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The Upas Tree
Florence Louisa Barclay (1862-1921) was an English romance novelist and short story writer. Her novel "The Rosary," a story of undying love, was published in 1909 and its success would eventually see the book translated into eight languages and made into five motion pictures. According to the "New York Times," the novel was the No.1 bestselling novel of 1910 in the United States.
272 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1912
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About the author
Florence L. Barclay
110 books45 followersShe was born Florence Louisa Charlesworth in Limpsfield, Surrey, England, the daughter of the local Anglican rector. One of three girls, she was a sister to Maud Ballington Booth, the Salvation Army leader and co-founder of the Volunteers of America. When Florence was seven years old, the family moved to Limehouse in the London Borough of Tower Hamlets.
In 1881, Florence Charlesworth married the Rev. Charles W. Barclay and honeymooned in the Holy Land, where, in Shechem, they reportedly discovered Jacob's Well, the place where, according to the Gospel of St John, Jesus met the woman of Samaria (John 4-5). Florence Barclay and her husband settled in Hertford Heath, in Hertfordshire, where she fulfilled the duties of a rector's wife. She became the mother of eight children. In her early forties health problems left her bedridden for a time and she passed the hours by writing what became her first romance novel titled The Wheels of Time. Her next novel, The Rosary, a story of undying love, was published in 1909 and its success eventually resulted in its being translated into eight languages and made into five motion pictures, also in several languages. According to the New York Times, the novel was the No.1 bestselling novel of 1910 in the United States. The enduring popularity of the book was such that more than twenty-five years later, Sunday Circle magazine serialized the story and in 1926 the prominent French playwright Alexandre Bisson adapted the book as a three-act play for the Parisian stage.
Florence Barclay wrote eleven books in all, including a work of non-fiction. Her novel The Mistress of Shenstone (1910) was made into a silent film of the same title in 1921. Her short story Under the Mulberry Tree appeared in the special issue called "The Spring Romance Number" of the Ladies Home Journal of 11 May 1911.
Florence Barclay died in 1921 at the age of fifty-eight. The Life of Florence Barclay: a study in personality was published anonymously that year by G. P. Putnam's Sons "by one of Her Daughters.
In 1881, Florence Charlesworth married the Rev. Charles W. Barclay and honeymooned in the Holy Land, where, in Shechem, they reportedly discovered Jacob's Well, the place where, according to the Gospel of St John, Jesus met the woman of Samaria (John 4-5). Florence Barclay and her husband settled in Hertford Heath, in Hertfordshire, where she fulfilled the duties of a rector's wife. She became the mother of eight children. In her early forties health problems left her bedridden for a time and she passed the hours by writing what became her first romance novel titled The Wheels of Time. Her next novel, The Rosary, a story of undying love, was published in 1909 and its success eventually resulted in its being translated into eight languages and made into five motion pictures, also in several languages. According to the New York Times, the novel was the No.1 bestselling novel of 1910 in the United States. The enduring popularity of the book was such that more than twenty-five years later, Sunday Circle magazine serialized the story and in 1926 the prominent French playwright Alexandre Bisson adapted the book as a three-act play for the Parisian stage.
Florence Barclay wrote eleven books in all, including a work of non-fiction. Her novel The Mistress of Shenstone (1910) was made into a silent film of the same title in 1921. Her short story Under the Mulberry Tree appeared in the special issue called "The Spring Romance Number" of the Ladies Home Journal of 11 May 1911.
Florence Barclay died in 1921 at the age of fifty-eight. The Life of Florence Barclay: a study in personality was published anonymously that year by G. P. Putnam's Sons "by one of Her Daughters.
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Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews
August 19, 2015
Muddled supernatural yarn in which either the poison of the Upas tree or a psychically possessed cello cause a writer of romantic fiction to temporarily lose his mind. Or maybe it was a dose of malaria ... or perhaps the ill-intentioned power of suggestion ...
It's hardly surprising that I couldn't make up my mind considering the author herself couldn't seem to make up her own!
