I’m not entirely sure what I expected when I picked up Leadon Hill by Richmal Crompton but it certainly wasn’t what I got. I have this idea of Greyladies books as cosy and entertaining, an entirely rational conclusion based on my very enjoyable experiences with their books by O. Douglas, Susan Scarlett, and especially Susan Pleydell. Well, Leadon Hill is entertaining but in a most unsettling way.
Published in 1927, Leadon Hill is a small English village where Marcia Faversham has recently moved with her husband and three children. As the novel begins, John Faversham sets off (with his wife’s blessing) on a four-month fishing holiday with his friends. If Marcia were left truly alone it might not be so bad – she is an intelligent enough woman to be able to amuse herself – but she is left at the mercy of her inquisitive neighbours who illustrate the more poisonous aspects of village life. And yet Marcia gets off relatively easily (with the gossip only that her husband is leading a double life with a woman or family hidden somewhere else) compared to Miss West, who becomes Marcia’s neighbour when she rents the house next door.
Born and raised in Italy by her English father, Helen West grew up hearing about the beauty of the English countryside. And, now living in it, she does find it beautiful. What she was not prepared for was the stifling small-mindedness of the village gossips, who are never happier than when spreading vile rumours about one another and gasping whenever someone does anything outside their narrow view of what is proper. As an artist and as a beautiful young woman living alone, Helen is a target for gossip immediately. But it is her open-mindedness and thoughtfulness towards others that truly challenges the village’s most firmly-held prejudices.
It is a rather horrific but all too realistic portrait of what it is like to live in a small community. There are those who are intelligent and broadminded – Marcia, for one, and a lovely couple called Elliott – but they are outnumbered by neighbours who are confident in their view of the world and unforgiving of any transgressions. The worst of these neighbours is Miss Mitcham, a woman whose capacity for cruelty is thinly veiled by the seemingly innocuous way in which she delivers her devastating character assassinations:
‘It’s a beautiful little place, isn’t it? And in the heart of it sits Miss Mitcham like a maggot at the heart of an apple, poisoning it. I think that woman will be rather surprised when she finds out, as please God she will one day, how wicked she is. She’s one of the wickedest women in the world. …There’s more humanity, less meanness in any drab woman of the streets than in that woman.’
Helen’s gentle philanthropy is twisted until it appears as an insult to those who received it whereas the outright cruelty of the local landowner is cheerfully overlooked when he marries the girl whom he bullied and impregnated. Used to an environment where curiosity is encouraged and kindness taken for granted, Helen wilts in her new surroundings until a visit from an old friend helps her find her way again – and provokes a new round of devastating rumours.
It is a chilling little book and a very well done one. It has reminded me of how much I appreciate the anonymity that comes with living in a major city and the freedom of choosing who knows the details of my life.
I would like to read the Jen Lancaster book but my library doesn’t have it. they do however have the memoir she wrote that sounds quite interesting. Bitter is the new black: confession of an egomaniacal, self centred smart ass, or why you should never carry a Prada bag to the unemployment office,a memoir. I put a hold on this one and should have it soon. If I like it I’ll try the one you got. Happy reading
I like some of Lancaster’s memoirs (Such a Pretty Fat, for instance) but others are not for me. Haven’t yet read Bitter is the New Black but I’ve heard good things. Enjoy!
Sounds surprisingly dark – and definitely not what I thought a Greyladies book would be!
It only makes me like Greyladies books more to know that they publish books like this as well as the charming fluff that I know them for.
sounds like my like in a small city…
Yes, it’s very on the nose.
Sounds great – going on my reading list right now.
Wonderful!
I hadn’t realised that Crompton wrote anything other than the William books. This sounds very different, but definitely worth exploring.
She wrote many, many, many other books! I’ve only read two of her books (and none of the William ones): this and Family Roundabout, which Persephone published several years ago.
Would you believe that, despite reading having read 26 of her books for adults (I’ve just counted!) I haven’t read this one? But it sounds very like Crompton. She does unsettling, gossipy settings brilliantly – a few of her novels are more saccharine, but when she’s on form, she can be so good. Narcissa is one of her best, about a woman who seemingly lives a life of service to others.. but is really horrifying selfish and ruins the lives of everyone. That’s her darkest; something like Matty and the Dearingroydes (which I believe Greyladies also publish?) is rather more charming.
I’ve not read an RC in ages, and you’ve made me keen to do so now!
That seems very appropriate in a way; of course you’ve never read the book that is actually easy to obtain and in print! You need to torture the rest of us in talking about your favourite Crompton titles that haven’t been in print for fifty years. I’ve still got an eye open in every bookstore I visit for Frost at Morning.
I’ve got the Greyladies edition of Matty and the Dearingroydes waiting on my bookshelf and I’m cheered that it will be a little lighter!
My mom comes from a really small town and my grandparents, several aunts and uncles and lots of cousins still live there. Every time I visit I thank the heavens that my mom escaped and that I was raised in a city. The amount of gossiping and backbiting that goes on in that town is scary.
Leadon Hill sounds fascinating and so true to life.
My father’s was born in a small town (coincidentally, the same town Alice Munro is from) and though he grew up in cities my grandparents returned there after retirement. It wasn’t as bad as Leadon Hill but it was and is still a hotbed of gossip and grudges are held for decades.
Me again! I’m intrigued by the people who are glad to have been raised in a city – I’m always so grateful that I wasn’t! Quite apart from the beauty of the countryside, and the ability to wander around without fear, I actually love that people know each other and even that people gossip about each other. It feels less lonely, I guess.
For all that is written about isolation in a city, I’ve never lived in a neighbourhood where that was the case. I’ve always known my neighbours and walking to the grocery store or library it is impossible to go too far without bumping into someone you know. That said, you do get to have more control over the level of their involvement in your life. As for wandering around without fear as a child, I did that too! There is nothing particularly more dangerous about living in a city than in the country, the dangers are just different.
Sounds like you had the best of both worlds 🙂 Maybe I’d feel less nervous in cities if I’d grown up in one!
This book sounds very different from the William ones which I enjoyed as a kid.
[…] So, as usual, I turn to books to sate my desire for country life. Especially the lovely, everything is cosy and wonderful type of village life that I expect is particular to fiction (as opposed to the everything is stifling and all my neighbours as nasty gossips who know all my business type of village life, that I suspect is more realistic – see Leadon Hill by Richmal Crompton). […]