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Take Six Girls: The Lives of the Mitford Sisters - Laura Thompson

I don't know why I chose to read this book. Or, rather, I read it because I was fascinated, but I don't know why I was fascinated. 

People of my mother's generation thought these sisters were fascinating. In theory, for me, they were irrelevant. Born in the upper classes to a life of privilege, they were mainly known for whom some of them married. A very strong streak of Fascism. Difficult to identify achievements, certainly any of lasting value.

I remember when Nancy Mitford's Love in a Cold Climate was on the TV, but I was too young to watch it. My sister got the book, and I later read it, and enjoyed it, but didn't find it life changing (or thought changing) in any significant way.

In brief, six sisters. They also had a brother, who was killed in the Second World War. In the Pacific War, because he refused to fight the Germans. 

The parents were Fascist sympathisers, although the father began to see the error of his ways. Nancy was a novelist who lay slightly left of centre and did do constructive war work. Pam was into horses and dogs and was married for a while to a Fascist sympathiser, who nevertheless served in the RAF, but she spent most of her life with a female companion. 

Diana firstly married the heir to the enormous Guinness fortune but left him for Oswald Mosley, notorious Fascist politician of the 1930s - they were interned for much of the War, and their children, including Max Mosley of Formula 1 and Leveson Inquiry fame, stayed with Pam. 

Then there was Unity. "Hitler's Muse". Rumoured to have been Hitler's mistress. Rabidly anti-semitic. Not in that superficial way that affected the English upper classes (including some Royals) in the 1930s, but in a wear-a-Swastika and hate Jews, and live in the Berlin apartment of Jewish people who had fled persecution. She shot herself on the day Britain declared war on Germany, but survived, with a bullet lodged in her brain, inoperable. Her initial medical care was paid for by Hitler, who also arranged her safe passage to neutral Switzerland. She was brain damaged and regressed to childhood, eventually dying in the late 40s of meningitis. She died in Oban hospital, a hospital in which I have attended A&E. I don't recall any sign marking its place in minor 20th century history!

Jessica 'Decca' became a Communist and eloped to the USA, although she later left the Commies and became active in the Civil Rights movement, and wrote books. Debo married the second son of the then Duke of Devonshire, and because of the active service death of the older son, became Duchess of Devonshire. The older son was married to Kathleen Kennedy, JFK's sister, and the sisters were cousins by remove of Churchill. The Duchess of Devonshire was chatelaine of Chatsworth House and only died two years ago, a shrewd businesswoman who transformed her husband's family pile into a leading and successful visitor attraction.

Yes, they really are fascinating, and this book does a superb job of illustrating their lives, and that fascination. It's a pretty decent book; on the whole it's well written and I enjoyed reading it.

But in the end, I gave it three stars on GoodReads. That's my starting point: I choose to read books because I expect to like them, and this didn't disappoint. But nor did it do anything special. 

It assumes pre-existing knowledge. It's not unreasonable to assume the reader has already read several of Nancy's books, and I floundered here, because what I have read was so long ago I don't recall the details or the characters. But it also assumes a prior knowledge of people who have no modern significance. Of course, if you don't know about Churchill, why are you reading a history book? But Lytton Strachey, or Duff and Diana Cooper? Even Evelyn Waugh nowadays is niche, albeit a big niche. Fascinating fact - his first wife was called Evelyn!

I have a complaint about the formatting of the KIndle book. Obviously, this isn't a criticism of the author, and is irrelevant to paper copies. I am tolerant of poor formatting in books originally published years ago, especially in the era of literally setting the type into hot presses. But this was published only last year, and I expect all books in this decade to be properly formatted for ebook. My main criticism was that the numerous and copious endnotes were not hyperlinked, so I had to keep them open on my phone while reading the substance on my Kindle. Many of them were merely citing the source but a large number provided extra information. The book is in four parts containing several chapters, but the 'time left in chapter' referred to the part, an hour and a half or more, and the individual chapters were not hyperlinked in the Contents.

The author provided some thoughtful reflections that, to some extent, are relevant nowadays eg 

What was demanded were gesture politics, uncompromising affiliations, solutions based upon theory rather than the hesitant realities of human nature

or, on Oswald Mosley

He loved Britain and has been waiting for its call,’ wrote Clive James in 1976, ‘all unawares that the best reason for loving Britain has always [to date] been its reluctance to call him, or anybody like him.’

