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Recording Angels: The Secret World of Women's Diaries
Why do women keep diaries? Is it to record private thoughts they dare not reveal to anyone else? To chart inner despair — as did Rachel Roberts and Virginia Woolf when on the brink of suicide? To achieve the catharsis of strong emotions in times of supreme happiness or danger? Or simply to record some extraordinary event — such as Lady Bird Johnson's eyewitness account of the assassination of President Kennedy, or Mrs Henry Duberly watching the Charge of the Light Brigade.
Sarah Gristwood has assembled a fascinating collection of diary extracts from the seventeenth to twentieth centuries, in which the topics are as diverse as the contributors.
The entries range from the pious to the passionate, from the sublime to the mundane. Here is life from birth to the grave — with all its highs and lows — as seen through women's eyes.
Sarah Gristwood has assembled a fascinating collection of diary extracts from the seventeenth to twentieth centuries, in which the topics are as diverse as the contributors.
The entries range from the pious to the passionate, from the sublime to the mundane. Here is life from birth to the grave — with all its highs and lows — as seen through women's eyes.
256 pages, Hardcover
First published August 25, 1988
91 people want to read
About the author
Sarah Gristwood
26 books376 followersSarah Gristwood attended Oxford and then worked as a journalist specializing in the arts and women's issues. She has contributed to The Times, Guardian, Independent, and Evening Standard.
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Displaying 1 of 1 review
February 8, 2017
This is easily one of the best non-fiction books I've read in ages. It takes a gifted mind and historian not only to find and pull out relevant passages from diaries, but arrange them meaningfully, and say something of substance to connect them.
The book and the diaries quoted in them sparked so many questions: What does one consider important enough to write down? Some women started writing on their wedding day, and some stopped on that day. How prevalent is self-censorship? Do surviving family members have a right to edit diaries before publication, to protect legacies or memories? What audience does one have in mind when writing? How aware are these women that they're anticipating the reactions of readers? If what is written here was unknown (to whatever degree) to their families and friends, then what on earth do I not know about my friends? Does anyone ever really know anyone? Maybe I need to relax.
There were moments when I had to stop reading and send someone a quote, or just sit there in silence for a moment. There is an extraordinary diversity of upbringing, vocation, and lifestyle among the women, and I found myself sympathizing with women with whom I thought I have nothing in common. The lowest moment was reading Beattrice Potter's thoughts on Christianity. Your "intellectual sincerity" prevents you from believing? Really? What a unique and dazzling mind you must have.
As mentioned above, Gristwood is masterful in her arrangement. She is also blessedly free from cynicism (but not necessarily from judgment). At one point, she quotes a Victorian-era (I think) journal entry of a woman describing the death of her young daughter. The woman, to our eyes, sounds ludicrously Pollyanna and naive. Gristwood insists that despite the formality and ceremony in the writing, the feeling is still genuine. Amidst a suffocating modern narrative of secularism and sterility, such an affirmation was a relief to read. One more example: Gristwood at one point refers to one woman as "frustrating," because of what she chose to not write. That conjured up the delightful image of Gristwood corralling recalcitrant actors to play their parts on stage. It also implies that Gristwood herself is, and cannot be, impartial in this exercise; she too plays a part here.
That opens up the door for all sorts of crazy discussions about legacy, historiography, records and recordkeeping, voice, audience, who we are, what we choose to tell, etc. etc. - the point is that you should read this book. Everyone should read this book, because they'll find something interesting in it.
The book and the diaries quoted in them sparked so many questions: What does one consider important enough to write down? Some women started writing on their wedding day, and some stopped on that day. How prevalent is self-censorship? Do surviving family members have a right to edit diaries before publication, to protect legacies or memories? What audience does one have in mind when writing? How aware are these women that they're anticipating the reactions of readers? If what is written here was unknown (to whatever degree) to their families and friends, then what on earth do I not know about my friends? Does anyone ever really know anyone? Maybe I need to relax.
There were moments when I had to stop reading and send someone a quote, or just sit there in silence for a moment. There is an extraordinary diversity of upbringing, vocation, and lifestyle among the women, and I found myself sympathizing with women with whom I thought I have nothing in common. The lowest moment was reading Beattrice Potter's thoughts on Christianity. Your "intellectual sincerity" prevents you from believing? Really? What a unique and dazzling mind you must have.
As mentioned above, Gristwood is masterful in her arrangement. She is also blessedly free from cynicism (but not necessarily from judgment). At one point, she quotes a Victorian-era (I think) journal entry of a woman describing the death of her young daughter. The woman, to our eyes, sounds ludicrously Pollyanna and naive. Gristwood insists that despite the formality and ceremony in the writing, the feeling is still genuine. Amidst a suffocating modern narrative of secularism and sterility, such an affirmation was a relief to read. One more example: Gristwood at one point refers to one woman as "frustrating," because of what she chose to not write. That conjured up the delightful image of Gristwood corralling recalcitrant actors to play their parts on stage. It also implies that Gristwood herself is, and cannot be, impartial in this exercise; she too plays a part here.
That opens up the door for all sorts of crazy discussions about legacy, historiography, records and recordkeeping, voice, audience, who we are, what we choose to tell, etc. etc. - the point is that you should read this book. Everyone should read this book, because they'll find something interesting in it.
Displaying 1 of 1 review