Ronnie West goes off to Africa by himself to research his next novel while his wife, Helen, stays in England and gives birth to their first child.
Ronnie, ignorant that he has become a father, is due to return around Christmas, but on the way he stops off in Leipzig where he buys an old cello and meets one of Helen's cousins, a 'bad man' who had once proposed to her.
As noted, the plot of this short novel is a right mess, taking great pains to establish why Ronnie needs to go to Africa only to skip over that episode completely; introducing instead the feeble subplot of the jealous cousin; then covering all the bases but clearing none with the supernatural side of the story.
Also, the wife Helen is so preachingly pious and dull that the dissolute cousin's adoration for her made no sense, which coupled together with how lame his attempts to win back her affections were merely confirmed that the story would have done better without his appearing at all.
Still, the scenes showcasing Ronnie's fever-addled brain were quite amusing, whether intentionally or not.
It's hardly surprising that I couldn't make up my mind considering the author herself couldn't seem to make up her own!
Ronnie West goes off to Africa by himself to research his next novel while his wife, Helen, stays in England and gives birth to their first child.
Ronnie, ignorant that he has become a father, is due to return around Christmas, but on the way he stops off in Leipzig where he buys an old cello and meets one of Helen's cousins, a 'bad man' who had once proposed to her.
As noted, the plot of this short novel is a right mess, taking great pains to establish why Ronnie needs to go to Africa only to skip over that episode completely; introducing instead the feeble subplot of the jealous cousin; then covering all the bases but clearing none with the supernatural side of the story.
Also, the wife Helen is so preachingly pious and dull that the dissolute cousin's adoration for her made no sense, which coupled together with how lame his attempts to win back her affections were merely confirmed that the story would have done better without his appearing at all.
Still, the scenes showcasing Ronnie's fever-addled brain were quite amusing, whether intentionally or not.
November 22, 2020
I've read books by Florence Barclay before that I enjoyed very much (such as The Rosary), but this is not one of them. While sacrificial heroines are staples in her books, this woman took it a country mile farther.
This book is about a married couple who are comfortably well off and live somewhere in the UK. The husband Ronnie writes books. He decided he wanted to go to Africa to research his next book and wanted her to go with him. The wife, Helen, has good reason not to go to the wilds of Africa and decided not to tell the husband why she was staying.
There was some mystery I didn't understand completely, as to why her husband came back out of his head. It could have been from inhaling poisonous fumes (the Upas tree of the title), possibly from a mysterious cello he was fixated on, malaria, or another fever.
I did not care for her husband at all and personally thought the wife should have told him the truth and let him choose, rather than treating him like someone who needed to be protected from disappointment. It would have been the adult thing to do on her part and his.
This book is about a married couple who are comfortably well off and live somewhere in the UK. The husband Ronnie writes books. He decided he wanted to go to Africa to research his next book and wanted her to go with him. The wife, Helen, has good reason not to go to the wilds of Africa and decided not to tell the husband why she was staying.
There was some mystery I didn't understand completely, as to why her husband came back out of his head. It could have been from inhaling poisonous fumes (the Upas tree of the title), possibly from a mysterious cello he was fixated on, malaria, or another fever.
I did not care for her husband at all and personally thought the wife should have told him the truth and let him choose, rather than treating him like someone who needed to be protected from disappointment. It would have been the adult thing to do on her part and his.
December 11, 2022
I read this novella as part of a large e-book Christmas collection, but decided to give it it's own review for a couple of reasons. The novel was written in 1912, and the characters are typical for that time. There are spoilers in the review.
The story is a romance which follows one of the standard patterns. Helen and Ronnie are happily married and live on her estate. She is an heiress and manages the property, and he writes novels. When he decides that his next novel should be set in Africa, he proclaims that the only way it can be 'authentic' is if he travels there, a journey he estimates will take 7 months and he wants to leave two weeks from now. He is so excited about this idea that he completely ignores the fact that Helen has just told him she has news of her own (yes, that type of news). So being the compliant wife, she facilitates his journey, organizing and paying for his 'kit' because he can't be bothered with the details. These was a passage I found completely infuriating where she asked if he had money in his account to pay for it from his earnings as a novelist and he says he can't be bothered to check his account balance.
