Nancy Mitford was witty, intelligent, often acerbic, a great tease and an acute observer of upper-class British idiosyncrasies. With the publication of "The Pursuit of Love" and "Love in a Cold Climate" (advised by Evelyn Waugh), she became a huge bestselling author and has remained a household name ever since. A few years before she died, she had started to collect material and letters to use for an autobiography. Her devastating illness prevented her from writing this memoir, but in 1974 Harold Acton, her close friend, completed her project on the basis of what she had collected in a work that is a witty tribute to her larger-than-life personality.
Sir Harold Mario Mitchell Acton was a British writer, scholar and dilettante who is probably most famous for being believed, incorrectly, to have inspired the character of "Anthony Blanche" in Evelyn Waugh's novel Brideshead Revisited (1945).
The title on the cover page, stating that this is a biography of Nancy Mitford, is misleading, as this cannot possibly be called a biography. It is a memoir and there is nothing wrong to call it that. The writer, her friend Harold Acton, was a very close confidente of Nancy. He quotes from the letters received from Nancy and his letters to her and from correspondence of other close friends in such an accomplished way that it almost feels like that Nancy wrote her own memoir. We get a very clear look into her life from the direct quotes from her letters to her friends and vice versa. And that makes very interesting reading because she is a very witty woman and she does not shy away from bald judgements, often very funny and sharp. Unless you are, of course, the victim of her sharp tongue. I wondered what her friends thought about her remarks after the publication of this memoir!
Harold Acton never even makes any allusion of why some of the Mitford sisters were notorious. He hardly ever mentions the other Mitford sisters in fact, only to tell how lovely they took care of Nancy in her final days. No mention of nazi sympathies of two sisters which shocked Britain badly during WW-II, nor of the fact that her sister Diane was in prison during the war, together with her husband, the leader of the British Fascist Party. The fact that Acton avoids any troublesome issues and only mentions all the great events, travels and dinners in Nancy’s life, in short, all the fun she and her close friends were having, makes this book just a retrospection on good times shared. It is very interesting to read Nancy's ideas for new novels and of her extensive research for her historical novels. She always was nervous how her books would be received which shows her uncertainty about her general knowledge. One has to be aware that she never attended formal schools and was taught by governesses at home, as was the custom for girls of the highest class. Writing extensively every day to her friends, it was great fun to read all the gossipy news of that exalted world. As they said themselves, shrieking fun was often had by all and reported upon. Acton was a very affectionate friend and is very loving in describing the last years of Nancy when she suffered tremendously from agonizing pains, which morfine even could not relieve.
All in all, I enjoyed to read Nancy’s witty letters and also those of her friends, especially those of the vicious Evelyn Waugh. Undoubtedly, all quite interesting people! I would not recommend this memoir to people who are not too familiar with the Mitford family though.
Nancy Mitford (1904-1973) could not be bothered with a daily journal. However, she loved writing letters and they comprise the tasty pate de foie of this memoir. (The internet has killed letter-writing; future memoirs & bios will be very boring I fear).
In the early 50s Nancy, a Francophile, adapted a French comedy, "The Little Hut," that ran for 3 years in London. The story of a husband who shares his wife with her lover when all are stranded on a tropical island, "Hut" dismayed Puritan theatre critics here when it transferred to Broadway. It only lasted a few weeks, but Eric Bentley was wise enough to appreciate its satiric take on sex. Mitford never visited the US. Ever. She believed most Americans were doltish and the Bwy reception confirmed her views. The producer begged her to attend the opening, sure that her Personality would burp-up-the-press. "He says I must go, everything paid," she wrote, "He speaks as if I would make all the difference--." She would have made a difference.
The unique Mitford "voice" is present in everything she wrote, which included some travel pieces. On a '50s trip to Russia: "We shot into the air with the minimum of fuss -- no revving, no voice bossing about safety belts -- no safety belts either. But we never seemed to gain any height at all and it was, 'Oh, do mind that tree,' all the way to Moscow. So I was able to see the endless steppes very comfortably as from a train."
On a visit to Rome she compared the Eternal City to a village, "with its one post office, one railway station and life centered round the vicarage." Romans were not amused.