On the other hand, it also contains references to concepts that already seem dated, such as The Big Society.

Finally, the book is part of a series called 'Great Lives', but they weren't really. In some cases notable, or notorious, but at best middling, (second or third level). The fascination lies in the numbers - few families produce six sisters, and even fewer produce five who are worth writing about, and even fewer produce five members whose lives contradict each other.

To conclude, this is definitely worth reading if you already have an interest in the Mitford sisters, but I'm not sure it's of much interest to people who don't, or who are merely looking for background to the Thirties and Forties.

Ballet Shoes by Noel Streatfeild

I received this as a Christmas present, when I was 8 nearly 9. It was just 40 years old, and that was, er hum, 40 years ago. It had been serialised on the TV the previous year, but as we didn't have a TV I didn't see it. Most of the rest of the nation did, so this particular edition was a TV tie-in, reprinted twice in one year (whereas Puffin had previously often only reprinted once every two years! 

There are numerous covers available and I have taken many pictures off the internet and posted them below. Nowadays, as an adult, I prefer older style covers - wait until I get started on Chalet School books - because the artwork is more arty. The children's paperbacks I have from the 70s and 8os are very much of their time. I'm sure it's done with the best intentions, to make the book appeal to modern children rather than appear recherché. As a twenty first century adult I much prefer retro covers, whether the books are children's or adults, and whether they date from back then or are contemporary accounts of the past!

I have no hesitation in naming Ballet Shoes as a favourite novel of my Primary School years. You only have to look at it in the box set of other much re-read Noel Streatfield novels to realise just how often I re-read it.

It's a tale of three girls, Pauline, Petrova and Posy, born between 1920 -1924. This makes just about the same age as my oldest three aunts. This book ends and was published in 1936, like my youngest Aunt, a rare product of Edward VIII's reign. I am currently reading a biography of the Mitford Sisters; the youngest, Debo, the late Duchess of Devonshire, was born the same year as Pauline Fossil and my oldest Aunt. Posy Fossil is just a couple of years older than the Queen and David Attenborough.

The three girls are adopted by 'Great Uncle Matthew' who disappears off to sea for over ten years, leaving them in the care of his Great Niece Sylvia, her Nana, Cook and Clara the housemaid. There is considerable silliness in the opening, scene-setting, section - the capricious adoptions, and the pseudo-poverty of living in a six storey house in Kensington, shopping at Harrods and being taken away from their prep school to be home educated (almost as if Primary Schools didn't exist!). Get over that and you're into a very well written and beautiful book. 

    

It's nice to read as an adult and discover that the writer isn't talking down to you. I find many modern children and young adults' books problematic. They're less coy about puberty and bodies in general, and are more aware of societal issues, but they do assume a level of stupidity in the readership.

Many of the books I loved as a kid are supposedly out of fashion - although Ballet Shoes was televised again about five years ago, and Swallows and Amazons has just been made into a film. The thinking is that they are focused very much on upper-middle class children and are about lifestyles that most children can't begin to aspire to (whether it's acting in professional stage productions or messing around in boats). And, yet, the most popular modern children's series is a bunch of kids at boarding school who, rather than acting or sailing, do magic and play Quidditch. 

I seem to be reading a lot of fiction and non-fiction set in the interwar period and this notably almost entirely avoids the growing unrest in Europe. King George V dies towards the end of the book, but I presume it was published just before The Abdication, and there's certainly no mention of Mrs Simpson...well, not that one, I guess the lodger wouldn't have been called Mrs Simpson if the book had gone to press just a few weeks later. I did notice that almost all the senior crew at Pauline's screentest and for the Charles II film had Jewish names. I didn't notice this as a child, and they appear only as names, but they were surely deliberately chosen by Noel Streatfield, hopefully for positive rather than negative reasons.

I read this so many times as a kid that I became obsessed by ballet. This is really quite odd, because it's about theatre far more than ballet, which only really happens on the periphery. Unlike some of my contemporaries (and both my nieces)  I never went for ballet lessons. Nowadays, while I don't dislike ballet I would rather watch an opera or a play or go to a concert. I thought my favourite character was Posy but in hindsight, it was probably Petrova who had the greatest influence on me, not least because she wasn't overly girly but nor was she butch. There seems to be a general assumption on the internet that she became a pilot in the ATA, and I have a vague recollection from reading The Painted Garden 30-odd years ago that she did some wartime flying.

It is a fascinating glimpse of life behind the scenes in the less than glamorous world of child actors. My cousin's lad did a bit of pro acting as a child (eg in Woof on TV) and she was amazed that even in the 80s/90s, she had to get a 'licence' for him to perform.

Overall, it's a brilliant book because there are some wonderfully sympathetic characters and some great dialogue. Noel Streatfeild has an instinct for understanding children's feelings. Although they're basically good girls, they do have their tantrums and sulks and the feeling that 'nothing good is ever going to happen again'. Nana is small minded but never mean ('limited' one would say), and, yes, everybody is a type, but they're so wonderful - the lady doctors (academics not medics), Clara the housemaid who loved the movies. Rich characters, and so many of us see Pauline, Petrova and Posy as 'real' people.

                       

A Walk in Beddington Park

It was one of those days, when you have a vague notion that you want to go out but you don't know where.

You don't even know why you want to go out, except for that vague notion. The subconscious awareness that, somehow, once you've been for a walk, you'll feel better for it, even if you can't summon up that prospect in your imagination.

We missed a train at Streatham Hill, and had to travel south to Streatham. I think perhaps it was only at this point we decided on our destination. It started to drizzle when we got on the train, but on the whole, held off for the remainder of our afternoon out.

We went to Carshalton and strolled in The Grove. Previous and subsequent visits tell me that it is a lovely park, but I felt disengaged. We passed a charity shop, well, we went in, because I spotted a dinky tiny china tea set. In some alternative universe where I have an enormous house and copious money I would probably spend a lot on china tea sets and oddments, but in the real world it's nice to buy doll's versions!

 

We wandered onwards, thinking how dull the weather was, not entirely sure where we were going, until we reached the bottom of Butter Hill, and refound the River Wandle. There are two branches that meet at Wilderness Island, but the stretch from the island to The Grange isn't publicly accessible. Stretches are visible on the road before the park, including in the tastefully-dyed-green-fountain in the pond (fortunately or unfortunately, the sheer greenness is disguised by photography)

Beddington Park is rather a jewel, and one of the great hidden secrets of South London. I guess I'm doing it a disservice by blogging about it, but I think local people know about. North Londoners won't bother, because they famously have Hampstead Heath, and if people are prepared to travel from Brixton/Streatham area, then they deserve to see a lovely park. Some information on the LB Sutton website and some previous blogposts: Rediscovering the Wandle and A Wandle ride in June

The formal garden is small but very pretty

 

I could have taken some better photos but by now it was drizzling again. It eased off as we walked along the banks of the River Wandle, little more than a chalk stream, You can easily be deceived that you are in much wilder, more remote territory.

  

I was conscious not to duplicate photos I have taken on previous visits, but the Terracotta bridge is the best of several interesting paths across the river.

 

And then, you reach the Tudor part. Manor house (now a school) and church. and a terrace of twee cottages. Again, I didn't see the point of retaking snapshots I had previously covered in better light.

Some more wildness as you approach Waddon

 

And suddenly, you're back in the urban ratrace where warehouses are jetwashed, restored and converted.

 

A stroll past the tweeest cottages in South London (and I speak as a resident of a twee South London Cottage - not one of these!)

 

So, nothing happened. The weather was okay, but not great, especially for August. We had plenty of opportunity for people watching but nothing exciting or interesting to report back. Just a pleasant couple of hours out in the open air. You feel better after it, just about 3 miles from Carshalton to Waddon station, just a gentle stroll.

Never Again: A History of the Holocaust by Martin Gilbert

I snapped this book up on a Kindle Deal. Partly because I know less about the Holocaust than I ought to, and partly because Sir Martin Gilbert, who died less than two years ago, has a reputation as a pre-eminent historian of the 20th Century.

