Étudiant boursier à Oxford, Eustache Cherrington doit apprendre à concilier ses études et les joyeuses soirées entre amis. Sa soeur Hilda est devenue directrice d'une clinique. Sa réussite, sa beauté et jusqu'à son étrangeté fascinent les camarades d'Eustache. Quand Dick Staveley, qu'ils n'ont pas revu depuis l'enfance, les invite à passer le week-end chez ses parents à Anchorstone, Eustache s'inquiète de l'image qu'ils renverront aux autres invités - Hilda si solide, et lui si fragile... Alors qu'il n'aspirait qu'à se promener sur la plage, Hilda part faire un tour en avion avec Dick. "Avez-vous toujours cet air-là quand vous expédiez votre soeur dans le néant ?" plaisante lady Nelly, la charmante tante de Dick, en observant le décollage.Deuxième tome de la trilogie Eustache & Hilda, Le sixième ciel nous conduit dans le labyrinthe de la personnalité d'Eustache, qui contient autant de portes que la propriété des Staveley. À la lueur d'une bougie, on le suit dans l'obscurité des couloirs, scrutant avec curiosité les personnages qui gravitent autour de cette figure de proue qu'est Hilda.
Leslie Poles Hartley (1895-1972) was born in Whittlesey, Cambridgeshire, and educated at Harrow and Balliol College, Oxford. For more than thirty years from 1923 he was an indefatigable fiction reviewer for periodicals including the Spectator and Saturday Review. His first book, Night Fears (1924) was a collection of short stories; but it was not until the publication of Eustace and Hilda (1947), which won the James Tait Black prize, that Hartley gained widespread recognition as an author. His other novels include The Go-Between (1953), which was adapted into an internationally-successful film starring Julie Christie and Alan Bates, and The Hireling (1957), the film version of which won the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival.
The continued adventures, if adventures is the right word, of Eustace and Hilda first met in The Shrimp and the Anemone. It's now post WWI and Eustace is at Oxford, Hilda is running a clinic for crippled children while baby Barbara is now a married woman. If you are familiar with L.P. Hartley then you will know that plot isn't his main concern, as such there isn't one. Well not to speak of, Eustace talks Hilda in to going for a country house weekend with the minor aristocracy of the first book... I was considering ticking the hide review because of spoilers box at the bottom because I have told you everything that happens plotwise. However plot doesn't matter, what matters for Hartley is the inner life of his characters and the way in which people see each other and Eustace is the person who we learn most about here. According to Hilda "You know how apt he (Eustace) is to see things from someone else's point of view. It's partly laziness, because he doesn't like to make a fuss, and partly a morbid feeling that merely by asserting your rights you put yourself in the wrong. He doesn't really believe that justice could be on his side, which is as stupid as thinking you are always in the right, and much less human." While Hartley says this of Eustace "He had a strong sense of what other people would think tiresome, and was influenced more by that than by his own grievances, he did complain, to outsiders, if he thought he could make his sufferings sound funny" And "Eustace shrank from being taken seriously; he liked to think he did not matter, for then the disappointment he was fated to cause would not matter either." If you can bare to spend the length of this book inside the mind of a young man so utterly devoid of confidence or self respect, one so totally in awe of others who is forever seeking to fly under the radar then you will get a whole lot out of this book. Hartley again proves himself a master of putting peoples innermost thoughts on the page and everyone must surely have moments of recognition through this book. The reason it only gets 3 stars is mainly down to my own dislike of the country house weekend that is so often depicted and so often gets my back up. The only people I have anytime for in such settings are Jeeves and Wooster.
This is the second book in the 'Eustace and Hilda' trilogy, which begins with 'The Shrimp and the Anemone'. Hilda, strong-willed, capable, and rather forbidding, is four years older than her brother Eustace. At twenty-eight, and in the aftermath of WWI, Hilda is in charge of a clinic for crippled [sic] children. Eustace meanwhile is at Oxford University - a gifted but rather half-hearted student.
Eustace has been shielded from most of the unpleasantnesses of life. A legacy left to him by an old lady he befriended as a child is largely responsible for this. His heart damaged during childhood, this organ seems weak metaphorically as well as literally - he is a timid young man, over-conscious of what others think of him, and with a fondness for stronger characters, notably the socially superior Staveley family.
Hilda and Eustace's visit to the Staveley home is a thoroughly uncomfortable experience. Eustace is constantly aware of the difference in social class between himself and Hilda, and the Staveleys. It is impossible not to be reminded of the central image in the first book of the trilogy - a shrimp being devoured by a sea anemone. Eustace and Hilda try to save the shrimp, but their intervention causes the death of the anemone.
