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Από τον μετρ του αγγλικού γκόθικ Patrick MacGrath, ένα πολυεπίπεδο μυθιστόρημα για τον ύπουλο ρόλο της πολιτικής ιδεολογίας, μια ανθρώπινη ιστορία με πολύ σασπένς στη Μ. Βρετανία αμέσως μετά τον Β΄ Παγκόσμιο πόλεμο.
376 pages, Paperback
First published September 7, 2017
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673 people want to read
About the author
Patrick McGrath
96 books562 followersPatrick McGrath was born in London and grew up near Broadmoor Hospital where his father was Medical Superintendent. He was educated at Stonyhurst College. He is a British novelist whose work has been categorized as gothic fiction. He is married to actress Maria Aitken and lives in New York City.
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July 1, 2017
I have never read anything by Patrick McGrath before and found this an intriguing read. It is set in 1947, with Britain battered and poverty stricken after the war. Joan Grice is the ‘Wardrobe Mistress,’ of the title, who runs the wardrobe of the Beaumont Theatre. Her daughter, Vera, is an actress, married to former impresario, Julius Glass. When we first meet Joan, it is shortly after the death of her husband, actor Charlie Grice, at a funeral attended by much of the theatre community.
Indeed, this novel will undoubtedly interest lovers of the theatre; narrated as it is by a female chorus, who look on at unfolding events. The atmosphere of post-war London is also well realised, with rationing tightening and the city frozen and bomb damaged. Joan is grieving deeply for Charlie and feels that she first hears his voice and then glimpses him in his understudy, Daniel Francis (whose real name is Frank Stone).
As we learn about what happened before Charlie died – including Joan’s guilt that she sent him to speak to their daughter’s husband, when he had the accident which killed him – there is also the developing relationship between Joan and Frank. With clothing hard to come by, Joan begins to offer Frank her husband’s suits. While altering them, she comes across something which causes her great disquiet.
Overall, I felt this novel was a little confusing. The really interesting part of the book, for me, started quite far in- when we uncover some of the back stories of the characters and Joan realises her husband’s fascist past. As she realises how little she knew the man she was married to, we hear of the time before the war, with Oswald Mosley and the BUF, hear the stories of Jewish refugees and see Joan’s changing views of her marriage. This would be a good choice for reading groups, with lots to discuss and I really loved the background and the vivid depiction of London in the aftermath of the war. I received a copy of this book from the publisher, via NetGalley, for review.
Indeed, this novel will undoubtedly interest lovers of the theatre; narrated as it is by a female chorus, who look on at unfolding events. The atmosphere of post-war London is also well realised, with rationing tightening and the city frozen and bomb damaged. Joan is grieving deeply for Charlie and feels that she first hears his voice and then glimpses him in his understudy, Daniel Francis (whose real name is Frank Stone).
As we learn about what happened before Charlie died – including Joan’s guilt that she sent him to speak to their daughter’s husband, when he had the accident which killed him – there is also the developing relationship between Joan and Frank. With clothing hard to come by, Joan begins to offer Frank her husband’s suits. While altering them, she comes across something which causes her great disquiet.
Overall, I felt this novel was a little confusing. The really interesting part of the book, for me, started quite far in- when we uncover some of the back stories of the characters and Joan realises her husband’s fascist past. As she realises how little she knew the man she was married to, we hear of the time before the war, with Oswald Mosley and the BUF, hear the stories of Jewish refugees and see Joan’s changing views of her marriage. This would be a good choice for reading groups, with lots to discuss and I really loved the background and the vivid depiction of London in the aftermath of the war. I received a copy of this book from the publisher, via NetGalley, for review.
December 1, 2017
McGrath ha scritto Follia. E basta.
November 19, 2017
Che libro sconvolgente!
È una pièce teatrale dentro la pièce.
Ambientato nel 1947 a Londra,
è la storia di Joan e Grice. Lui è un eccellente ed eccentrico attore teatrale, che, in seguito a un incidente a teatro, muore. Joan, la vedova, ebrea, pur essendo stata sposata a lui per più di venticinque anni, non arriva a conoscerlo fino in fondo. Ma l’amore rende ciechi e il lutto di una persona amata è difficile da metabolizzare. Così, Joan, fa “rivivere” il marito, attraverso i suoi abiti che fa indossare a un Daniel Francis, un attore povero e ambizioso. E lo spirito del marito continua a vivere chiuso in quel guardaroba.
Fino a quando un giorno Joan scopre la verità, chiusa in una valigia.
“Sospettava forse già allora che ci fosse una strana incompletezza, qualcosa di nascosto, un’assenza; ciò che bisognava affrontare e non lo era ancora stato? In mezzo a tutti quei ricordi era possibile che fosse stata sorda a una vocina che le diceva di cercare meglio, più in profondità, ma che l’avesse o no sentita, quando tornò in camera e tirò fuori il baule vuoto, fu soltanto allora che vide una valigia marrone cacciata nell’angolo più lontano del guardaroba.”
Una spilletta svelerà la vera natura di Gricey. Una spilletta sarà alla fine fatale.
Lo storify della lettura condivisa su Twitter
https://twitter.com/ventaglip/status/...
È una pièce teatrale dentro la pièce.
Ambientato nel 1947 a Londra,
è la storia di Joan e Grice. Lui è un eccellente ed eccentrico attore teatrale, che, in seguito a un incidente a teatro, muore. Joan, la vedova, ebrea, pur essendo stata sposata a lui per più di venticinque anni, non arriva a conoscerlo fino in fondo. Ma l’amore rende ciechi e il lutto di una persona amata è difficile da metabolizzare. Così, Joan, fa “rivivere” il marito, attraverso i suoi abiti che fa indossare a un Daniel Francis, un attore povero e ambizioso. E lo spirito del marito continua a vivere chiuso in quel guardaroba.
Fino a quando un giorno Joan scopre la verità, chiusa in una valigia.