Author Harold Acton notes that in literature as in life laughter was the golden key to her heart. Published in the mid-70s, Acton's memoir is Rinso-White; he offends no one. If curious, you have to Google some names and then you come away convinced that Mitford didnt have much of a sex life; many of her closest attachments were into same-sex relations, including Acton himself. "I'm sure everything would be fine if we were married--" she wrote naively, referring to a pash for Hamish Erskine, a Bright Young Thing of 1930. Two decades, a failed social marriage and several best-sellers later, she realized, "One has only to know about other people's lives for one's own to seem completely perfect." Acton explores Mitford's friendship with Evelyn Waugh, the mischief-maker, "Auntie" Vi Trefusis, and Alvilde Lees-Milne, wife of childhood friend James Lees-Milne -- therein a cosy lavender marriage. The development of Mitford's work and the entire U and Non-U Game are discussed in pleasing detail. Also here are Mitford's final 3 years when she was slowly dying of a hideous cancer. When a fan suggested she see a faith healer, Nancy wrote a friend, "If I hadn't lost all sense of humor I should think it funny." Awarded the Legion d'Honneur (1972), she said it was the only honor she had ever wanted. She was then glued to her bed, "crunching pain killers."
I don’t think I’ve ever read two biographies on the same subject alongside each other. It just goes to show how a biographer’s choice of material, and attitude towards his/her subject, can shape the ‘story’ of a person’s life - and also, then, how the reader feels about the person. After reading Selina Hastings’ 1985 biography of Mitford I found myself disliking the author, and yet her eccentricities seemed endearing again when reading Acton’s version of her life.
Harold Acton was a close friend of Nancy Mitford’s and his great affection for her is definitely the frame of this biography. Even when she is being outrageously opinionated, bigoted and snobby, he is an indulgent narrator - never a judgmental one. His own ‘reading’ of Mitford’s character is that, like her great friend Evelyn Waugh, she had ‘delicate and kind heart’ but a sharp tongue. Acton’s main role in this biography was to choose and organise from Mitford’s own voluminous correspondence to friends and family over the years. The book reads, at times, more like an epistolary memoir than an actual biography because Mitford’s letters are the majority if not the entirety of the book. Because Mitford’s letters were made up largely of references to shared acquaintance and shared jokes, and allusions to whatever project she was working on, they aren’t always terribly easy to follow. However, there is the advantage of feeling like you have direct access to her private voice and something of her fabled charm and distinctive thought processes. Although this was the first biography to be written about Mitford, I would recommend it only to those readers who already know the writer (and her work) fairly (if not very) well. It’s Advanced Mitford, so to speak.
Harold Acton and Nancy traveled in the same continental circles which they each grew into after the end of the Second World War - Nancy in Paris and Harold in Florence they have in common the total embrace of Europe not always natural to the English abroad, and so flow in a confluence of literary and aristocratic beau monde, but one that does not exclude large aesthetic and social-political sympathies. This Memoir was published just after her in 1973 and focuses on the years not chronicled in her biographically referenced novels. Harold's voice is a refined lilt that basically sews together the enormously pleasurable talk quoted from Nancy's many correspondences. Her humour is omnipresent and carries her through hapless love, war time work, writer's doubts, penny pinching, as well as humbles her through wild success, but humour's most audacious employ is in how she managed to keep mixing silly and deathly serious throughout four hellish years of physical agony leading up to her death - territory where even Harold is squeamish to go. Strikingly, what comes out of this, and might not have been present in the many other Mitford material, is Nancy's soldiering, explorer's spirit - her life long passion for a North Pole adventurist combines with her later biographical passions for history's military men - it's amazingly surprising to find that her idea of heaven is the rush of the calvary into battle! Another remarkable section are the tales from the London Bombings of the Blitz when she is driving a rescue van among the explosions, and for perhaps once not required to exaggerate a bit in letters to her Mother. This actioned spirit emerges to temper just a bit the Nancy lover of New Look Dior, escritoirs et chaise longues, hedgehogs, roses, nights spent in, Paris, Versailles, Venice and mock-conservativism. Nancy truly is love.
Very evocative biography. Nancy's voice is clear, the end of her life not presented in depressing sadness, her love life not presented as miserable. Harold and her letters show an upbeat, hardworking, intelligent, humorous woman who was loved and led a full life. I really enjoyed how this biography was written, a very individual style about a very individual one. Nancy Mitford was famous and deservedly so.
An interesting look at the life and times of Nancy Mitford. Along the way I learnt that she was friends with other ‘bright young things’ on the London writing and social scene between the wars. She counted Evelyn Waugh and Cecil Beaton, Dior and Violet Trefusis among her friends. I found out that it was Nancy who came up with and was thereafter identified with the concept of "U" (upper) and "non-U" language, whereby social origins and standing were identified by words used in everyday speech. Evidently, as her letters to Acton showed, she had intended this whole U and non-U idea as a joke, but many took it seriously, and Mitford was considered an authority on manners and breeding—this is possibly her most lasting legacy. I have a couple of older friends who find the Mitford sisters and their odd ( reprehensible in the case of Unity) allegiances to Fascism and Hitler endlessly fascinating. At least now I’ve got a better understanding of one of the sisters. I’m not likely to rush out and read her novels just yet.
A biography based on the subject's letters sounds like a good idea, but in fact it becomes samey very fast and lacks structure - at least in this case. There are pages and pages of Nancy Mitford's comments on this and that, but I don't feel I know any more about her life than when I started.
So fun and refreshing to read an account of Nancy's life outside of the context of her sisters, and by someone who so evidently loved and admired her!
For the most part, she comes across as more sympathetic than she usually does in other Mitford biographies, although the book does occasionally slap you in the face with some, ahem, period-typical English racism.
Also, instead of rehashing the same old anecdotes other biographers cover, the author introduces us to Nancy's fascinating circle of acquaintances, and focuses on her work as a writer.
That said, I do wish Acton had it in him to dish more about Palewski, who is mentioned only sporadically, and the short-lived truce between Diana and Jessica during Nancy's illness is one classic episode of the Mitford saga I wouldn't have minded revisiting here.
Generally, one should be at the very least suspicious of Mitford biographers who are vocally critical of Jessica, but not Diana, and while Acton at times skirts dangerously close to that line for me, this is still an enjoyable read.
As my mother aptly said, "Unimportant" - and mostly a massive list of name-drops. Disappointing because her books are so funny and because LRB said I should read this.
If you are only going to read a single biography of Nancy Mitford, this is not the one!
That being said, yes, four stars because it was a very enjoyable read -- it is just that the pleasure is that of Mitford's own writing; Acton has built his book almost entirely from her letters, carefully chosen and strung together with a thin narrative thread that does just enough to place them in context -- Acton only occasionally shares his own memories of her. Any biographer is creating a narrative of their subject, of course, but in this case Acton is not only constrained by his own relationship to Nancy, but by the fact that three of her sisters (Diana, Pam and Deborah) were heavily involved, and thus he was careful not to include any of the unpleasant family truths that might upset them -- so, for instance, while he notes in passing that Diana Mosley was imprisoned during WW2, he neglects to mention Nancy's role in making that happen, or how that impacted their relationship years later when Diana found out! He also ignores Jessica almost entirely; to read his book you would think Nancy has no relationship to her whatsoever, whereas in reality they exchanged letters on & off over the years. Possibly he did not have access to her share of Nancy's letters? I know that over the decades she refused to cooperate with projects that she felt would whitewash Diana's fascism, and this one certainly does.
Regardless, I enjoyed getting to read so many more of Nancy's own words, and while I recognise that Acton's narrative of her life is hugely simplified and beautified, I appreciated hearing what it looked like to a contemporary and friend of hers. I am going on to the Selina Hastings biography next (Nancy Mitford: A Biography) and I am curious to see how they differ.
I can't resist a book by or about Nancy Mitford, although this one did rather disappoint. The book was written by Harold Acton, a life-long friend of Mitford's. For someone new to Nancy Mitford, I expect this book would be a bit puzzling: Acton writes for those already "in-the-know" and I would have missed many of his references had I not already been familiar with the Mitford family. Nonetheless I enjoyed reading about Nancy from a friend's perspective. She still fascinates and entertains me with her wit.
The verbal jousting between she and her father, her teases and tricks and desire to make fun of everything seem to have been a great influence on her family and all who knew her. This book also underlined the very particular skill she had at writing engagingly and with clarity on every topic she tackled. When her biography of Madame Pompadour came out in 1960, it was a top seller and people from all walks of life were reading it, in the soon to be swinging sixties no less.
Next on my list are her last books, the biographies of Pompadour, Voltaire, Louis XIV the Sun King, and Frederick the Great.
After reading other biographies about the Mitford sisters, I decided to delve into one about Nancy. Harold Acton's biography was the perfect place to start, as it glosses over her childhood and delves more fully into her grown-up life.
Written from the perspective of one of her friends, Nancy's humor and vibrant personality truly shine through. Acton's portrayal of her allows the readers to see what attracted everyone from the Bright Young Things to literary types to older women to Nancy. The inclusion of so many excerpts from her letters to friends and sisters gives a glimpse into the teases, pain, and joys of the author as well as putting on plain display her amazing sense of humor and joy of life.
Acton does as times delve into more personal commentary than is useful to understand Nancy, often describing her companions from his perspective. I found this at times a bit useless, but reading a book written with such affection for its subject was really refreshing at at times made me feel as thought I too was part of the social circle in which Nancy lived.
Towards the end of the book, Acton quotes Nancy Mitford's review of a biography: "I hardly could believe my eyes as I read it. It's scissors and paste in style, a long quotation in almost every paragraph. I found this so irritating..." This biography of Nancy Mitford is even worse for the 'scissors and paste' style, with Acton scarcely contributing more than the tag phrases which introduce each long extract from Mitford's letters. He offers little in the way of a frame or context for the letters, and includes hundreds of little asides - his and Mitford's - about a cast of friends and acquaintances that are never properly introduced or distinguished from one another. It's a shame, because so many of the letters are a pleasure to read - funny and gossipy and interested - and give a strong sense of what Nancy Mitford was like in real life, and as a friend.
The gossiping about Violet Trefusis was a highlight, and some of what the book loses in clarity is won back with Acton's evident affection for his subject.
I had trouble reading this book. Something about the style it was written in was not very compelling. Most of the text seemed to be taken from Nancy's letters and maybe that was the problem; I felt it was kind of choppy. Also, there were quite a few quotes or phrases in French and translations would have been helpful. (I can read French up to a certain point but I could only understand about half of what was said. I might have understood more but I didn't always want to sit there and laboriously translate it.) But otherwise, it was a loving potrait of who Nancy was. I'm sorry I couldn't get into it more.
I have long been a great fan of Nancy Mitford’s books, especially Love in a Cold Climate. This biography was based on her letters and while it gave interesting insight into her life, it was at times rambling and jumped about in time. There were also quite a lot of passages in French, which I do not speak or know well enough to understand, so a translation would have been useful. There were glimpses of the real Nancy, including some unsavoury traits such as racism, towards the end of the book, but I do not feel that I knew her much better at the end than at the beginning.
I had a mixed response to this. Some of it zipped along, whilst other sections seemed to get bogged down with too much detail and I found myself skipping bits. Much of the text is drawn from her correspondence with families and friends so it is almost the memoirs she never got round to starting. It would have been helpful to have translations of the French sentences for those of us who can do little more than say hello and goodbye!
This book was quite a slog but interesting in places. It wasn't written by her but by her good friend, Harold Acton, who studied and excerpted many of her letters for the book. I have been reading several books lately about the various Mitfords and they were indeed a fascinating family, each full of eccentricities and brilliance. I was disappointed in this book because it wasn't really a biography nor just her letters. It was a mishmash of both but needed much more explanation at times. Often I didn't know who either were talking about and still don't know who the Colonel was. And there was much too much untranslated French included. I don't even know why Acton chose some of the excerpts he did. Endless bits of her whining about her love of Hamish who apparently had a drinking problem, tons of gossip about various friends and acquaintances, this party and that costume ball, this visit and that trip to various places in Europe. Quite the high life, effervescently told to amuse her reader. Her sharp wit and intelligence came through but maybe you need to be British to truly appreciate it all. I didn't laugh once in case you are thinking the book will be funny as I was led to believe. Still you get the picture of what the "bright young things" were all about in the twenties and thirties. Seemed quite frivolous and spoiled much of the time. Money obviously was not an issue for her. Oh well.
Clearly a sympathetic portrait of a friend, combining material from the letters that the subject, Nancy Mitford, wrote, with the observations of the writer, Harold Acton. I knew nothing about Acton himself, but having read and rather enjoyed, Mitford's debut novel, The Pursuit of Happiness just a few months ago, I decided to read this biography as part of my research for a different project.
Last month, I began a workshop series on narrative writing and the first two units (completed yesterday as it happens) were on first- and third-person writings, and in a few weeks, we'll be looking at different narrative drivers, including letters. So I thought this book might be interesting to dip into since it uses autobiographical material (letters) to write a biography. I'll give it a solid 3, because while not particularly memorable, the book does, I have to concede, give a glimpse into the postwar lives of a certain class of British society. Not entirely benign as say those showing up in the world of P.G. Wodehouse, but then again, the people in this biography were real! I can't really relate to their attitudes, to be perfectly frank (was the appalling commentary on slavery meant to be ironic?) but her tastes in books and authors did give me a sneaking and grudging feeling of being intelectually in synch with Mitford. Also having read this biography, I can't help but wonder, who Linda's character in Pursuit was based on...
I agree with fellow reviewers in that this book is definitely not a biography, rather a collection of memories about Nancy from people who were her friends. Nonetheless, it is perhaps, the closest to what her Memoirs would have been like.
Since the author was a good friend of hers, he puts the spotlight on her best attributes, making her witty humor and enjoyment of life shine through. He focuses less on her flaws and more on the key milestones of her existence. I definitely do not share her sister Diana’s view that hers was a sad life, reading the book made me admire Nancy’s stoicism and attitude, making good of whatever life presented her up to the very end.
I enjoyed these memoirs of Nancy Mitford, consisting mainly of correspondence with minimal additions by the author. She indeed does not shy away from making fun and expressing outrageous opinions. E.g. in a letter from the late 1960's she approves of racism and slavery, and it sounded serious, not as a joke, leaving one wondering whether she actually meant it.
An interesting look at a time long gone; of upper class English people and the way they talked, lived etc. Certainly Nancy Mitford was a fascinating character, but there were things about her that I would not have liked. If you are interested in the author of Love in a Cold Climate and others, then this is recommended reading.
This book is probably only for the truly Mitford-obsessed (=me). One of Nancy Mitford's closest friends quotes extensively from her correspondence to create a portrait of his friend. Despite my obsession, I found the book slow going at first, and nearly gave up. Glad I stuck with it, because it did get much more interesting as it went on. Some of the stuff about her biography of Frederick the Great was particularly amusing. Her attempt to understand his homosexuality was interesting in its matter-of-fact approach, and the report of her visits to key historic sites in the then-communist East Germany and Czechoslovakia were fascinating. The crazy sense of humor is of course the main pleasure, and there was plenty of that, too. But I don't think I can call it a good read. Still, I am now curious about this author, and will add some of his work to my To-Read list.
Harold Acton's memoir of Nancy Mitford is a wonderfully personal remembrance of Mitford by one of her oldest friends. Acton worked from scads of her delightfully chatty letters and quotes liberally from them, so that it's as if Nancy herself wrote the memoir (which may have been partially Acton's aim, as she died before she could complete her autobiography). It's not nearly as complete a biography as those by Selina Hastings or Laura Thompson, but the quotations and personal anecdotes make it essential reading for Mitford fans.
Interesting seeing Mitford's life through Acton's eyes as well as her letters, but Acton doesn't seem very adept at weaving in his own point of view. Whenever he is talking about his own life or giving his own impressions, the writing seems awkward. Also it's oddly, and jerkily, repetitive--a line in one paragraph is repeated not-quite word-for-word a few paragraphs later.
Also he skated over certain areas of her life, sometimes coming up with kind reasons instead of actual ones. I understand the intent, just noting it.
🖊 My review: “During her twenties Nancy [Mitford] wrote a couple of novels and contributed to various women’s magazines . . .” I could not get all that interested in this rendering of the life of Nancy Mitford. This book is more of a memoire and less of a biography, with 🖋 a writing style that is dull and vapid: 🗑 Pas pour moi. Conversely, other readers may find this story their cup of tea and right up their alley.
🤔 My rating 🌟🌟 🏮 Media form: Kindle Unlimited version. ✿●▬●✿●✿●▬●✿
I did enjoy this. Harold Acton uses a large amount of quotes from Nancy's letters to her friends and family, and because of this you can really "hear" her voice throughout, she really comes alive. But I think the way they were used was slightly difficult - perhaps having quotes indented would have made it a lot easier to read.