The strength of this book is not that of a tightly-plotted, dramatic story. It is rather the subtlety with which Hartley draws his characters, and the inferences he gently draws.
This is the second book in the Eustace and Hilda trilogy and is a slow and gentle book, not for those who want excitement and action but beautifully written. The story, if you can call it that, is about the relationship between painfully introverted Eustace and his beautiful, confident older sister, Hilda. The setting reminds me of Brideshead Revisited, the posh English country house with it's old traditions and etiquette and Eustace reminds me of Mark from the TV comedy Peepshow.
‘The Sixth Heaven’ (1946), the second volume in L.P. Hartley’s ‘Eustace and Hilda’ trilogy, reveals a darker aspect of the boy we first met in ‘The Shrimp and the Anemone.’
In that first volume, Eustace’s mixture of innocence and hesitant defiance toward his hectoring elder sister so charmed the elderly Miss Fothergill that she left him a fortune. This inheritance was intended to see him through college and provide a "start in life" otherwise beyond his reach.
Now in his early twenties at Oxford, Eustace is dazzled by the natural air of proprietorship his peers seem to possess. While his own family sits just above the level of tradesmen, he is surrounded by the landed gentry, the "golden boys" of the age. This is not a matter of wealth alone, for Eustace is far wealthier than they are, but simply that he lacks the confidence that comes from knowing who your grandfather's grandfather was.
To him, homes like Anchorstone are absolute wonders of architecture and history; he longs to be accepted by their inhabitants. This envy marks his true loss of innocence, creating a moral ambiguity that colours the rest of his life. Realising he can never truly belong, he projects his ambition onto Hilda, believing his assertive sister could not only hold her own among them but lead them.
When Eustace receives an invitation to a Staveley house party, he believes he is finally coming into his own. In reality, he is moving from one system of control to another, one far more indifferent to his well-being than Hilda ever was. While Hilda’s control stems from a suffocating biological devotion, figures like Dick Staveley and Lady Nelly act out of ruthless self-interest.
Lacking any aggressive instinct themselves, the siblings appear socially inept. Both become victims in a room full of socialites who hide their sharp edges behind etiquette, toying with Eustace as a cat might a mouse.
In this company, Hilda carries herself with a high hand, provoking a palpable loathing in Lady Staveley, while Eustace is consumed by self-doubt. His character is perfectly captured when he frantically strews his clothes across his room, desperate not to keep his grand acquaintances waiting. When he rings for a servant, he is met with a stinging rebuke: "We wondered where you had been brought up, sir... Not in a gentleman’s house, I said, believe me."
Eustace’s love for beauty and comfort serves as a shield against taking action. His moral flaw is a tendency to retreat into a dream world to avoid real-world consequences. He actively pushes Hilda toward the untrustworthy Dick Staveley, blinded by the family’s standing. By focusing on the wonderful prospect of Hilda as mistress of Anchorstone, he evades his moral responsibility, secretly hoping the estate’s glory might, in some nebulous way, finally belong to him.
As the novel nears its end, Dick Staveley offers a "joyride" in his aeroplane. Whether because the plane holds only one passenger or out of deference to something in Dick’s tone, Hilda volunteers, displacing Dick’s acknowledged longtime girlfriend, Monica Staveley, who would have enjoyed the time with the elusive Dick.
Left behind, Eustace feels a complex mixture of elation at Hilda’s absence and a genuine fear for her safety at Dick’s hands. He begins to feel that both he and she are being strung along like puppets by a puppetmaster. His insecurity intensifies when the plane fails to land for over five hours instead of an expected half hour.. The house party begins to suggest it was "too bad" of "Miss—Miss—now whatshername" to keep Dick up so long, remarking that Monica could have been trusted to keep him in check. Eustace is forced to smile through these veiled and open insults to maintain the "etiquette" he so desires.
In those final, agonizing moments after the couple returns, Eustace’s fragile confidence is utterly shattered. Over dinner, Lord Staveley, either relieved or savagely satirical, calls for a toast to "the happy couple." Hilda takes the inference of an engagement for granted, even handing her hat to her host to put away in a gesture of belonging. Eustace, however, can only sit in miserable silence as the book ends.
The "sixth heaven" of social acceptance proves a mirage that evaporates under the Staveleys' cold indifference. While Hilda stands flushed with a misplaced, triumphant confidence, tragically unaware of her role as a mere diversion, Eustace is once again reduced to the demoralised little boy of The Shrimp and the Anemone. The ultimate proof of his failure lies in Dick Staveley’s bored and casual air; for all of his orchestrating, Eustace has sacrificed his sister's reputation to a man who is merely passing the time, leaving the siblings more deeply entrenched than ever in the same patterns of dominance and submission that defined their childhood
Even though I was more prepared for the pacing of this book after having read The Shrimp and the Anemone, it still took me a few chapters to get into it, but that probably says more about me as a reader than it does about the book — I wanted to figure out what was the conflict that would drive the body of the novel, but there is no specific conflict, it is simply a snapshot of a life at a specific point in time. Once I could wrap my mind around that, I got through the rest of the book in an instant.