“Sospettava forse già allora che ci fosse una strana incompletezza, qualcosa di nascosto, un’assenza; ciò che bisognava affrontare e non lo era ancora stato? In mezzo a tutti quei ricordi era possibile che fosse stata sorda a una vocina che le diceva di cercare meglio, più in profondità, ma che l’avesse o no sentita, quando tornò in camera e tirò fuori il baule vuoto, fu soltanto allora che vide una valigia marrone cacciata nell’angolo più lontano del guardaroba.”
Una spilletta svelerà la vera natura di Gricey. Una spilletta sarà alla fine fatale.
Lo storify della lettura condivisa su Twitter
https://twitter.com/ventaglip/status/...
May 14, 2018
Una pièce nella pièce è questa la descrizione che meglio si addice a questo romanzo di Patrick McGrath.
Oltre alle scorie e alle macerie che la guerra, a distanza di due anni, porta con sé, i protagonisti e, in particolar modo, la signora Joan, deve affrontare il trama della perdita, dell'elaborazione del lutto del marito, noto attore teatrale. Un lutto difficile da accettare soprattutto se l'attore che interpreta lo stesso ruolo di tuo marito è uguale a lui, come se il suo spirito vivesse nel nuovo personaggio.
"Eppure sembrava che lei riuscisse a pensare entrambe le cose insieme, che era morto e che era vivo, nel corpo di un altro".
McGrath trascina il lettore nella mente dei suoi protagonisti, mostrandoci il peggio di ognuno di loro, un un percorso tra l'ossessione, la passione, il dolore e la follia, come ormai lo scrittore ha abituato il so pubblico. Un vero thriller psicologico ricco di mistero, di suspence dove nulla è come sembra e dove è tutta una messinscena come i vari ruoli che ogni attore è chiamato a interpretare nel grande palcoscenico della vita.
Oltre alle scorie e alle macerie che la guerra, a distanza di due anni, porta con sé, i protagonisti e, in particolar modo, la signora Joan, deve affrontare il trama della perdita, dell'elaborazione del lutto del marito, noto attore teatrale. Un lutto difficile da accettare soprattutto se l'attore che interpreta lo stesso ruolo di tuo marito è uguale a lui, come se il suo spirito vivesse nel nuovo personaggio.
"Eppure sembrava che lei riuscisse a pensare entrambe le cose insieme, che era morto e che era vivo, nel corpo di un altro".
McGrath trascina il lettore nella mente dei suoi protagonisti, mostrandoci il peggio di ognuno di loro, un un percorso tra l'ossessione, la passione, il dolore e la follia, come ormai lo scrittore ha abituato il so pubblico. Un vero thriller psicologico ricco di mistero, di suspence dove nulla è come sembra e dove è tutta una messinscena come i vari ruoli che ogni attore è chiamato a interpretare nel grande palcoscenico della vita.
August 29, 2017
Firstly, as an aside, can I say how good it is to come across a book blurb that is concise and doesn’t give too much away! Secondly, can I admit this is the first book I’ve read by Patrick McGrath but, on the strength of The Wardrobe Mistress, it certainly won’t be the last.
The book opens at the funeral of Charlie ‘Gricey’ Grice and the reader is immediately introduced to the ‘chorus’ who will be the book’s narrators, omnipresent onlookers to all the action. There is a sense that they already know what’s going to happen, that events are playing out in front of them as if in a play.
Gricey’s widow, Joan, is grief stricken at his death, finding solace in the touch and smell of his clothes, imagining she can hear his voice and sure she can sense his lingering presence. Her belief that Gricey’s spirit lives on is confirmed by the uncanny ability of the actor who takes over Gricey’s part in the play – Frank Stone – to enact the role exactly as her husband did – every mannerism, gesture and mode of speech exactly as he would have performed it. But, of course, everyone else knows Gricey is dead.
‘It’s certainly what we thought, and to think otherwise was mad, frankly, and heartbreaking too, poor Joan. But it seemed she could think both things at once, that he was dead, and alive too, in the body of another man.’
Frank’s performance – his ability to inhabit so perfectly the role performed by Gricey – is the spark that brings him and Joan together. In addition, Frank’s obvious poverty as a not very successful actor and his aura of neediness awaken something in Joan. Only later does she begin to detect the fierce streak of ambition under the surface.
And it’s not long before Joan discovers that her beloved Gricey wasn’t the man she thought he was. He’d concealed things from her, things that would have made her think quite differently about him: ‘Gricey – the hypocrite. Gricey the deceiver. The betrayer. The charlatan, the traitor. Oh, he was a character all right…’ It becomes apparent that his life outside the theatre was as much a performance as when he was on stage: ‘Their life together now seemed nothing but an elaborate performance of pretence and disguise, yes, his whole life a performance, he’d never stopped performing…’
Joan’s disgust when she finds out the truth leads her down a path that will have far-reaching consequences and only increase her sense of grief, loneliness, betrayal and desperation. ‘It was another kind of grief she felt, and far worse, with what she thought of as the second death. Her sorrow now was for herself, that he hadn’t allowed her to hold him in her memory as she would have liked to, but had left her with only a mask.’
The author evocatively conjures up the atmosphere of post-war London: the food shortages, the cold, the grime, and the people struggling to get by. ‘Magnificent in victory, oh yes – and bankrupt. Morally magnificent and economically broke. Exhausted. Oh, England. Smog, ruins, drab clothes, bad food, bomb craters and rats. There was work to be had – demolition.’ And although the war may be over, it isn’t the end of the evil forces that caused it or the need to fight against extremism and hate (a need which, sadly, continues to this day).
Against this backdrop, it’s easy to see the lure of the theatre with its bright lights and ability – if only temporary – to transport the audience to another place, away from the everyday struggle to earn a living, to keep warm. If it isn’t too obvious a metaphor, the theatre plays a key role in the book along with the recurrent theme of performance. The craft of the actors on stage and the thrill of live performance is celebrated.