We then jump to his return from Africa. He stops in Leipzig to visit his German publishers, and stays with Helen's cousin, whom she has specifically told him should NOT be trusted and he should stay in a hotel. Turns out the cousin is an old beau of Helen's who is bitter that she broke it off. Ronnie is ill with an unspecified tropical fever, and is slightly manic. When he opens a letter from Helen and drops the final page on the floor, the cousin hides it. Of course, for the purposes of the plot, that final page contains the information Helen hid from Ronnie when he left for Africa, that she was pregnant and they now have a son.
When Ronnie arrives at home a few weeks before Christmas, he is still ill and manic. He is raving about his book, and an expensive cello he bought in Leipzig. Helen is understandably upset that he doesn't mention their son, and calls him utterly preposterously altogether selfish and storms out of the room. Then for the oddest part of the book (in keeping with the British idea of Christmas ghost stories). Ronnie starts to play his cello, and is miraculously good at it, apparently his feverish mental state has enabled the previous cello owner to inhabit his psyche. Helen comes into the room and sees, reflected in the mirror, a man who is not her husband, who is about to be stabbed by an irate woman. She somehow knocks Ronnie over and the mirror reflection returns to normal. After some time with the doctors, Ronnie is well again. The misunderstanding about ignoring their son is resolved when Helen's old beau writes an apologetic letter explaining he was trying to break apart their marriage and get her back. All is happy on Christmas day.
But what made the novel most interesting to me was Ronnie's change of heart. He actually recognizes his own selfish absorption in his own affairs and resolves to do better. He speaks of the poisonous Upas tree, a tropical plant known for providing the toxin for blow darts and speaks this rather long monologue below. I found it amazing to see these words in a work from over 100 years ago, because they are often still true today.
When I called it 'the Upas tree indeed,' I did not mean the one act of going off in ignorance and leaving you alone during the whole of that time, when any man who cared at all would wish to be at hand, to bear, and share, and guard. I do not brand that as selfish; because you purposely withheld from me the truth and bid me go. But WHY did you withhold it? Why did you feel glad to face the prospect of bearing it alone, glad that I should be away? Ah, here we find the very roots of the Upas tree! Was it not because, during the whole of our married life, I have been cheerfully, complacently selfish? I have calmly accepted as the rule of the home, that I should hear of no worries which you could keep from me, tread upon no thorns which you could clear from my path, bear no burdens which your loving hands could lift and carry out of sight. Your interests, pleasures, friends, pursuits have all been swept on one side, if they seemed in the smallest degree likely to interfere with my work, my desires, my career. You have lived for me. I have lived for myself.
True, we have loved each other tenderly; we have been immensely happy. But, all the while, the shadow of the Upas tree was there. My very love was selfish! It was sheer joy to love you, because you are so sweetly, so altogether lovable. But when did I, because of my love for you, do one single thing at any cost to self? I was utterly, preposterously altogether selfish!
You knew this. You knew I hated pain, or worry, or anything which put my comfortable life out of gear. So you gladly let me go, leaving you to bear it all alone. You knew that, had you told me, I should have given up my book and stayed with you; because my self love would have been more wounded by going than by staying. But you also knew that during all those months you would have had to listen while I bemoaned the circumstances and bewailed my plot. You knew the bloom would be taken off the coming joy, so you preferred to let me go. Oh, Helen, is this not true?"
Helen bent her head and kissed his hand, weeping silently. She could not say it was not true.
