embarrassed if our grandfather were mentioned, just as we did if God were spoken of. In fact, he was obviously in the same category as God and Father Christmas. Only with our grandfather, we also felt modestly, that we ought to disclaim any virtue of our own in having produced him. Of course it was very much to our credit, really to own such a grandfather; but one mustn’t be proud or show off about it…” The book is filled with wit and humor as she describes what it was like growing up as a much loved child who lived an idyllic life surrounded by eccentric relatives and a mother who was clearly well ahead of her time. My copy of the book was printed in 1953 and was illustrated with her charming line drawings that sent me to the internet for more information. That’s how I discovered that Raverat grew up to be one of the first women in England to go to art school. She married a French painter and the two of them belonged to Virginia Woolf’s Bloomsbury Group. She was very well known for her gorgeous wood engravings which she created to be used as book illustrations. Some of them can be seen on the internet and they’re every bit as charming as her memoir.
July 5, 2016
This book was written by Charles Darwin's granddaughter, Gwen Raverat, in 1952, and was about her life growing up. It was refreshing in the sense that, even though set in the Victorian era, there was a distinct lack of religious mores unusual for the time. There were strong behavioral codes, some of them admirable, such as a tremendous emphasis on humility.
What I didn't know until I had finished the book is that Raverat was a well-known and respected artist. I was happy to learn that she led a fulfilling life, not surprising for someone as intelligent as she and with such a common-sense attitude. (Of course, her money and family connections most likely helped speed her along her way.)
This quote is an example of her straightforward attitude toward life: "I simply made up my mind that as I could not be good-looking or well-dressed, I would never again think about my appearance at all. I would have enough clothes to be decent, but I would try to be as nearly invisible as possible, and would live for the rest of my life like a sort of disembodied spirit. Of course I knew that this was not the best possible solution, but it was the only one that seemed to be practicable. And at any rate this decision did really set me free; I hardly ever thought about my clothes or my looks any more at all; and, except for sometimes at the beginning of a party, nearly always forgot to be self-conscious."
What I didn't know until I had finished the book is that Raverat was a well-known and respected artist. I was happy to learn that she led a fulfilling life, not surprising for someone as intelligent as she and with such a common-sense attitude. (Of course, her money and family connections most likely helped speed her along her way.)
This quote is an example of her straightforward attitude toward life: "I simply made up my mind that as I could not be good-looking or well-dressed, I would never again think about my appearance at all. I would have enough clothes to be decent, but I would try to be as nearly invisible as possible, and would live for the rest of my life like a sort of disembodied spirit. Of course I knew that this was not the best possible solution, but it was the only one that seemed to be practicable. And at any rate this decision did really set me free; I hardly ever thought about my clothes or my looks any more at all; and, except for sometimes at the beginning of a party, nearly always forgot to be self-conscious."
February 26, 2016
I was given this book as a gift in 1983 and cannot understand why it has taken me this long to read it. It is the most charming and lovely read covering the childhood of Gwen Raverat from her birth in 1885 to the turn of the century.
Gwen is the grand-daughter of Charles Darwin and Emma Wedgwood. Her writing is a great piece of social history of those times. Each chapter covers a topic such as 'Ladies', 'Propriety', 'Clothes', 'Sport', Society'.
The book is beautifully, and often humourously, illustrated throughout by Gwen's line drawings.
There is also a chapter on 'Down' - the home of Charles Darwin in Downe, Kent where the author spent her summers with many other family members. I live in Cambridge and recently visited Down House (now owned by English Heritage) so I particularly enjoyed reading about places I know.
Gwen is the grand-daughter of Charles Darwin and Emma Wedgwood. Her writing is a great piece of social history of those times. Each chapter covers a topic such as 'Ladies', 'Propriety', 'Clothes', 'Sport', Society'.
The book is beautifully, and often humourously, illustrated throughout by Gwen's line drawings.
There is also a chapter on 'Down' - the home of Charles Darwin in Downe, Kent where the author spent her summers with many other family members. I live in Cambridge and recently visited Down House (now owned by English Heritage) so I particularly enjoyed reading about places I know.
Read
November 28, 2010An elegiac but funny memoir of Cambridge in the late Victorian period, written by Darwin’s granddaughter many years afterwards. The book sheds brief glimmers of light on famous figures (Vaughan Williams, E.M. Forster, Darwin himself), but mostly details the lifestyle and foibles of a very well-to-do and connected family of the time—and Victorian girlhood. Also a great read for specific tidbits on old Cambridge (who knew how new punting is!).
August 28, 2012
The title says it all really - it really does reflect a time of the past. Hard to conceive of such a straitened society just down the road and just over a 100 years ago. Very little indeed to do with Darwin, but none the worse for that. It was only after I'd read it that I discovered it's a small classic, read by many over the years.
July 10, 2013
This was an enchanting book to read! It's full of hilarious characters, beautiful places and interesting stories. The tone is very humorous, and the book gives a charming account of life at the time.
I hadn't previously read any memoirs, so I found it difficult to get through being used to books with more plot and a faster pace, but it was an enjoyable book to read a little bit at a time!
I hadn't previously read any memoirs, so I found it difficult to get through being used to books with more plot and a faster pace, but it was an enjoyable book to read a little bit at a time!
October 11, 2017
I read this memoir slowly, dipping in and out of it over months, whenever I wanted to remind myself that there existed a world of croquet mallets, chaperoning courting couples, and corsets. A world that Gwen Raverat made out to be peopled by endearing yet slightly ridiculous characters, their quirks brought to the fore by her dry and almost, cruel wit. And oddly sanitized for our consumption?
June 19, 2007
this is an amazing book, it will make you happy.
September 3, 2012
Absolutely superb autobiography, until age 16, of C Darwin's granddaughter. Funny and heart- warming.
February 25, 2015
I loved the drawings most of all, the sometimes pouty, strong-minded young Gwen, the tiger lurking in the bed canopy, and the longsuffering family dog.
October 21, 2017
Absolutely delightful Victorian childhood memoir filled stem to stern with endearing humor.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 122 reviews