‘He had of course that fierce bright fire in his eyes, it was always there when they came off stage at the end of the night, when they were full of life and of themselves.’
The role of the backstage staff, like Joan, proud of her skill as a wardrobe mistress and ruling the sewing room with a rod of iron, is recognised as well.
‘For it was an assault, what was suffered by the costumes in which actors stepped out each night then ripped off between scenes, until Joan and her girls took them in hand, applied sharp needles and, whispering soft words, brought them back good as new before sending them out to be ravaged again the next night.’
And as the book shows, it’s not only actors who use costume as a means of creating a character for themselves. Nowhere is the single-minded intensity needed to be a successful actor more effectively conveyed than in the character of Vera, Joan’s daughter. In Vera, the insecurities of an actor preparing for performance are writ large. One moment she’s withdrawing into her own private space and the next she’s almost preying on others to harvest the real-life experiences needed to produce her stage performance.
The Wardrobe Mistress had it all for me: atmospheric period setting, intriguing mystery and well-developed characters. I also enjoyed its very moving exploration of grief and betrayal, its joyful celebration of the theatre and insightful examination of the act of performance. Highly recommended.
I received an advance reader copy courtesy of NetGalley and publishers Cornerstone, return for an honest review.
The book opens at the funeral of Charlie ‘Gricey’ Grice and the reader is immediately introduced to the ‘chorus’ who will be the book’s narrators, omnipresent onlookers to all the action. There is a sense that they already know what’s going to happen, that events are playing out in front of them as if in a play.
Gricey’s widow, Joan, is grief stricken at his death, finding solace in the touch and smell of his clothes, imagining she can hear his voice and sure she can sense his lingering presence. Her belief that Gricey’s spirit lives on is confirmed by the uncanny ability of the actor who takes over Gricey’s part in the play – Frank Stone – to enact the role exactly as her husband did – every mannerism, gesture and mode of speech exactly as he would have performed it. But, of course, everyone else knows Gricey is dead.
‘It’s certainly what we thought, and to think otherwise was mad, frankly, and heartbreaking too, poor Joan. But it seemed she could think both things at once, that he was dead, and alive too, in the body of another man.’
Frank’s performance – his ability to inhabit so perfectly the role performed by Gricey – is the spark that brings him and Joan together. In addition, Frank’s obvious poverty as a not very successful actor and his aura of neediness awaken something in Joan. Only later does she begin to detect the fierce streak of ambition under the surface.
And it’s not long before Joan discovers that her beloved Gricey wasn’t the man she thought he was. He’d concealed things from her, things that would have made her think quite differently about him: ‘Gricey – the hypocrite. Gricey the deceiver. The betrayer. The charlatan, the traitor. Oh, he was a character all right…’ It becomes apparent that his life outside the theatre was as much a performance as when he was on stage: ‘Their life together now seemed nothing but an elaborate performance of pretence and disguise, yes, his whole life a performance, he’d never stopped performing…’
Joan’s disgust when she finds out the truth leads her down a path that will have far-reaching consequences and only increase her sense of grief, loneliness, betrayal and desperation. ‘It was another kind of grief she felt, and far worse, with what she thought of as the second death. Her sorrow now was for herself, that he hadn’t allowed her to hold him in her memory as she would have liked to, but had left her with only a mask.’
The author evocatively conjures up the atmosphere of post-war London: the food shortages, the cold, the grime, and the people struggling to get by. ‘Magnificent in victory, oh yes – and bankrupt. Morally magnificent and economically broke. Exhausted. Oh, England. Smog, ruins, drab clothes, bad food, bomb craters and rats. There was work to be had – demolition.’ And although the war may be over, it isn’t the end of the evil forces that caused it or the need to fight against extremism and hate (a need which, sadly, continues to this day).
Against this backdrop, it’s easy to see the lure of the theatre with its bright lights and ability – if only temporary – to transport the audience to another place, away from the everyday struggle to earn a living, to keep warm. If it isn’t too obvious a metaphor, the theatre plays a key role in the book along with the recurrent theme of performance. The craft of the actors on stage and the thrill of live performance is celebrated.
‘He had of course that fierce bright fire in his eyes, it was always there when they came off stage at the end of the night, when they were full of life and of themselves.’
The role of the backstage staff, like Joan, proud of her skill as a wardrobe mistress and ruling the sewing room with a rod of iron, is recognised as well.
‘For it was an assault, what was suffered by the costumes in which actors stepped out each night then ripped off between scenes, until Joan and her girls took them in hand, applied sharp needles and, whispering soft words, brought them back good as new before sending them out to be ravaged again the next night.’
And as the book shows, it’s not only actors who use costume as a means of creating a character for themselves. Nowhere is the single-minded intensity needed to be a successful actor more effectively conveyed than in the character of Vera, Joan’s daughter. In Vera, the insecurities of an actor preparing for performance are writ large. One moment she’s withdrawing into her own private space and the next she’s almost preying on others to harvest the real-life experiences needed to produce her stage performance.
The Wardrobe Mistress had it all for me: atmospheric period setting, intriguing mystery and well-developed characters. I also enjoyed its very moving exploration of grief and betrayal, its joyful celebration of the theatre and insightful examination of the act of performance. Highly recommended.
I received an advance reader copy courtesy of NetGalley and publishers Cornerstone, return for an honest review.
April 27, 2018
Crikey. Greek chorus narrator, magical realism, echos of Shakespeare, lots of play with style and narration ends up in a holy mess.
September 12, 2025
Le atmosfere cupe e neogotiche della Londra dell’immediato dopoguerra fanno da sfondo alla storia di Joan Grice, direttrice di un guardaroba costumi di un teatro londinese. L’improvvisa morte del marito, eccentrico e stimato attore teatrale, seguita dalla scoperta di un segreto che lo riguarda, getterà Joan in una spirale crescente di paure, ossessioni e dolore.
Nonostante le buone premesse e una storia intrigante, manca il raffinato meccanismo narrativo e la maniacale attenzione al dettaglio psicologico presenti in altri romanzi dello stesso autore.