The story is a romance which follows one of the standard patterns. Helen and Ronnie are happily married and live on her estate. She is an heiress and manages the property, and he writes novels. When he decides that his next novel should be set in Africa, he proclaims that the only way it can be 'authentic' is if he travels there, a journey he estimates will take 7 months and he wants to leave two weeks from now. He is so excited about this idea that he completely ignores the fact that Helen has just told him she has news of her own (yes, that type of news). So being the compliant wife, she facilitates his journey, organizing and paying for his 'kit' because he can't be bothered with the details. These was a passage I found completely infuriating where she asked if he had money in his account to pay for it from his earnings as a novelist and he says he can't be bothered to check his account balance.
We then jump to his return from Africa. He stops in Leipzig to visit his German publishers, and stays with Helen's cousin, whom she has specifically told him should NOT be trusted and he should stay in a hotel. Turns out the cousin is an old beau of Helen's who is bitter that she broke it off. Ronnie is ill with an unspecified tropical fever, and is slightly manic. When he opens a letter from Helen and drops the final page on the floor, the cousin hides it. Of course, for the purposes of the plot, that final page contains the information Helen hid from Ronnie when he left for Africa, that she was pregnant and they now have a son.
When Ronnie arrives at home a few weeks before Christmas, he is still ill and manic. He is raving about his book, and an expensive cello he bought in Leipzig. Helen is understandably upset that he doesn't mention their son, and calls him utterly preposterously altogether selfish and storms out of the room. Then for the oddest part of the book (in keeping with the British idea of Christmas ghost stories). Ronnie starts to play his cello, and is miraculously good at it, apparently his feverish mental state has enabled the previous cello owner to inhabit his psyche. Helen comes into the room and sees, reflected in the mirror, a man who is not her husband, who is about to be stabbed by an irate woman. She somehow knocks Ronnie over and the mirror reflection returns to normal. After some time with the doctors, Ronnie is well again. The misunderstanding about ignoring their son is resolved when Helen's old beau writes an apologetic letter explaining he was trying to break apart their marriage and get her back. All is happy on Christmas day.
But what made the novel most interesting to me was Ronnie's change of heart. He actually recognizes his own selfish absorption in his own affairs and resolves to do better. He speaks of the poisonous Upas tree, a tropical plant known for providing the toxin for blow darts and speaks this rather long monologue below. I found it amazing to see these words in a work from over 100 years ago, because they are often still true today.
When I called it 'the Upas tree indeed,' I did not mean the one act of going off in ignorance and leaving you alone during the whole of that time, when any man who cared at all would wish to be at hand, to bear, and share, and guard. I do not brand that as selfish; because you purposely withheld from me the truth and bid me go. But WHY did you withhold it? Why did you feel glad to face the prospect of bearing it alone, glad that I should be away? Ah, here we find the very roots of the Upas tree! Was it not because, during the whole of our married life, I have been cheerfully, complacently selfish? I have calmly accepted as the rule of the home, that I should hear of no worries which you could keep from me, tread upon no thorns which you could clear from my path, bear no burdens which your loving hands could lift and carry out of sight. Your interests, pleasures, friends, pursuits have all been swept on one side, if they seemed in the smallest degree likely to interfere with my work, my desires, my career. You have lived for me. I have lived for myself.
True, we have loved each other tenderly; we have been immensely happy. But, all the while, the shadow of the Upas tree was there. My very love was selfish! It was sheer joy to love you, because you are so sweetly, so altogether lovable. But when did I, because of my love for you, do one single thing at any cost to self? I was utterly, preposterously altogether selfish!
You knew this. You knew I hated pain, or worry, or anything which put my comfortable life out of gear. So you gladly let me go, leaving you to bear it all alone. You knew that, had you told me, I should have given up my book and stayed with you; because my self love would have been more wounded by going than by staying. But you also knew that during all those months you would have had to listen while I bemoaned the circumstances and bewailed my plot. You knew the bloom would be taken off the coming joy, so you preferred to let me go. Oh, Helen, is this not true?"
Helen bent her head and kissed his hand, weeping silently. She could not say it was not true.
May 1, 2023
This is a muddled misfire of a book. What I love about the other Barclay novels I've read are the sentimental, over-the-top love stories they tell. They are pure romance. It is Barclay's milieu, and she should have stuck to it. Unfortunately she didn't, and so we get this jumbled plot that never seems to know what it's about.
