This is a rare negative review. Rare, because usually if I sincerely dislike a book, I will put it down unfinished and never pick it up again. Since one can't honestly review a book without reading the whole thing at least once, and spending some thinking time about it as well, the problem generally doesn't arise.
In this case I persevered with The Middle Window (though it took me numerous tries) because it is an early work by an author whom, for all her many flaws - purple prose, excessive sentimentality, long passages of vaguely theological navel-gazing, repeated use of the same characters under different names, and improbably worked out "happy" endings - I generally enjoy, and I was eager to add another title to the growing Elizabeth Goudge section on my shelves. I have at last choked the whole thing down, several years after its much-too-pricey purchase and at least three aborted previous reading attempts. So I am going to review it, and then tuck it away at the back of the shelf, and move on.
Warning: spoilers follow. If you're already a die-hard Goudge fan, you won't be put off by knowing what happens; it's utterly predictable but you won't mind that - all of her books follow generally the same pattern, and you're okay with that, right? If you're just getting started on her books, or are wondering if they're worth your time, this may help you make up your mind. This author wrote some MUCH better novels - do not start with The Middle Window! Try the Eliot trilogy instead (The Bird in the Tree, The Herb of Grace, The Heart of the Family), or The Scent of Water - my personal favourite.
***
Beautiful and wealthy young socialite Judy Cameron is just getting over the flu, and is feeling physically and emotionally fragile as a result. Wandering through the London streets window-shopping, Judy is inexplicably drawn to a painting in an art gallery window. It is a Scottish scene, mountainside and loch and heather, and as Judy stares into it the traffic sounds fade as she is drawn into a strangely familiar world where, in reality, she has never been before. Luckily her doting fiance, Charles, a cheerful if not particularly intellectual army captain, turns up in time to rescue her from her daze.
Soon Judy is off to Scotland to holiday in a rented estate house which she has somehow located, dragging an entourage of doting father, volubly complaining mother, and bemused Charles - they were supposed to holiday in Bournemouth - they are heading for what Judy knows is the original setting of the painting. And, lo and behold, she is right. Everything is familiar to her, she knows exactly how things will be before she gets there, it's just as if she was once there in a previous life or something! How intriguing!
It gets even more intriging as the estate's picturesque butler ("Arrr, do ye be the wealthy Sassenach interlopers? Here's yer tea, then...") stares into her eyes and calls her "Mistress Judith" with a certain knowing intonation. And look, here's the young laird himself - a hunky dish named Ian Macdonald - come to welcome her. What is this thrill of mutual recognition, and why does he stare into Judy's lovely eyes with such passion, heedless of her bemusedly looming official lover, Charles?
To condense: Judy and Ian are the reincarnations of 1700s doomed lovers and newlyweds Judith and Ranald Macdonald. Before celebrating their wedding night, Ranald tears away to take part in the attempted restoration of Bonnie Prince Charlie to the British throne. As we all know, that attempt ends badly. Goudge subjects us to a long and tiresome historical fiction episode in order to explain all of this - modern-day Judy puts on dead-and-gone Judith's dress and suddenly travels back in time (mentally, not physically - in real life she merely faints) to get the whole story. After the Jacobite rout at Culloden, Ranald eventually sneaks home, where the British forces are waiting for him; they intend to hang him as a traitor. He reunites with Judith, but is sent away to hide nearby until she can get rid of the arresting officers. They are not fooled by Judith's vague excuses, and stick around in ambush. Eventually Judith fires a warning shot through the window and fatally wounds Ranald, who was lurking waiting to sneak into the house. He dies in her arms, but not before telling her not to worry, that their great love will be consecrated in a future generation.
Hence Judy and Ian. Poor Charles is given the heave-ho, but that's all right, because Ian's sister Jean is there to catch him; she's been giving him the glad eye the whole summer, and she's a much better fit for him anyway. Or something.
Gar. What a tiresome story this was. I feel all bilious; I think I need to read something crisp and witty to cleanse my emotional palate. Or maybe another Goudge to prove that she can do better (a lot better!) than this overblown romantic mess. The whole reincarnation thing was just downright disturbing. Not that I have a problem with the concept, at least fictionally speaking, but it felt exceedingly contrived in this case. In later novels Goudge tones this idea down, or perhaps "refines" would be a better term, but she still continually trots out the troubled ancestor "coming back" in the contemporary character for some sort of redemption or fulfillment.
Predictable characters, predictable plot, overly rambling and decidedly over-written. This was Goudge's second published book, following her very popular first novel Island Magic (which I have not yet read; now I'm rather afraid to!) She was definitely still very much finding her narrative voice.
Judging The Middle Window with all of the other Goudge works I have read to date, I would give it one star out of five. For Goodreads I gave it two stars; there's worse out there. It's not a great Elizabeth Goudge, though.
***
And here, for comparison, are some of the others with my personal ratings. Not a full list; I have not read most of her children's titles, nor any of the anthologies. Goudge was, in her heyday, a very popular writer of the "inspirational-romantic" genre. Daughter of a noted theologian, Elizabeth Goudge's strong Christian faith is obvious in every one of her stories, though she also generously allows strong pagan overtones in some of her tales and has a deep tolerance for other religions; some of her best characters are atheists and agnostics. She was all about finding "God" in your own way, not blindly following a laid-out creed; something I deeply appreciate in many of her works.
■A City of Bells (1936) - 3 stars
■Towers in the Mist (1938) - 3 stars
■The Dean's Watch (1960) - 3 stars
■The Bird in the Tree (1940) - 4 stars
■The Herb of Grace (1948) aka Pilgrim's Inn (1948 ) - 5 stars
■The Heart of the Family (1953) - 5 stars
■Island Magic (1934) - have not yet read
■The Middle Window (1935) - 1 star
■The Castle on the Hill (1941) - have not yet read
■Green Dolphin Country (1944) aka Green Dolphin Street (USA title) - 4 stars
■Gentian Hill (1949) - 4 stars
■The Rosemary Tree (1956) - 2 stars
■The White Witch (1958) - have not yet read
■The Scent of Water (1963) - 5 stars
■The Child From the Sea (1970) - 3 stars
■The Little White Horse (1946) - children's - 4 & 1/2 stars
■Linnets and Valerians (1964) - children's - 4 & 1/2 stars
■The Joy of the Snow (1974) - autobiography - 5 stars