Una lettura tutto sommato piacevole, sebbene il libro sia lontano dai migliori di McGrath (penso a Follia o al Morbo di Haggard).
Nonostante le buone premesse e una storia intrigante, manca il raffinato meccanismo narrativo e la maniacale attenzione al dettaglio psicologico presenti in altri romanzi dello stesso autore.
Una lettura tutto sommato piacevole, sebbene il libro sia lontano dai migliori di McGrath (penso a Follia o al Morbo di Haggard).
September 28, 2017
Set in the freezing winter of 1947 in post-war austerity London, this dark tale of the theatre is both compelling and haunting. It opens with the funeral of Charlie Grice, one of the great actors of his day. Gathered round his graveside are the principal characters of the novel, his widow Joan, a wardrobe mistress, his daughter Vera, herself a talented actress, her husband Julian, a theatre impresario and finally Frank, Charlie’s understudy. And in the background the chorus, who narrate the action and comment on it. Frank has studied Charlie’s performance so thoroughly and his impersonation is so convincing that Joan begins to think that Charlie has come back to haunt her - and in a way he has, as secrets and deceptions gradually become uncovered and the tone darkens as comedy turns to tragedy. The sense of time and place is expertly portrayed and the evocation of post-war London with its lingering threat of Fascism is chilling indeed. It’s a multi-layered tale and as each layer is peeled away the reader is drawn inexorably into another world. A great read, absorbing, beautifully written, expertly paced and thoroughly enjoyable.
February 18, 2018
Autore: britannico (1950). Romanzo.
Non so se l’amore di McGrath per donne un po’ squilibrate dipenda:
1)- dal fatto che i manicomi da lui frequentati avessero più pazienti femminili che maschili;
2)- dal più o meno conscio desiderio di compiacere un pubblico che ormai si aspetta un certo tipo di personaggio;
3)- dal considerare effettivamente più interessanti le donne border line che non gli uomini (anche se Spider …).
Come tante cose nella vita, comincia bene, continua in derapata, termina….che poi passa il tempo e uno manco si ricorda perché si sia impegnato in una storia così e soprattutto come caspita sia finita.
Madre e figlia, tutte e due belle, anche sa la madre ha i denti di Amis prima che si decidesse a sistemarli. Una costumista teatrale, l’altra attrice. Un morto che fu marito della prima e padre della seconda, ovviamente attore, bravo e famoso.
La figlia ha strambi comportamenti, specie con il povero marito.
La madre vede e sente il morto ovunque.
Fino a qui sembrerebbe quasi una vicenda di possessioni (a parte la figlia che probabilmente ha qualche inspiegabile scompenso), con un suo fascino.
Poi il tutto vira su una specie di intreccio politico.
Mah.
Interessante l’ambientazione nella G.B. dei primi anni dopo la fine della seconda guerra mondiale stretta nella morsa delle tessere annonarie, tra case fredde, mancanza di generi di prima necessità, teatri disastrati e vestiti riciclati.
13.02.2018
Non so se l’amore di McGrath per donne un po’ squilibrate dipenda:
1)- dal fatto che i manicomi da lui frequentati avessero più pazienti femminili che maschili;
2)- dal più o meno conscio desiderio di compiacere un pubblico che ormai si aspetta un certo tipo di personaggio;
3)- dal considerare effettivamente più interessanti le donne border line che non gli uomini (anche se Spider …).
Come tante cose nella vita, comincia bene, continua in derapata, termina….che poi passa il tempo e uno manco si ricorda perché si sia impegnato in una storia così e soprattutto come caspita sia finita.
Madre e figlia, tutte e due belle, anche sa la madre ha i denti di Amis prima che si decidesse a sistemarli. Una costumista teatrale, l’altra attrice. Un morto che fu marito della prima e padre della seconda, ovviamente attore, bravo e famoso.
La figlia ha strambi comportamenti, specie con il povero marito.
La madre vede e sente il morto ovunque.
Fino a qui sembrerebbe quasi una vicenda di possessioni (a parte la figlia che probabilmente ha qualche inspiegabile scompenso), con un suo fascino.
Poi il tutto vira su una specie di intreccio politico.
Mah.
Interessante l’ambientazione nella G.B. dei primi anni dopo la fine della seconda guerra mondiale stretta nella morsa delle tessere annonarie, tra case fredde, mancanza di generi di prima necessità, teatri disastrati e vestiti riciclati.
13.02.2018
November 15, 2017
la custode del museo dei morti
Joan è una guardarobiera in teatro nell'immediato dopoguerra a Londra, suo marito è un attore che muore tragicamente all'inizio del racconto e noi seguiamo il lutto di lei e la scoperta di alcuni segreti che riguardavano lui...
la storia in se non è male, la sottile insinuazione del dubbio che Joan veda o senta i fantasmi vale da sola il senso di intrigo che per gran parte del racconto ci accompagna ma, c'è appunto un ma ed è che cominciano un tantino a stufare le donne pazze/instabili di McGrath, come se non potesse più raccontare una storia senza basarla tutta sulla instabilità emotiva delle sue donne...e questo non è nemmeno il più riuscito sul tema...Follia rimane irragiungibile al suo stesso autore, meglio sarebbe non cercare ogni volta di riscriverlo...
Joan è una guardarobiera in teatro nell'immediato dopoguerra a Londra, suo marito è un attore che muore tragicamente all'inizio del racconto e noi seguiamo il lutto di lei e la scoperta di alcuni segreti che riguardavano lui...
la storia in se non è male, la sottile insinuazione del dubbio che Joan veda o senta i fantasmi vale da sola il senso di intrigo che per gran parte del racconto ci accompagna ma, c'è appunto un ma ed è che cominciano un tantino a stufare le donne pazze/instabili di McGrath, come se non potesse più raccontare una storia senza basarla tutta sulla instabilità emotiva delle sue donne...e questo non è nemmeno il più riuscito sul tema...Follia rimane irragiungibile al suo stesso autore, meglio sarebbe non cercare ogni volta di riscriverlo...