In The Upas Tree, Barclay decided to skip the romance and focus on a married couple. Strike one. Then she made the husband a romance novelist. For me, a very big strike two. Throw in a ridiculous villain (who might as well be called Snidely Whiplash), an odd supernatural subplot that serves no purpose I could discern other than to pad out the story, and a bizarre obsession with a cello, and you arrive at strikes three, four and five.
I understand where Barclay was going with this idea, and we do mostly get there in the end, but the idea was a short story at best. Not this labored mess of a novel.
In The Upas Tree, Barclay decided to skip the romance and focus on a married couple. Strike one. Then she made the husband a romance novelist. For me, a very big strike two. Throw in a ridiculous villain (who might as well be called Snidely Whiplash), an odd supernatural subplot that serves no purpose I could discern other than to pad out the story, and a bizarre obsession with a cello, and you arrive at strikes three, four and five.
I understand where Barclay was going with this idea, and we do mostly get there in the end, but the idea was a short story at best. Not this labored mess of a novel.
April 16, 2021
I thought it was a great Christmas story. Typical romance plot, where a couple has a misunderstanding that is blown way out of proportion. I enjoyed having a fewer number of characters to keep track of. For me, the sound of a well played cello IS magic. No trouble believing that at all. Christmas stories are supposed to be mystical/magical. The older stories have a totally different feel to them. The characters are understood to be Christians and the audience was assumed to be as well. But there’s no preaching, no overt declarations. It’s not what the book is about, but more how society was. I’m having trouble explaining what I’m trying to say, but I like the tone. I find it comforting. This is a love story, not an inspirational story.
December 11, 2024
This is a Christmas story of sorts by one of my favorite Edwardian romance authors, about sacrifice, misunderstanding, and redeeming love. This is not her best, as she tries to incorporate a bit of the supernatural into it which weakens the rest of the story. Otherwise, though, it's an enjoyable, if light, novel that will appeal to those of us who appreciate this genre and the times and mores of Edwardian England.
June 10, 2019
Originally written in the first decades of the 20th century. A well written story, if slow moving to modern readers. The pace is appropriate to the story however. It is definitely moody period piece. I liked it, but didn't love it. I would read more from this author.
December 8, 2021
Unfortunately not great at all.
December 19, 2021
This a sweet old fashioned romantic story.
December 5, 2022
I discovered this book while looking for a Christmas-themed story. It's pleasantly old-fashioned, somewhat down the line of The Gift of the Magi.
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July 22, 2025just that poem.
upas tree is the dart poison for arrows. a slave dies before his master to retrieve the sap and the master kills mercilessly
upas tree is the dart poison for arrows. a slave dies before his master to retrieve the sap and the master kills mercilessly
May 6, 2021
Nice little story, but so naive.
December 9, 2023
Even though I am very fond of F.L.B. this is not one of her best stories. The description of true, self-sacrificing love is beautiful, but the bad guy is a bit too black. The story about the reflexion in the mirror seems out of place, not belonging to the rest of the story. I wonder what the intention might have been.
July 8, 2016
Rakkaustarina - väärinkäsityksiä matkan varrella, jotka selviää lopulta. Mukana fantasia elementti - mies oli ostanut 100 vuotta vanhan sellon, jonka henki loihti menneisyyden tapahtumat nykypäivään. Tapahtumiin liittyi murha.
Kirjoitustyyli vanhahtavaa - onhan kirjan suomennoskin vanha.
Kirjoitustyyli vanhahtavaa - onhan kirjan suomennoskin vanha.
July 27, 2013
The romanticized view of love was interesting only as an example of what was typical of pulp fiction in 1912.
December 12, 2014
I enjoyed this book. It was a nice Christmas Story.
December 27, 2023
This story dragged out for me, and it really could not keep my interest. It was difficult. Others might like it, on the other hand.
Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews