"He knew now that neither the wilderness nor the dark weather, devils, nor the infinite void, mattered to him in the least. His love for Deborah made him impregnable to terror, gave him a grasp of truth deeper than reason. He had found the golden arrow, to his own agony and ennobling." At the very beginning of the twentieth century, Deborah Arden is living with her father John, mother Patty and younger brother Joe in their cottage high up on the exposed moorland hilltops of Shropshire. Their farm, High Leasowes, is given over to the sheep her father cares for with great tenderness. Their life is simple and elemental, and their concerns are those of the people of the land. Nature rules their world, and they respond by working alongside its almost unanswerable power, sometimes willingly, sometimes not. John works with fate, gently understanding all around him, be they supposedly bad or good, with the utmost care. Patty's argumentative practicality rankles against his easefulness, but she also works with nature, as busy midwife to all the women around the district. Joe is a straightforward lad, happy with a comfortable home, work in the fields that he knows, and the gorgeous blonde, Lily Huntbatch, from the village of Bitterley close by. Deborah is a lively intelligent young woman, gossiping with her best friend Lily, lovingly tending the animals with her father, helping her mother at home, and wondering about love. Then the family hears news that one of the young miners from the works up near the peaks has taken on the job of preacher at their local church. They all go to hear Stephen Southernwood the following Sunday, and most of the family and the local villagers are quietly inspired. For Deborah though, it is as if a bomb has dropped. Her naïve questions about love have been resoundingly answered. Now begins a journey of ecstasy, discovery and pain which will affect the whole Arden family and all around it, a wild journey where not only love is at stake, but life itself. Mary Webb is one of the most misunderstood of twentieth century writers. Dismissed as a rustic, pilloried as a romantic, she has been consistently undervalued. In fact, she writes mostly of the soul, expressing inherent truths in original and tender ways. Having an almost uncanny internal compass for the workings of the human mind, Webb presents people in all their contrariness and metaphysical wonder with strange and bewitching honesty. This honest tendency includes pioneering writing of physical desire and the erotic; on original publication in 1916, The Golden Arrow was regarded as very close to the bone. Mary Webb was born Mary Gladys Meredith in the village of Leighton in Shropshire in 1881. At the age of 20 she developed symptoms of Graves' disease, keeping her in somewhat ill-health for the rest of her life. She married Henry Bertram Law Webb, a teacher, in 1912. Her first novel The Golden Arrow, published in 1916, was followed by five others, as well as essays, poems and stories. Her fifth and most famous novel Precious Bane was awarded the Prix Femina. Mary Webb died still relatively uncelebrated in 1927 at the age of 46. Soon after her death the Prime Minister, Stanley Baldwin, spearheaded a campaign of recognition of her talent, gaining her posthumous bestseller status and cementing her reputation as writer giving a twist of modern genius to the classic tradition of Thomas Hardy and Emily Bronte.
Mary Webb (1881-1927) was an English romantic novelist of the early 20th century, whose novels were set chiefly in the Shropshire countryside and among Shropshire characters and people which she knew and loved well. Although she was acclaimed by John Buchan and by Rebecca West, who hailed her as a genius, and won the Prix Femina of La Vie Heureuse for Precious Bane (1924), she won little respect from the general public. It was only after her death that the Prime Minister, Stanley Baldwin, earned her posthumous success through his approbation, referring to her as a neglected genius at a Literary Fund dinner in 1928.
Her writing is notable for its descriptions of nature, and of the human heart. She had a deep sympathy for all her characters and was able to see good and truth in all of them. Among her most famous works are: The Golden Arrow (1916), Gone to Earth (1917), and Seven for a Secret (1922).
This is the latest book by Mary Webb that I have read; (a couple of others still to add on here.) Since reading "Precious Bane", I have been working through all the others and found none to reach the sublime poetry of "Precious Bane" and have found them variable in their quality. This was one of the better ones, even if the illness that the main character succumbs to after her lover deserts her smacks a little of the self-indulgent, rather than the spirituality it is clearly supposed to represent.
Like all her books, though, the characters are so wonderfully wrought and so real, whether they are given to a spiritual communing with nature, or a meanness of spirit, which delights in the suffering of others. And whether the plot and characters fully engage you or not, you are sure to come across at least ONE paragraph that will stun you with its ability to crystallise a whole narrative into a few lines and will punch you in the gut with its power. Take this, for instance, describing the main character’s simple, amiable brother and the object of his affections, who has been put upon by a puritanical father and, despite being able to hide it underneath a pretty exterior, is envious of all and delights in cutting others down to size:
“Joe gazed at her over his large cup, with love, the white everlasting that grows in simple places, flowering in his face. He did not know that to such as Lily the snapping of flowers – even everlastings – was a matter of course. They were things to pick, use, fling away: only blossoms, not necessary to anyone, like vegetables and meat. So the gospel of the grey-hearted had sunk into Lily’s soul, which was meant to be a thing of colour and fragrance, but had been so frozen and stunted that only a poor little empty crevasse remained.”
My main regret, after reading these books, is that I didn’t also take a notepad and pen to bed with me, to note down each wonderful sentence, or vivid paragraph that captured my imagination as I read them. (The paragraph above came at the end of a chapter and so was the last thing I read before turning out the light and therefore its place in the book was emblazoned on my memory!) Whether brilliant or indifferent, Mary Webb’s books, for me, deliver all the magical power of language that the books of Elizabeth Goodge promised, from the extract in Barbara Cartland’s ‘prayer’ book “The Light of Love”, but failed to deliver in reality.
Mary Webb is most certainly the twentieth-century's inheritor of the rural fiction tradition of Bronte, Eliot, and Hardy, and in her first novel she shows a surprising affinity with D. H. Lawrence in this narrative of tragic passion and ennobling love. All the Webb trademarks are here, loving attention to rural landscape, labor, and speech, and an almost painful sensitivity to the vagaries of human emotion. Though not as philosophically rich as her later novels, this remains a rather astoundingly accomplished first novel, and one I will certainly return to in future years.
Reading the signs of nature as one would read a tarot card spread.
"It is the tragedy of the self-absorbed that when the great moments of their lives go by in royal raiment with a sound of silver flutes, they are so muffled in self and the present that they neither hear nor see."
A trifle mawkish and fatalistic at times but some lovely, descriptive narrative. I thoroughly enjoyed it and look forward to reading more from this author.
Very much recommended for readers of Hardy or the Powys siblings. Bumping the rating up to a five because the character of the supportive parent John was so beautifully rendered.
The Golden Arrow by Mary Webb is a romance blended with superstitions and humour.
It mainly tells the story of Deborah, a beautiful young woman who has no plans or thoughts of marrying, but she does. She is a simple girl adored by her kind-hearted father and a sarcastic mother. Her kindness and loyalty overflows after her marriage. Her love is genuine and generous, but her belief in superstitions fills her with fears and worries.
On the other hand, her lover— later her husband—is the newcomer, a pastor losing his faith. He is a rebellious, fiery character. He struggles to fit into the mundane life in the moorlands and woods—doing the same things, and seeing the same people. His love for Deborah is unquestionable, but his restless and adventurous nature always takes the lead.
Though the story is about love and loss, it is also rich in humour and sarcasm. The moorland community, with its contrasts and differences, creates a lighthearted narrative, making the reader smile and laugh every now and then.
The story gives thoughtful messages for readers to reflect and appreciate. It explores how realsim and idealism co-exist, how making amends is possible, how love can heal, and how genuineness triumphs over falseness.
Here's a quote from the book:
"It is the tragedy of the self-absorbed that when the great moments of their lives go by in royal raiment with a sound of silver flutes, they are so muffled in self and the present that they neither hear nor see."
The Golden Arrow (1916), Mary Webb’s debut novel, was written when she was 35. She admired the works of Thomas Hardy, and like Hardy she wrote lyrically of the natural world, incorporated local dialect and folklore, and expressed a realistic world view. The story focuses on the Ardens: Farmer John and his wife Patty and their two young adult children, Joe and Deborah. I loved their goodness, their deep love for each other, and the evocation of rural Shropshire. The core of the story describes Joe’s and Deborah’s first loves and the challenges they both face with the persons they love. It also incorporates elements of existential angst, religion, and superstition. The rural Shropshire setting, their closeness to nature, and relative isolation seem to magnify the drama of their lives. Gone to Earth and Precious Bane remain my favorite novels by Mary Webb, but The Golden Arrow shares many of the elements seen in the later novels, and it’s interesting to see the development of her work. I recommend it, especially for those who love English pastoral storytelling.
Silly Virago, The Golden Arrow didn't need a new introduction.
". . . but the point to seize is the presence of something positive and sacramental on the other side; a heroism that is not negative but affirmative; a saintship with the power to cast out demons; expressed in that immemorial popular notion of an antidote to a poison and a counter-charm against a witch."
I read this has part of my book club and was excited to read it because of the fact that I live about 3 miles from where it is based. However, what a bland yet hard book to read. What else can I say other than its one ticked of the list and that I won't read any more Mary Webb.
Rather melodramatic and didn't enjoy it as much as Mary Webb's 'Precious Bane'. The storyline was a bit predictable but the characters were very strongly portrayed. I loved grumpy old Eli, dependable and thoughtful John and the self-centred Stephen, who was always going to leave. Anyway, he sees the error of his ways and comes home - all's well that ends well!
Ah, I had to read this because it was by the author of Precious Bane, my favourite old classic tale. This isn't as good, but still, the words are worth getting your tongue around as is the ancient and evocative setting.
From Amazon: "Mary Webb (March 25, 1881 - October 8, 1927), was an English romantic novelist of the early 20th century, whose Hardyesque novels are set chiefly in the Shropshire countryside and among Shropshire characters and people which she knew."
I got yet another book by the author of one of my absolute favorite books, Precious Bane. Unfortunately, this one was very weird and only morbid curiosity made me finish it. I wouldn't recommend this to anyone. But read Precious Bane -- it's a wonder.
Very good book, but Webb's fantastic writing doesn't quite find its feet here, and I was left feeling "Yeah, nice" rather than the "OMG wowee" I got from Precious Bane.