December 9, 2017
When I saw that McGrath had returned to the seedy, gin-soaked London of the 1940s for his new book, I was very hopeful that he had, at long last, returned to form. How wrong I was. First of all, McGrath used to write with suave elegance, expressing himself in beautifully-worked but never showy prose. This novel however is awash with redundancies, comma-splices, hapless metaphors and lazy descriptions (usually of the 'tell us whether they smoke, tell us what their teeth are like' kind). That the acknowledgements thank his editor for her help...Those acknowledgements are fulsome and generous, filled with famous friends (Neil Bartlett, Harriet Walter, et al.), but they resembled an Oscar-acceptance speech and seemed awfully ironic at the end of such a disappointing novel.
What's wrong with the book? It's very slow, the characters are at once forgettable and interchangeable, the theatrical background never feels convincing, the fascism is stereotypical, the plot doesn't quite work. All the ingredients for a terrific novel are here, but they've been mixed in the wrong proportions and lost their sparkle. Just like the England in which it's set, the book feels tired and run-down. Only occasionally do we get the McGrath of old, the master of twisted eroticism and psychological torment.
What's wrong with the book? It's very slow, the characters are at once forgettable and interchangeable, the theatrical background never feels convincing, the fascism is stereotypical, the plot doesn't quite work. All the ingredients for a terrific novel are here, but they've been mixed in the wrong proportions and lost their sparkle. Just like the England in which it's set, the book feels tired and run-down. Only occasionally do we get the McGrath of old, the master of twisted eroticism and psychological torment.
Read
September 12, 2017DNF @ 60%
Hey, I gave this one a fair shot.
I was told this was going to be an atmospheric, slow burner that would stay with me long after finishing, but it was too much of a slow burner for me and I've decided I don't have the patience to finish this one off.
My reading mood has been very weird recently and if I'm not reading something that's fast-paced and ominous, I'm not into it. I enjoyed the part of this book I did read but I don't have it in me to finish it, it's not quick enough to keep my attention.
Just because I'm DNFing this one, doesn't mean I wouldn't recommend it. At no point did I think this was a badly written novel. The characters are in-depth, the story is interesting and the narration is different. It's just a "slow burner", as said before, so only read it if you have the patience to.
Thanks to Netgalley and Random House UK, Cornerstone for giving me the opportunity to read this in exchange for an honest review. Sorry I didn't enjoy it!
Hey, I gave this one a fair shot.
I was told this was going to be an atmospheric, slow burner that would stay with me long after finishing, but it was too much of a slow burner for me and I've decided I don't have the patience to finish this one off.
My reading mood has been very weird recently and if I'm not reading something that's fast-paced and ominous, I'm not into it. I enjoyed the part of this book I did read but I don't have it in me to finish it, it's not quick enough to keep my attention.
Just because I'm DNFing this one, doesn't mean I wouldn't recommend it. At no point did I think this was a badly written novel. The characters are in-depth, the story is interesting and the narration is different. It's just a "slow burner", as said before, so only read it if you have the patience to.
Thanks to Netgalley and Random House UK, Cornerstone for giving me the opportunity to read this in exchange for an honest review. Sorry I didn't enjoy it!
December 4, 2017
I haven't read much McGrath recently. What a fool I've been. This novel is note-perfect. It's an analysis of grief, and of guilt, against a backdrop of Jacobean drama and the more recent drama of post-WW2 London. Like all good novels, it tells us about its own time, and about ours. I recommend it.
September 27, 2017
As John Prine and Iris Dement sing "In Spite of Ourselves," I liked Patrick McGrath’s The Wardrobe Mistress in spite of my prejudices and some minor short comings in the novel. I know my own very narrow sense of aesthetics, for example allowing no one but Roy Orbison to sing “Crying.” And I think Greek choruses should be held back for things –well, Greek. (Required: if you write magical realism, your first name better damned well be Gabriel.) But McGrath does an admirable job of holding things together with a gossipy somewhat bitchy chorus in a novel that is far from complete and perfect but is nonetheless a standout fiction and valuable reading .
It’s a fractured puzzle of a work involving Webster’s The Duchess of Malfi, and fascism, and Mrs. Robinson, and treading the boards, and there’ll always be a British stiff upper lip and whatever the hell else is in the stew. Oh! And there is ghost story. But here is a modern tale that is slightly Greek with mommy shagging the young actor who has eyes for the actress daughter who plays the Duchess. He is made to change roles several times, which may be symbolic. Hell! I don’t know. (I think that he has two different names might also be important.) The author also shares more about fabrics than you might want to know.
But McGrath amuses us and doesn’t insult us, even though the Black Shirt in the cupboard is a bit too C.S. Lewisy for moi. And the death of Joan, the mother, by hat pin is a bit too pat, since she is the wardrobe mistress in question with pins in her mouth in many scenes.
Finally, McGrath’s understanding of one of the darkest of all Renaissance dramas astounds. I wish I had read this novel lo those many years ago when I first studied Webster’s brutal tale of incest and death. With such a sure guide, I might never have made the perilous switch to American literature.
It’s a fractured puzzle of a work involving Webster’s The Duchess of Malfi, and fascism, and Mrs. Robinson, and treading the boards, and there’ll always be a British stiff upper lip and whatever the hell else is in the stew. Oh! And there is ghost story. But here is a modern tale that is slightly Greek with mommy shagging the young actor who has eyes for the actress daughter who plays the Duchess. He is made to change roles several times, which may be symbolic. Hell! I don’t know. (I think that he has two different names might also be important.) The author also shares more about fabrics than you might want to know.
But McGrath amuses us and doesn’t insult us, even though the Black Shirt in the cupboard is a bit too C.S. Lewisy for moi. And the death of Joan, the mother, by hat pin is a bit too pat, since she is the wardrobe mistress in question with pins in her mouth in many scenes.
