The Provincial Lady in America

The Provincial Lady #3

by E.M. Delafield, Georgina Sutton (Narrator)

In this volume the P.L. comes to America on a literary tour, visiiting New York Chicago, Cleveland, Boston and other cities. A delightful see-youselves-as-others-see-you view that challenges the American sense of humor.

Genres: Fiction, Humor, Classics, Audiobook, British Literature, Historical Fiction, Historical

Audiobook

First published March 1, 1934

About the author

Edmée 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.

Reviews

[Jess · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was such a delight to read. I think it might rank as my second favorite in the series. Just a tad behind the first which made me fall in love with the Provincial Lady (PL).

This novel shows us America through the eyes of the Provincial Lady. We embark on a whirlwind press tour with a quick stop in Canada. I enjoyed her adventures and hopeful wish to see Louisa May Alcott's home. So many scenes made me laugh out loud. I also empathized with the PL's disappointment on learning there was no cherry tree for George Washington to chop down.. and therefore that timeless story she's used to illustrate truthfulness to Vicky was a false one. Meeting new faces on the PL's journey is always a hoot but it was especially nice to see some familiar ones making their appearances. I didn't realize how I missed Mademoiselle until she pops in for a few chapters in this novel.

Overall, I love the self deprecating wryness in the PL and her observations. And even with that outlook, she maintains an avid curiosity about life and is a good sport to try most anything at least once. It's always a comfort to go back into a different time and way of life than the current. Even though there are differences, there is also a constancy in behaviors.

[Eleanor · Rating 3 out of 5]

I enjoyed this next episode of the doings of the Provincial Lady, though not quite as much as I did the first two volumes. I'm not sure whether this was because the freshness was wearing off the idea, or because her trip to America (she ventures up into Canada as well as to various cities in the US) took us away from the funniness of the doings in the village. What was delightful was the kindness and hospitality of the many people who welcomed her in the course of her book tour.

She still has her moments though. In a discussion about English food, a young man called Taylor said that "he has suffered a good deal from English cabbage. Savouries, on the other hand, are excellent. They are eaten, he surprisingly adds, with a special little knife and fork, usually of gold. Can only suppose that Taylor, when in England, moves exclusively in ducal circles, and hastily resolve never in any circumstances to ask him to my own house where savouries, if any, are eaten with perfectly ordinary electro-plate."

Worth reading.

[Tania · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is the third in the Provincial Lady series. Said to be loosely based on E.M. Delafield's own life, in this instalment she has become rather more famous than the middle-aged, middle-class housewife of the first book. So much so that her publishers want to send her on a book tour of America. Told in diary form, this gives us her impressions of the country and it's people. Told with warmth, charm and wit, I actually laughed out loud several times today while reading this book. As others have mentioned, not quite as good as the first two, but perfect comfort reading for these times.

[Kirsty · Rating 4 out of 5]

Whilst the third book in E.M. Delafield's Provincial Lady series is not told in diary format, as the first two volumes are, it is still incredibly charming, witty, and memorable. An easy but intelligent read, which feels timeless to the modern reader.

[Ivonne Rovira · Rating 5 out of 5]

E.M. Delafield (pen name of Elizabeth Dashwood) uses her third book to chronicle her North American tour. She doesn’t get further west than Chicago, and her only Canadian stopover is Toronto, but our narrator has a wonderful time and meets a gratifying number of fans.

While Delafield delights when describing her domestic life, she equally shines when she’s away from hearth and home. How is her name not better known? I’ll take her over Erma Bombeck or Jenn Mann any day of the week! I loved, loved, loved this book — perhaps best of all.

Note: I had read that these books were mostly autobiographical, but I blew that off, as I do with David Sedaris. But, lo and behold, the main characters really do come from Delafield’s own life. They’re identified here. Don’t miss this link if you’re a fan!

[SarahC · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is another section of the diary of E.M. Delafield's Provincial Lady. PL in America includes the pleasures, mysteries, and daily comedies of her travels in America in 1930's. The writing takes place as PL is encouraged to go to America to celebrate the success of her book. She meets a variety of odd guides and hosts throughout her stay, but finds overall an audience ready to appreciate her clever, yet human, self.