One reviewer on GoodReads wrote 'How can you recommend this book but how can you not recommend it?'

The format is different to what I expected. It is, essentially, a travel diary. Martin travelled with the first cohort of students from his MA course in Holocaust Studies. Starting in Germany, and travelling to Czech Republic and Slovakia, before spending more than a week in Poland.

The purpose of the journey was partly to visit Holocaust sites, but just as important was to visit areas that were the centres of Jewish life before World War 2. Some of these areas had a Jewish history stretching back centuries and others were settled only late in the 19th century.

Many of the people on the journey were, like Martin, of Jewish heritage, and they were accompanied by a survivor of slave labour and death marches - Ben Helfgott. Others were non-Jewish people with a long interest in this aspect of history. As far as I know there is no Jewish heritage in my family but over the years I have been friends, colleagues and neighbours with many people Jewish and Christian (at least nominally) with families who escaped Poland. And of course I have learnt much from TV and film.

It is far more than just a travel diary of the 'we went here an saw that and experienced that emotion' variety. He made readings to his tour group either on the trains and minibus, or at specific sites, and the readings are reproduced here, an intrinsic part of the book.

It isn't a chronology of the Holocaust years and does assume a certain level of knowledge. That presupposed knowledge is a barrier. I knew about the sequence of certain events, from Hitler's installation as Chancellor, invasion of Poland and Czechoslovakia, Kristallnacht, through to the retreat from Soviet troops during 1944 and 1945 and the consequent evacuation of camps and 'death marches'. If pushed, I could have differentiated between concentration camps, slave labour camps and death camps, and, like everybody I suppose, I know the outlines of the 'Big Picture', too awful to think about other than in Big but Vague terms. 

It's helpful but not essential to refer to maps, which are included in the book, although nowadays I often use Google Maps as a reading aid. I am ignorant about the geography of Poland and surrounding countries and even less knowledgeable about the changing borders of the 20th century.

There are graphic descriptions of brutality and murder, which are difficult to read. It is harder to read the acts of mindless brutality meted out on individuals than to read of the systematic 'production line' extermination of people, all of them individuals, with names. But I think one has to read these accounts and be repulsed, because we owe it to these people.

Martin Gilbert was determined not to make this a book just about people's deaths but also about their lives. They visit villages and towns and areas of cities where many Jewish people live. I have to confess not to have given it much thought but I previously had an impression of Jewish people being a tiny minority, living either in concentrated communities such as that in East London or as individual scattered families.

This book shows that Jewish people were not just recent arrivals superimposed on a 'host community' (horrible expression; I'm using it deliberately to make a point) but as much part of city and town life as 'Polish' people, whose ancestors probably migrated East or West anyway.

I get a sense of the Jewish community being somewhat separate from the Polish Catholic community, with separate schools and places of worship (of course), businesses and cultural lives etc. However, I am stating that without context. There is a long history throughout Europe of Jewish people being ostracised, restricted and expelled, so it's lazy to make accusations of non-integration. In any case, the long list of exceptional Jewish achievements in music and literature, medicine and law, as well as in business, shows a community more than eager to embrace so-called 'Western' values. I simply didn't realise, for example, that in 1931 one third of the population of Warsaw was Jewish (the largest Jewish population outside New York) and dated back to the 15th century, therefore in many ways more similar to England's Norman French population than, say, its Somalian community.

Naturally, are mentions of the structures of religion - visits to synagogues and talk of Rabbis, and the group often stops so that a small number of them can pray.  I suppose I am on the side of the Holocaust victims and survivors who knew that there wasn't a God, because how could he desert them and subject them to such cruelty? But other views exist and I have no right to criticise people who hold those beliefs.

I would recommend this book to anyone who wants to find out more about the Holocaust in greater detail than merely popular culture, but fears ploughing into dense academic tomes based on official archives. It may spur some people onto wider reading, and, surely, acts as a great companion to academic study. It has given me a unique insight, and its writing style is very easy to read. I found I was reading it in sections of half a long chapter or just one small chapter (20 -30 minutes on my Kindle) because the substance and content was harrowing, and I didn't want too many events and testimonies to run into each other and overwhelm. But in terms of style, sentence structure and so on, it was highly readable.