Finally, McGrath’s understanding of one of the darkest of all Renaissance dramas astounds. I wish I had read this novel lo those many years ago when I first studied Webster’s brutal tale of incest and death. With such a sure guide, I might never have made the perilous switch to American literature.
September 19, 2021
Γεμάτη ζωντάνια, καθηλωτική απόδοση της ατμόσφαιρας του μεταπολεμικού Λονδίνου, καθώς και έντονη μυρωδιά λονδρέζικου θεατρικού σανιδιού.
July 3, 2021
The austerity of post war England is wonderfully evoked by McGrath , the cold, the rationing, the lack of joy and then contrasted wonderfully with the theatrical costumed world and the threat of Mosleys supportive, A dark novel with a gothic ending
June 12, 2018
The Wardrobe Mistress is my fifth of the six novels shortlisted for The Walter Scott Prize for Historical Fiction. The winner is announced later this week, so I’m probably not going to get the sixth one read before the announcement, but I have it ready to go when I get a chance to read it.
This novel is set in 1947 London. While World War II is over, London is still suffering the rebuilding headaches and disruptions to services and available goods. The title character, Joan Grice, is the wardrobe mistress of a London theater company. Her husband Charlie is a well-known actor, currently playing Malvolio in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. Their daughter Vera is also an actress, just starting to become a star, and is married to a theater producer named Julius.
As the novel opens, Charlie has just died suddenly and the story opens with his funeral. When Joan is asked to attend a performance of Twelfth Night a short time after the funeral, she is struck by the uncanny feeling that Charlie’s understudy–or cover–is remarkably like the man he’s replaced. He has the same mannerisms, the same vocal inflections, the same performance as Charlie.
When Joan meets Frank, she’s convinced that she sees Charlie’s spirit still alive in the younger actor, so she befriends him, bringing him back to her home to measure him so she can alter some of Charlie’s suits to fit Frank. Over time, a romance begins between the two.
It seems like this is going to be a domestic drama about an awkward affair between Joan and Frank, especially when Vera finds out about it while working with Frank on a new production of The Duchess of Malfi. But halfway through the novel, Joan learns an outrageous secret about Charlie’s past that changes everything and pulls her into the heart of a political intrigue that is completely unexpected.
The second half of the novel is a little more disjointed than the first, as McGrath explores several new lines all at once. But overall, I was surprised at how much I enjoyed this book. Its reviews have not been universally positive, but for me, it was a good read. I don’t think it’s the kind of novel that will win the prize, but it may be the most enjoyable (for me) of the five I’ve read.
This novel is set in 1947 London. While World War II is over, London is still suffering the rebuilding headaches and disruptions to services and available goods. The title character, Joan Grice, is the wardrobe mistress of a London theater company. Her husband Charlie is a well-known actor, currently playing Malvolio in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. Their daughter Vera is also an actress, just starting to become a star, and is married to a theater producer named Julius.
As the novel opens, Charlie has just died suddenly and the story opens with his funeral. When Joan is asked to attend a performance of Twelfth Night a short time after the funeral, she is struck by the uncanny feeling that Charlie’s understudy–or cover–is remarkably like the man he’s replaced. He has the same mannerisms, the same vocal inflections, the same performance as Charlie.
When Joan meets Frank, she’s convinced that she sees Charlie’s spirit still alive in the younger actor, so she befriends him, bringing him back to her home to measure him so she can alter some of Charlie’s suits to fit Frank. Over time, a romance begins between the two.
It seems like this is going to be a domestic drama about an awkward affair between Joan and Frank, especially when Vera finds out about it while working with Frank on a new production of The Duchess of Malfi. But halfway through the novel, Joan learns an outrageous secret about Charlie’s past that changes everything and pulls her into the heart of a political intrigue that is completely unexpected.
The second half of the novel is a little more disjointed than the first, as McGrath explores several new lines all at once. But overall, I was surprised at how much I enjoyed this book. Its reviews have not been universally positive, but for me, it was a good read. I don’t think it’s the kind of novel that will win the prize, but it may be the most enjoyable (for me) of the five I’ve read.
May 28, 2018
Il romanzo ci immerge fin dalle prime pagine in un'atmosfera tetra e inquietante. Siamo a Londra subito dopo la seconda guerra, nel gelido inverno del '47, e tutti sono provati, malnutriti, nervosi. La vicenda si apre con il funerale di un noto attore teatrale, morto in circostanze poco chiare. Conosciamo la sua vedova, la guardarobiera (più esattamente la signora che gestisce il guardaroba di un teatro), la figlia attrice, il genero impresario, la sua amica ebrea rifugiata, e un giovane attore spiantato. Tutto si svolge in un'atmosfera da brutto sogno: le apparizioni del morto e di figure misteriose, le incomprensibili crisi di nervi di Vera, i troppi bicchierini di gin, le narratrici anonime e misteriose, i segreti che man mano vengono svelati e non sono quelli che si immaginavano in un primo momento. McGrath è un vero maestro nel creare atmosfere inquietanti. Ma il romanzo precipita nel finale troppo bruscamente, quando il lettore sta ancora chiedendosi tante cose. Magistrale nella scrittura (deliziosamente vecchio stile) ma un po' inconsistente nella storia.