I have enjoyed the PL books for some time now-- she has pulled me through many a rough day. I recently found her on The Guardian's list of Top 1,000 Reads.

[Cera · Rating 3 out of 5]

It's always interesting to see outside views of American culture.

[Laura · Rating 3 out of 5]

Very funny comedy of (English) manners and an interesting look at life between wars.

[Roberta · Rating 5 out of 5]

Non ci sono grosse novità nello stile e nell'approccio dell'autrice in questo terzo volume della serie dedicata alla Provincial Lady. La differenza qui è che la nostra eroina viene spedita dalla casa editrice in America, a fare un giro di conferenze. Tra l'incredulità di essere stata scelta per un simile onore, le preoccupazioni per la famiglia e le assurde piccole avventure che le capitano in territorio americano, la lettura scorre liscissima. I punti salienti sono l'ironia, come sempre, che spesso e volentieri permette all'autrice di dissociarsi da prese di posizione spiacevoli e deprecabili senza diventare maleducata, e l'adorazione per la Alcott, che causa l'unica velleità dell'autrice che desidera ardentemente visitarne la casa. Il suo desiderio verrà esaudito. Il mio, un po' meno, perché speravo in un resoconto più approfondito. Se non altro, mi sono entusiasmata e ho deciso di rileggere Piccole donne in inglese (lo sapevate che nella versione originale Piccole donne e Piccole donne crescono sono un unico volume - Little Women appunto?).

[Barbara Mader · Rating 3 out of 5]

I thought this was the weakest of the her "Provincial Lady" books--probably due to her being on the go and having to bring in new characters all the time.

[M-n · Rating 5 out of 5]

very funny same level of entertainment as all her others bravo..

[Chrissie]

The third of a series of four:
1.Diary of a Provincial Lady 4 stars
2.The Provincial Lady in London TBR
3.The Provincial Lady in America TBR
4.The Provincial Lady in Wartime TBR

[Dr.J.G. · Rating 3 out of 5]

"July 7th.—Incredulous astonishment on receiving by second post—usually wholly confined to local bills and circulars concerning neighbouring Garden Fêtes—courteous and charming letter from publishers in America. They are glad to say that they feel able to meet me on every point concerning my forthcoming visit to the United States, and enclose contract for my approval and signature.

"Am completely thrown on my beam-ends by this, but remember that visit to America was once mooted and that I light-heartedly reeled off stipulations as to financial requirements, substantial advances, and so on, with no faintest expectation that anybody would ever pay the slightest attention to me. This now revealed as complete fallacy. Read contract about fourteen times running, and eyes—figuratively speaking—nearly drop out of my head with astonishment. Can I possibly be worth all this?

"Probably not, but should like to see America, and in any case am apparently committed to going there whether I want to or not.

"Long and involved train of thought follows, beginning with necessity for breaking this news to Robert at the most auspicious moment possible, and going on to requirements of wardrobe, now at lowest possible ebb, and speculating as to whether, if I leave immediately after children's summer holidays, and return just before Christmas ones, it would not be advisable to embark upon Christmas shopping instantly.

"All is interrupted by telephone ring—just as well, as I am rapidly becoming agitated—and voice says that it is Sorry to Disturb Me but is just Testing the Bell. I say Oh, all right, and decide to show publishers' letter to Robert after tea."

"July 10th.—Telegram—reply prepaid—arrives from American publishers' representative in London, enquiring what I have decided, and this is unfortunately taken down over the telephone by Robert. Full explanations ensue, are not wholly satisfactory, and am left with extraordinary sensations of guilt and duplicity which I do not attempt to analyse."
............

"Oct. 9th.—Interior of my own cabin becomes extremely familiar, owing to rough weather and consequent collapse. Feel that I shall probably not live to see America, let alone England again.

"Oct. 11th.—Emerge gradually from very, very painful state of affairs. New remedy for sea-sickness provided by Rose may or may not be responsible for my being still alive, but that is definitely the utmost that can be said for it."

