Persephone Books discussion

This months read is The Fortnight in September by R.C. Sherriff, one of my favourite books and I look forward to reading it again.

Who else is planning on reading this one

Persephone sent out an email highlighting this book. Here's what they have to say.

The Fortnight in September by RC Sherriff was first published in September 1931. At the time, the Spectator reviewer said: ‘There is more simple human goodness and understanding in this book than in anything I have read for years... Once more, the author of Journey’s End has enriched our lives.’

Journey’s End (1929) is one of the great stage plays. Set during the First World War, it had no women in it, no heroes and no love interest – it was about the hopes and fears of a group of ordinary men waiting in a dug-out for an attack to begin.

The Fortnight in September, written two years after Journey’s End, shares its emphasis on real people leading real lives. But the atmosphere could not be more different, embodying as it does the kind of mundane normality the men in the dug-out longed for – domestic life at 22 Corunna Road in Dulwich, the train journey via Clapham Junction to the south coast, the two weeks living in lodgings and going to the beach every day (also wonderfully evoked by EM Delafield in the short story in The Persephone Book of Short Stories). The family’s only regret is leaving their garden where, we can imagine, because it is September the dahlias are at their fiery best (hence the endpaper): as they flash past in the train they get a glimpse of their back garden, where ‘a shaft of sunlight fell through the side passage and lit up the clump of white asters by the apple tree.’ This was what the First World War soldiers longed for; this, he imagined, was what he was fighting for and would return to (as in fact Sherriff did).

Sherriff wrote in his memoir No Leading Lady that ‘The story was a simple one: a small suburban family on their annual fortnight’s holiday at Bognor: man and wife, a grown-up daughter working for a dressmaker, a son just started in a London office, and a younger boy still at school. It was a day-by-day account of their holiday from their last evening at home until the day they packed their bags for their return; how they came out of their shabby boarding house every morning and went down to the sea; how the father found hope for the future in his brief freedom from his humdrum work; how the children found romance and adventure; how the mother, scared of the sea, tried to make the others think she was enjoying it.’

The Fortnight in September was a brave book to write because it was not obviously ‘about’ anything except the ‘drama of the undramatic’. And yet the greatness of the novel is that it is about each one of us: all of human life is here in the seemingly simple description of the family’s annual holiday.

P.S. If you've already read The Fortnight in September, do take a look at Greengates by the same author. Houses, architecture, living space, where the domestic happens: this is a strong theme in the books we publish and Greengates is an excellent example. The plot is simple: a man retires from his job but finds that never were truer words said than 'for better, for worse, but not for lunch.'

I read it a year ago, so don’t think I will reread but I will contribute to discussion.
Question- Tania, is there a schedule of what we will be reading? I couldn’t seem to find it. Thanks:)

Great stuff!

I looked back on the suggestions thread, which was where I had suggested this one for Sept, Earth and High Heaven was mentioned for Oct. I'll look back through it.

I have received my copy of that one, Tania1

Great.

I’ll join , I have it and read it a few months ago but will enjoy the re read .

I just love the description of the train journey. We no longer have the carriages that he talks about, I guess he's still travelling by steam engine.. But the whole 'worrring about others getting into the apartment' section is mostly redundent now. I believe even the last sleeper rain has been retired. Different world, and yet a world that it's mostly very easy to relate to.