July 18, 2019
Πολύ ιδιαίτερο βιβλίο που όσο το διάβαζα τόσο πιο πολύ δεν μπορούσα να το αφήσω από τα χέρια μου. Λίγο χαοτικό στην αρχή στο να αντιληφθείς τι γίνεται, γιατί βλέπεις τους ήρωες στο παρόν χωρίς να ξέρεις το παρελθόν τους και προσπαθείς να κατανοήσεις την συμπεριφορά τους. Το διαβάζεις και δεν ξέρεις που θα καταλήξει και δεν μπορείς καν να υποπτευθείς τι θα γίνει στις επόμενες σελίδες. Χαρακτήρες με βάθος, με πολλά κρυμμένα μυστικά, πόθους, ψέματα, που ο καθένας έχει τα δικά του φαντάσματα και τους δικούς τους φόβους. Ένα συναίσθημα μοναξιάς και μοναχικότητας κυριαρχεί στο βιβλίο, όπου σίγουρα και εμείς όπως και οι πρωταγωνιστές έχουμε τους φόβους μας και τα απραγματοποίητα όνειρα, κλεισμένα σε μια ντουλάπα με πολύ σκληρή κλειδαριά, πιστεύοντας πως είμαστε ασφαλείς, αλλά αυτά μένουν εκεί σαν φαντάσματα που τρυπώνουν στο μυαλό σου με την κάθε ευκαιρία.
January 21, 2022
I enjoyed the portrayal of the theatre world but found the end unremittingly bleak.
November 6, 2024
È definito un thriller psicologico, e lo è. Non ci sono atrocità, non scorre alcun sangue, nessuno viene ucciso, all’inizio. Uno muore, è vero, ma per cause all’apparenza naturali. La tensione nasce e cresce dopo, quando il morto sembra reincarnarsi in un altro, un tizio anonimo che improvvisamente diventa interessante, fascinoso. Lo dice la vedova del morto, perciò proviamo a crederle, anche perché lei vede e sente la voce del marito morto. Gli altri personaggi prendono vita e spessore con il susseguirsi della storia. L’ammaliatore Patrick McGrath non delude, costruisce eventi impensati, svela sorprese, tiene inchiodati al romanzo. Buono, molto buono.
May 4, 2017
Patrick McGrath's latest novel is set in the London theatre community in the years right after the Second World War. The "Wardrobe Mistress" of the title is one Joan Grice, who is grieving following the sudden death of her actor husband Charlie Grice, a leading figure in Shakespearean drama. It is a difficult time for her, especially as the circumstances of his tragic demise are unclear - Joan's son-in-law Julius, husband of her daughter Vera (also an actress) might actually have had a hand in the accident. To complicate matters, Joan starts to believe that "Gricey" might have possessed a young actor who has taken on his leading role. And then there's the matter of Gricey's shocking, Fascist past...
McGrath is known as one of the leading contemporary authors of Gothic fiction, and this is what drew me to the book in the first place. I must say I was rather disappointed in this regard, as this is more of a "period drama" or historical/psychological thriller than your typical Gothic novel. That said, the work does feature a number of the genre's tropes - there is an ambiguous "haunting" which could be interpreted both literally and psychologically and there's also the theme of a secret past which rears its ugly head.
What irked me most however, was the novel's narrative voice. The tale is ostensibly related by an unnamed minor member of the theatrical world, but it is soon evident that this "third party" is an omniscient narrator who takes on the role of a Greek chorus. It is an original idea and one which fits nicely in a tale about the theatre. However, I often found it to be rather artificial and intrusive. Somehow, the idea of a "cockney" Greek chorus didn't work out for me.
On the plus side, the novel is effective in conveying the life and emotions of actors as they fashion and shape their on-stage role. The parallelism between a production of "The Duchess of Malfi" (in which Vera plays the lead role) and the tragic tale of the "wardrobe mistress" is also beautifully done. Indeed, whilst for me the novel was entertaining but unremarkable, theatre buffs would probably enjoy it immensely.
I received this title as an ebook from NetGalley in return for an honest review
McGrath is known as one of the leading contemporary authors of Gothic fiction, and this is what drew me to the book in the first place. I must say I was rather disappointed in this regard, as this is more of a "period drama" or historical/psychological thriller than your typical Gothic novel. That said, the work does feature a number of the genre's tropes - there is an ambiguous "haunting" which could be interpreted both literally and psychologically and there's also the theme of a secret past which rears its ugly head.
What irked me most however, was the novel's narrative voice. The tale is ostensibly related by an unnamed minor member of the theatrical world, but it is soon evident that this "third party" is an omniscient narrator who takes on the role of a Greek chorus. It is an original idea and one which fits nicely in a tale about the theatre. However, I often found it to be rather artificial and intrusive. Somehow, the idea of a "cockney" Greek chorus didn't work out for me.
On the plus side, the novel is effective in conveying the life and emotions of actors as they fashion and shape their on-stage role. The parallelism between a production of "The Duchess of Malfi" (in which Vera plays the lead role) and the tragic tale of the "wardrobe mistress" is also beautifully done. Indeed, whilst for me the novel was entertaining but unremarkable, theatre buffs would probably enjoy it immensely.
I received this title as an ebook from NetGalley in return for an honest review
June 22, 2017
This is the first book by Patrick McGrath that I have read and I found it curiously gripping. The wardrobe mistress of the title is Joan whose actor husband known as Gricey has recently died in mysterious circumstances. Joan is struggling with her grief but watching Frank, her husband's understudy, take over the role he was playing, she begins to think that her husband's spirit has passed into his successor.
This is the beginning of the playing out of her grief through imagined hauntings (in part featuring a sinister wardrobe), a shocking discovery about her husband's past and a final tragic resolution. In parallel, Joan's daughter Vera is rehearsing and then playing the lead role in the Duchess of Malfi, a similarly Gothic tale.
All of this should have struck me as ridiculously over the top but I was completely absorbed by the vivid depiction of post-war London and the world of the theatre. I assumed at the start that the story was being recounted by a narrator within this theatrical world but it gradually became apparent that this was a Chorus and I found this very effective as the novel moved to its climax.
But the chilling aspect of the book that I think will stay with me for a long time was the description of the post-war continuation of the Fascist movement and the reminder in the book's closing scene that their prejudice and hatred is not a past memory but continues even today.
(I received an ARC from Netgalley.)
This is the beginning of the playing out of her grief through imagined hauntings (in part featuring a sinister wardrobe), a shocking discovery about her husband's past and a final tragic resolution. In parallel, Joan's daughter Vera is rehearsing and then playing the lead role in the Duchess of Malfi, a similarly Gothic tale.
All of this should have struck me as ridiculously over the top but I was completely absorbed by the vivid depiction of post-war London and the world of the theatre. I assumed at the start that the story was being recounted by a narrator within this theatrical world but it gradually became apparent that this was a Chorus and I found this very effective as the novel moved to its climax.
But the chilling aspect of the book that I think will stay with me for a long time was the description of the post-war continuation of the Fascist movement and the reminder in the book's closing scene that their prejudice and hatred is not a past memory but continues even today.
(I received an ARC from Netgalley.)
November 6, 2022
La storia è anche piacevole, ma se lo inizi pensando che lo ha scritto McGrath, quello di Follia e Spieder, uno dei miei scrittori preferiti...QUEL McGrath, allora no. Non c'entra assolutamente niente. Non sembra nemmeno lontanamente un suo libro. Quindi delusa si, darei 1 stellina per questo motivo, alla storia della guardarobiera invece ne do 3.
September 13, 2018
Good enough.
June 16, 2024
On the 1-to-5 scale:
Plot: 3 🫤
Punch in the face of fascism: 5 😎
Horrible last 2 paragraphs: 1 😒
Average: 3 💅
Plot: 3 🫤
Punch in the face of fascism: 5 😎
Horrible last 2 paragraphs: 1 😒
Average: 3 💅
March 18, 2018
Quirky, different a good brisk read but not one I was totally absorbed in. An intersting plot.
March 14, 2023
Ratings:
Writing 4
Story line 3
Characters 4
Impact 4
Overall rating: 3.75
Writing 4
Story line 3
Characters 4
Impact 4
Overall rating: 3.75
April 19, 2019
I’d read two McGrath novels before – the hauntingly beautiful Spider (made into a wonderful movie by David Cronenberg) and the rather unsettling Port Mungo – but somehow I lost track afterwards. So The Wardrobe Mistress is a welcome back, a renewed acquaintance with this fascinating author.
There’s always a hint of the macabre in McGrath’s novels, something ghostlike and grotesque, often with a touch of violence in it too. Here the story – just like in Spider – takes place in London just after the war. Once again McGrath does an awesome job in getting the atmosphere just right. This is chilly, spooky territory.
The Wardrobe Mistress is a story of grief and unfulfilled longing set among the post-war theatre crowd. After the death of actor Charlie Grice, his widow, still terribly in love with him, discovers that her husband was deeply involved with the British fascist movement. With her husband’s stand-in (well...it’s complicated) and her daughter (also an actress) rehearsing for the premier of the ultimate Jacobean revenge tragedy, a chorus of gossips witnesses the unavoidable destruction of the couple.
Every fascist has a costume hidden somewhere in his closet. But isn’t that what actor do: bringing things back from death? Whatever it was, 't was a foul storm tonight.
There’s always a hint of the macabre in McGrath’s novels, something ghostlike and grotesque, often with a touch of violence in it too. Here the story – just like in Spider – takes place in London just after the war. Once again McGrath does an awesome job in getting the atmosphere just right. This is chilly, spooky territory.
The Wardrobe Mistress is a story of grief and unfulfilled longing set among the post-war theatre crowd. After the death of actor Charlie Grice, his widow, still terribly in love with him, discovers that her husband was deeply involved with the British fascist movement. With her husband’s stand-in (well...it’s complicated) and her daughter (also an actress) rehearsing for the premier of the ultimate Jacobean revenge tragedy, a chorus of gossips witnesses the unavoidable destruction of the couple.
Every fascist has a costume hidden somewhere in his closet. But isn’t that what actor do: bringing things back from death? Whatever it was, 't was a foul storm tonight.
October 14, 2018
Really didn't know what to make of this book to be honest. It is very well written and at the start I was totally gripped. What for me what a great strength, was the wonderfully atmospheric descriptions of London after the war. For example:-
"Julius' house was a thin one, with pointed gables and trees in front, late Victorian, built of yellow London brick stained black with coal dust. It was just a few steps from Sutherland Terrace, or what was left of it. It was on the corner of a short block of mews houses, Lupus Mews, that was, not far from the Victorian railway yards."
To say that Patrick McGrath brings that period of time to life is an understatement: his descriptions of war damaged London are so vivid you feel like you are actually there and there is a beauty in his starkly descriptive prose. This was really impressive. This is also a story of society trying to regain a semblance of normality after the war and it is hugely successful in capturing a historical moment.
However, even though the plot is good and I was riveted to start, for me - about half way through - the plot just loses momentum. It was around the time when Joan started going to undercover Fascist meetings with Julius and Gustl and Vera started rehearsing from The Duchess Of Malfi, that for me - direction and cohesion started to break down and I just wasn't sure where the book was going.
Towards the end - I am ashamed to say - I skipped bits. Don't really know what happened, I loved it to start, but it got very complicated and didn't maintain its early promise. :(
"Julius' house was a thin one, with pointed gables and trees in front, late Victorian, built of yellow London brick stained black with coal dust. It was just a few steps from Sutherland Terrace, or what was left of it. It was on the corner of a short block of mews houses, Lupus Mews, that was, not far from the Victorian railway yards."
To say that Patrick McGrath brings that period of time to life is an understatement: his descriptions of war damaged London are so vivid you feel like you are actually there and there is a beauty in his starkly descriptive prose. This was really impressive. This is also a story of society trying to regain a semblance of normality after the war and it is hugely successful in capturing a historical moment.
However, even though the plot is good and I was riveted to start, for me - about half way through - the plot just loses momentum. It was around the time when Joan started going to undercover Fascist meetings with Julius and Gustl and Vera started rehearsing from The Duchess Of Malfi, that for me - direction and cohesion started to break down and I just wasn't sure where the book was going.
Towards the end - I am ashamed to say - I skipped bits. Don't really know what happened, I loved it to start, but it got very complicated and didn't maintain its early promise. :(
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