"Oct. 12th.—Situation improved, I get up and sit on deck, eat raw apple for lunch, and begin to feel that I may, after all, live to see America. Devote a good deal of thought, and still more admiration, to Christopher Columbus who doubtless performed similar transit to mine, under infinitely more trying conditions."

"Just as I think it must be tea-time, discover that all ship clocks differ from my watch, and am informed by deck steward that The Time Goes Back an Hour every night. Pretend that I knew this all along, and had merely forgotten it, but am in reality astonished, and wish that Robert was here to explain."

"Oct. 14th.—America achieved. Statue of Liberty, admirably lit up, greets me at about seven o'clock this evening, entrance to harbour is incredibly beautiful, and skyscrapers prove to be just as impressive as their reputation, and much more decorative.

"Just as I am admiring everything from top deck two unknown young women suddenly materialise—(risen from the ocean, like Venus?)—also young man with camera, and I am approached and asked if I will at once give my views on The United States, the American Woman and Modern American Novels. Young man says that he wishes to take my photograph, which makes me feel like a film star—appearance, unfortunately, does nothing to support this illusion—and this is duly accomplished, whilst I stand in dégagé attitude, half-way down companion-ladder on which I have never before set foot throughout the voyage."

"American publisher has come to meet me and is on the Dock, I am delighted to see him, and we sit on a bench for about two hours, surrounded by luggage, none of which seems to be mine Eventually, however, it appears—which slightly surprises me—publisher supports me through Customs inspection, and finally escorts me personally to Essex House, where I am rung up five times before an hour has elapsed, with hospitable greetings and invitations."

"Oct. 16th.—Come to the conclusion that everything I have ever heard or read about American Hospitality is an understatement. Telephone bell rings incessantly from nine o'clock onwards, invitations pour in, and complete strangers ring up to say that they liked my book, and would be glad to give a party for me at any hour of the day or night. Am plunged by all this into a state of bewilderment, but feel definitely that it will be a satisfaction to let a number of people at home hear about it all, and realise estimation in which professional writers are held in America. (Second thought obtrudes itself here, to the effect that, if I know anything of my neighbours, they will receive any such information with perfect calm and probably say Yes, they've always heard that Americans were Like That.)"

"Three women reporters follow—am much struck by the fact that they are all good-looking and dress nicely—they all ask me what I think of the American Woman, whether I read James Branch Cabell—which I don't—and what I feel about the Problem of the Leisured Woman. Answer them all as eloquently as possible, and make mental note to the effect that I have evidently never taken the subject of Women seriously enough, the only problem about them in England being why there are so many."
............

"Afternoon is spent, once more, in interviews, and am taken out to supper-party by Ella Wheelwright, who again appears in clothes that I have never seen before. At supper I sit next elderly gentleman wearing collar exactly like Mr. Gladstone's. He is slightly morose, tells me that times are not at all what they were—which I know already—and that there is No Society left in New York. This seems to me uncivil, as well as ungrateful, and I decline to assent. Elderly Gentleman is, however, entirely indifferent as to whether I agree with him or not, and merely goes on to say that no club would dream of admitting Jews to its membership. (This, if true, reflects no credit on clubs.) It also appears that, in his own house, cocktails, wireless, gramophones and modern young people are—like Jews—never admitted. Should like to think of something really startling to reply to all this, but he would almost certainly take no notice, even if I did, and I content myself with saying that that is Very Interesting—which is not, unfortunately, altogether true."

Wasn't this just before WWII, since the next book is on war? And since cars are as established a mode of transport as railways through this series, it's not circa WWI, which time people did still prefer carriages.

"Oct. 23rd.—Extraordinary week-end with Ella Wheelwright on Long Island, at superb country-house which she refers to as her cottage. She drives me out from New York very kindly, but should enjoy it a great deal more if she would look in front of her, instead of at me, whilst negotiating colossal and unceasing stream of traffic. ... "

"We gradually leave New York behind and creep into comparative country—bright golden trees, excite my admiration, together with occasional scarlet ones—Ella still talking—have not the least idea what about, but continue to ejaculate from time to time. Presently country mansion is reached, three large cars already standing in front of door, and I suggest that other visitors have arrived. But Ella says Oh no, one is her other car, and the remaining two belong to Charlie. ... "

"House is attractive—furniture and decorations very elaborate—am particularly struck by enormous pile of amber beads coiled carelessly on one corner of old oak refectory table, just where they catch the light—and I am taken up winding staircase, carpeted in rose colour.