Eustace is not much of a likeable protagonist because he is too real, his point of view too transparent, it lets us see at once his weaknesses. In this book, he's lost the charm of childhood and is instead presented as a grown man with more money than he needs, who has let the inheritance turn him into someone who can just procrastinate through life, the contrast with Hilda starker than ever. However, it is through Hilda, through his devotion for her, that I found a point of contact with him.
Once again, Hartley triumphs at portraying siblinghood in a way that gets me deeply. They have a bond no one can quite understand, not even Barbara, because she was a baby when they were children, creating worlds, sharing secrets and games, and more importantly, defining their roles in relation to each other. It is compelling to see these roles challenged, and I can't wait to finish this trilogy and see where these two land after being thrown into the whirlwind of adulthood.
In The Sixth Heaven, Eustace and Hilda are now young adults. Eustace has gifted Hilda half of his inheritance from Mrs. Fothergill, so she has started her own children’s clinic, while Eustace is a student at Oxford. Though Eustace is a somewhat popular student, he struggles to complete his studies. A new source of hope appears in the form of an invitation to their old acquaintance Dick Staveley’s house.
I highly enjoyed reading The Sixth Heaven. I love how Hartley writes anxiety. Eustace’s anxiety gives the novel a disconcerting atmosphere.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t find substantial conversations about the novel online, so I had to use the Internet Archive to look at a literature encyclopedia to find critical analyses about the novel. Upon reading the analyses, I finally understand what the trilogy is about—
The Sixth Heaven is enjoyable reading. I’m excited to read the final novel!
Part two of the trilogy, and probably the weakest part. Parts 1&3 are absolutely brilliant but this didn't quite shine as brightly. I still enjoyed it and it works as a bridge between the childhood and later life. It still has some of the fantastic language but I didn't feel that Eustace at Oxford was as fully formed as he was in Norfolk and Venice.
Ok so this is actually a trilogy. But I was so annoyed by the trajectory of the narrative I don’t want to read the final one. Kind of a shame because I was loving the first one! Maybe should have been one book imo…
Mlle Alice, pouvez-vous nous raconter votre rencontre avec Le Sixième Ciel ? "J'ai trouvé le premier tome charmant et le petit Eustache si attachant que j'avais hâte de le retrouver à l'âge adulte. Et comme les éditions de la Table Ronde ont eu la gentillesse de m'envoyer la série complète, il ne me restait plus qu'à m'élancer dans ce sixième ciel."
Dites-nous en un peu plus sur son histoire... "Eustache est maintenant étudiant à Oxford, la guerre est finie et comme il l'avait promis, il a partagé sa fortune avec sa soeur. Hilda, elle, dirige un hôpital de sa main de fer et garde toujours un oeil sur son frère..."
Mais que s'est-il exactement passé entre vous ? "Encore une lecture bien plaisante mais plus que jamais on sent la catastrophe arriver et j'ai trouvé parfois le temps un peu long. Je ne me suis pas ennuyée pour autant, parce que cela se lit rapidement et facilement mais on sent bien qu'il s'agit d'un tome deux, d'un tome de transition et il est parfois difficile d'apprécier les petits riens lorsqu'on sent qu'ils n'ont que vocation à faire durer le plaisir, à détourner notre attention de ce qui se profile à l'horizon. J'ai bien sûr pris plaisir à retrouver Eustache et Hilda et à apprendre ce qui leur était arrivé pendant ces quelques années. Cela dit, les traits que l'on pouvait trouver attendrissants chez des enfants pourraient vite devenir agaçants, s'ils persistent, chez des adultes mais je suppose que c'est tout l'enjeu du dernier tome et de l'évènement qui va venir, une nouvelle fois, impacter leurs destins. J'ai aimé également que l'on entr'aperçoive les douleurs d'Hilda, ce qu'elle a enduré pour son frère, et qui explique la façon dont elle le traite, mais c'était bien peu tout de même. J'espère, et je le redoute à la fois, que l'on prendra toute la mesure de ce personnage dans le troisième opus."
Et comment cela s'est-il fini ? "Ce tome ne se suffit pas vraiment à lui-même et je vais rapidement enchaîner avec le suivant. J'ai juste très peur de découvrir comment tout cela va finir."