"(Evidently no children, or else they use a separate staircase.)"

"Just as inferiority complex threatens to overwhelm me altogether, I am joined by Ella, who says that she is taking me to a tea-party. Tea-parties are A Feature of Life on Long Island, and it is essential, says Ella, that I should attend one.

"Everybody else turns out to be coming also, a complete platoon of cars is marshalled and we drive off, about two people to every car, and cover total distance of rather less than five hundred yards.

"Am by this time becoming accustomed to American version of a tea-party, and encounter cocktails and sandwiches with equanimity, but am much struck by scale on which the entertainment is conducted; large room being entirely filled by people, including young gentleman who is playing the piano violently and has extremely pretty girl on either side of him, each with an arm round his waist.

"It now becomes necessary to screech at really terrific pitch, and this everyone does. ... I sit on a sofa, next to slim woman in scarlet, and she screams into my ear, and tells me that she is a Southerner, and really lives in the South."
............

"October 25th.—English mail awaits me on return to New York Hotel and is handed to me by reception-clerk with agreeable comment to the effect that the Old Country hasn't forgotten me this time. Feel that I can't possibly wait to read mail till I get upstairs, but equally impossible to do so in entrance-hall, and am prepared to make a rush for the elevator when firm-looking elderly woman in black comes up and addresses me by name. Says that she is very glad indeed to know me. Her name is Katherine Ellen Blatt, which may not mean anything to me, but stands for quite a lot to a section of the American public.

"I try to look intelligent, and wonder whether to ask for further details or not, but something tells me that I am going to hear them anyway, so may as well make up my mind to it. Invite Miss Blatt to sit down and wait for me one moment whilst I go up and take off my hat—by which I really mean tear open letters from Robert and the children—but she says, No, she'd just love to come right upstairs with me. This she proceeds to do, and tells me on the way up that she writes articles for the women's magazines and that she makes quite a feature of describing English visitors to America, especially those with literary interests. The moment she heard that I was in New York she felt that she just had to come around right away and have a look at me (idea crosses my mind of replying that A Cat may look at a King, but this colloquialism probably unappreciated, and in any case Miss B. gives me no time)."

"Incredibly tedious half-hour ensues. Miss B. has a great deal to say, and fortunately seems to expect very little answer, as my mind is entirely fixed on letters lying unopened in my handbag. She tells me, amongst other things, that Noel Coward, Somerset Maugham—whom she calls "Willie", which I think profane—the Duchess of Atholl, Sir Gerald du Maurier and Miss Amy Johnson are all very dear friends of hers, and she would never dream of letting a year pass without going to England and paying each of them a visit. I say rather curtly that I don't know any of them, and add that I don't really feel I ought to take up any more of Miss Blatt's time. That, declares Miss Blatt, doesn't matter at all. I'm not to let that worry me for a moment. To hear about dear old London is just everything to her, and she is just crazy to be told whether I know her close friends, Ellen Wilkinson, Nancy Astor and Ramsay MacDonald. Frantic impulse assails me and I say, No, but that the Prince of Wales is a great friend of mine. Is that so? returns Miss Blatt quite unmoved. She herself met him for the first time last summer at Ascot and they had quite a talk. (If this really true, can only feel perfectly convinced that any talk there was emanated entirely from Miss B.)"

Extraordinary feeling of exhaustion comes over me, due partly to emotion and partly to visit of Miss Katherine Ellen Blatt, and I decide to go out and look at shop-windows on Fifth Avenue, which I do, and enjoy enormously."

"Send hurried postcards of Tallest Building in New York to Robin and Vicky respectively, tip everybody in Hotel who appears to expect it, and prepare myself for night journey to Chicago."
............

"Someone unknown takes a photograph, just as we leave station—this, says Arthur impressively, hasn't happened since the visit of Queen Marie of Roumania—and we drive off.

"Chicago strikes me as full of beautiful buildings, and cannot imagine why nobody ever says anything about this aspect of it. Do not like to ask anything about gangsters, and see no signs of their activities, but hope these may be revealed later, otherwise children will be seriously disappointed. The lake, which looks to me exactly like the sea, excites my admiration, and building in which Arthur's family lives turns out to be right in front of it.

"They receive me in kindest possible manner—I immediately fall in love with Arthur's mother—and suggest, with the utmost tact, that I should like a bath at once. (After one look in the glass, can well understand why this thought occurred to them.)

"Perceive myself to be incredibly dirty, dishevelled and out of repair generally, and do what I can, in enormous bedroom and bathroom, to rectify this. Hair, however, not improved by my making a mistake amongst unaccustomed number of bath-taps, and giving myself quite involuntary shower."

"Some of the friends—but not all—raise the Problem of the American Woman. Find myself as far as ever from having thought out intelligent answer to this, and have serious thoughts of writing dear Rose, and asking her to cable reply, if Problem is to pursue me wherever I go in the United States."

"Enormous cocktail-party is given by Arthur's mother, entirely in honour of New York friend—whom I now freely address as Billy—and myself. Bond of union immediately established between us, as we realise joint responsibility of proving ourselves worthy of all this attention."

"Complete stranger tells me that I am dining at her apartment to-morrow, another lady adds that she is looking forward to seeing me on Sunday at her home in the country, an elderly gentleman remarks that he is so glad he is to have the pleasure of giving me lunch and taking me round the Fair, and another complete, and charming, stranger informs me that Arthur and I are to have tea at her house when we visit Chicago University.

"Am beginning to feel slightly dazed—cocktails have undoubtedly contributed to this—but gratified beyond description at so much attention and kindness, and have hazy idea of writing letter home to explain that I am evidently of much greater importance than any of us have ever realised."

[Mary Teresa · Rating 4 out of 5]

The publisher sends the author to tour America. Elizabeth describes with humor how she imparts this news to her family and neighbors.
By now, EM Delafield is famous, travels First Class, and is photographed as she disembarks the ship at New York. What follows after she sets foot on US soil is a series of whirlwind tours about the continent, and a trip to Canada thrown in. First published in 1934, the USA was in the throes of the Depression. But the people charged with accompanying EM Delafield about – literary and wealthy Americans – do not seem affected by this at all. From her Diary, it would seem that the author wasn’t even conscious of the dire circumstances millions of Americans were in. She was whisked from mansion to mansion, from party to party, had to get used to being constantly served cocktails (wasn’t this during Prohibition?) and of course had to put up with an occasional annoying bore. She is however bowled over by the friendliness and hospitality of the Americans, even if they do run her ragged with speaking engagements, outings, events and ‘must-sees’, including Haarlem. A trip to the Alcott House and Museum brought her the most joy. Her successful tour concluded, her publishers have purchased her a Tourist Class ticket home, which I thought rather cheap of them. It was a good book, and very amusing, but doesn’t match the ones that went before.

[Ashley Lambert-Maberly · Rating 4 out of 5]

I just adore these. They're like stumbling across those expensive little bites of chocolate, only mistakenly priced at $2.99 for 24. There's no plot to speak of—and I can't tell if these are barely disguised autobiographical stories, or mostly fabricated imaginative digressions—and don't really care.

Have you read Beverley Nichol's? It's a bit like that. And because of our protagonist's candour, and the author's excellent writing, this is as fresh as ever. There is a lot of fiction from 100 years ago that's completely unreadable, but this person is recognizably human, real, and as alive as you or I. And it's funny, and funny (in writing) is so rare and precious. I read a lot of amusing, charming, sweet, whimsical, etc., but that's not the same as actually funny. (Nothing will hit the high point of Joe Keenan's Blue Heaven or E.F. Benson's Lucia series, but this comes near).

But if you don't know all that already, you haven't read her first book. And you may as well start there. But this is an entirely satisfactory follow-up.

(Note: 5 stars = amazing, wonderful, 4 = very good book, 3 = decent read, 2 = disappointing, 1 = awful, just awful.)

[Christine · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is my least favourite of the Provincial Lady books (although I have never read the Russian volume). The impressions of the USA (which I guess are those of Delafield herself) are quite interesting but the people seem to blur into a faceless mass. It is very favourable about the country and its inhabitants but she is only dealing with a tiny, wealthy subsection ot the massive population and it quickly grows pretty boring. The one section of the populace that she comes across that she has not really encountered in the UK is the non-white people who make up a lot of the service industry she encounters; the references she makes are not hugely offensive (I have seen far worse in Agatha Christie) but there is at least one expression used, common then, which reads badly today.

[cloudyskye · Rating 3 out of 5]

Very amusing, just like its predecessors. Comfort reading.

[Michael · Rating 4 out of 5]

(This was a shared read-- always great for comedic works like this one.)

The general consensus (in the handful of reviews I've glanced over) seems to be that, while still pleasingly amusing and witty, this is not quite as amusing as the earlier Provincial Lady books. I think I agree.

As for why this book is weaker, it's probably a number of small things in combination. Certain aspects are repetitive, for one. For another, the constant state of rush made me almost tired to read! (I probably need a nap, though, and that may have something to do with it.) The revolving door of characters didn't help, though that is an undeniable aspect of any whirlwind tour. (Ironically, when the P.L. was reunited with a familiar face-- Mademoiselle-- I was mildly irritated, because I'm not always adept at translating her French, even though context clues make up for any uncertainty.) Then there's the possibility that the author was running out of ideas and that the concept of the P.L. was getting slightly stale.

Quibbles aside, it was a thoroughly enjoyable read. Her casual observations of America and Americans were interesting-- her remarks on American hospitality and vitality. Though she didn't visit the South in her travels, there were at least a few encounters with Southern characters. Mostly all they did was insist that she must see the South and point out that people told them they hadn't lost their Southern accent even after so many years of living in the North. (...So basically we're reduced to our accent! (g) Well, that's ok. At least it wasn't insulting.)

In the end, I was as ready for her to get back home as she was, I think! Whew!  Even arm chair travels are enough to exhaust me, these days...

[Donnell · Rating 3 out of 5]

More of the delightful provincial lady. Now, however, rather than living in the shadow of Lady B and occasionally pawning her great aunt's diamond ring--she is being feted in America as the visiting British authoress.

She remains humble and endearing, though not quite as endearing as when she was more of an "every woman" as she is in the first book of the series.

Definitely will help one get over any nostalgia for 1930's train travel. Who wants to arrive in a new city at 5 a.m.? Or British train stations--apparently they are small and dirty, America's stations being much nicer.

Further support here to for the view--that 1930's middle class English housewives may not even be necessary. Consider there is no real problem back home though the wife and mom is in America for several months. The kids are at boarding school and there is a small army of servants to take care of the husband. Perhaps the husband may miss her--but he hardly spoke to her when she was around so may be not.

Update: The main thing the Provincial Lady wants to do in America is to visit the Alcott House in Concord, Mass! And then she sees the 1930's version of Little Women--which copied the Alcott house to create the March house--and sobs uncontrollably. Not sure about the sobbing at the movie, but her wanting to see the house and then the movie--she's a kindred spirit.

[Kathleen Vincenz · Rating 4 out of 5]

I do like the Provincial Lady! Her inability to control her world makes me nervous, but at least in this book, she has sufficient money. She's in America on a book/lecture tour from New York, Boston, Chicago, and back to New York. She writes in her journal of all the strangers she meets along the way, the tea that is forced upon her (she's British after all!), and the cocktails (even though it is prohibition - 1932). She meets quite the upper crust of America. Oh, the days when literature was important!

The end is the best when she returns home and lets down her guard and her dear Robert meets her on the ship. Worth waiting for.

I could not understand in the beginning how the bills for her home were sent to her in America. Was she was really going to mail checks back to England? I didn't think her dear Robert was that incapable but he might have been.

The copy I received from the library was lovely with occasional sketches of her or the people she meets.

[Skylar Dorset · Rating 4 out of 5]

I didn't like this sequel quite as much as I liked the first "Provincial Lady" book I read, but it was still delightful: charming and funny and an easy read. The Provincial Lady remains very relatable, even all these years later, and the people she encounters are people you'll recognize. And the social situations are also recognizably awkward, varnished with the piquancy of having to change for dinner and ruining one's best hat. This book was also especially fun because she's touring America. Her observations on cities like Boston, Washington, and Chicago were fascinating and amusing, and I loved that, everywhere she went, she was asked about the Problem of Women in America. It's almost a hundred years later, and we're still talking about that.

[Julie · Rating 4 out of 5]

The third in the Provincial Lady series.

In this one, the PL uses her diary to record her activities on a several month long book tour of the US in the 1930s. She visits the World Fair in Chicago, a speakeasy in New York, the Alcott House in Boston and various other sites along the way. She tells us about the entertaining and frustrating people whom she meets and about her thoughts on travel - especially night travel.

This was a funny book, more in keeping with the first in the series than the second. In the second story she was often abrasive, but in the third she was her charming, witty, sometime less than confident self again.

[Susan · Rating 5 out of 5]

It's hard to know whether to classify this as fiction or nonfiction, but it's always enlightening to read an intelligent traveler's view of your own country, even if the trip was almost 80 years in the past. Delafield's never-named narrator (and Bill Pronzini thinks he started it!) goes for a book tour to the exotic United States, being introduced to many fine people and a few pests, blossoming--or suffering--under the famed American hospitality, and being forced to drink tea, which she really doesn't care for, because her hosts think all Englishwomen love it.

[Malia · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is the third in the Provincial Lady series and another witty addition. The Lady travels to America on a book tour and describes with her usual kind but clever way what and whom she encounters on her trip. The only reason I am giving it four stars instead of five, is that I missed her interactions with Roberts, her children and household staff. Still, the story was amusing and light-hearted, just what I was looking for.

Find more reviews and bookish fun at http://www.princessandpen.com

[Jennifer · Rating 2 out of 5]

This is an interesting book as a time capsule of an English person's visit to US/Canada in the 1930's. She meets some funny characters and genuinely enjoys soaking up the cultural differences on a whirlwind tour. There is an aside where she notes that it is impossible to be authentic and mean what you say when you are forced to meet so many people in a whirl and that rings true. Despite the good cross cultural material, this book isn't quite as quick and funny as the prior ones. It may be that the experience for her didn't lend itself to her humor as well as her village and family life.

[Kathy · Rating 3 out of 5]

Although Delafield's "character" is traveling through a new country, she does not lose her wit and cynicism on human nature. I especially liked following her adventure through the Chicago World's Fair; mainly because I work nearby the original grounds. It is only slightly less awesome than the previous two books in the series, but still an enjoyable read. I am looking forward to reading the next one, The Provincial Lady in Wartime.

[Susanna · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fantastic descriptions of travel in the mid-30s that conveys not only the locations but the inherent elements of travel. Slight confusions as to where you are and whom you are speaking with, lengthy journeys and trying times. Laughed out loud at some of the caustic remarks as I recognized only too well the conversations of "you must see x. No trip is complete without it," the superficial chats and small disasters.

[Robert Leatherby · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book documents the travel of the Provincial lady through America. I preferred this book to the first in the series but did not enjoy it as much as the second, owing to the removal of the majority of the supporting cast from the story. Its interesting to see what the British thought of Americans and vice versa in the 1930s and there are a number of running jokes and themes throughout the book relating to American hospitality, cocktails, tea and American fiction.

[Chris Passingham · Rating 2 out of 5]

what a disappointment. I honestly believed that this book would be as good as the others in the series I have read. It was little more than a list of tea parties, and lectures peopled by rather tiresome characters. I think the trouble is that she is portrayed as a respected literary figure rather than any middle class woman in the 1930s

[Gareth Evans · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Provincial Lady is still as charming and observant as in her earlier books, but travelling around the US promoting a book is not as much fun as rural life in England or holiday int in France. Overall it is more enjoyable for the historical perspective than the sharply observed humour of its predecessors.