When I finished reading Hostages to Fortune by Elizabeth Cambridge at the end of August, one of the notes about it in my reading diary, sandwiched between passages of praise, reads ‘not necessarily the most memorable or impactful book.’ And in some ways that is true. The characters no longer stand out in my mind, nor do I remember much of what limited plot there was. But even a month and a half later, I’m still marveling at the thoughtful, well-written chronicle of one family’s progression over two decades.
Cambridge gives us a very ordinary, unremarkable story about ordinary, unremarkable people, just trying to do their best as they move through the years. The focus is primarily on Catherine, mother and wife, who begins as a not unusually selfish young woman, concerned with her writing aspirations and her husband and, eventually, her babies. Once the children start arriving – first Audrey, then Adam, then Bill – they quickly take up all her time and the years fly by, full of little moments of happiness and lots of worries about money and the children themselves.
There have been various discussions in the book blogging community about how marriage is presented in books and which novels do the best job of accurately representing that state. The young, dewy-eyed newlyweds of Greenery Street are perennial favourites but, showing a more mature marriage, I was incredibly impressed by the portrait of Catherine and William’s union through the years. The novel begins during the First World War, with Catherine giving birth to Audrey while William is away. When he returns, invalided out, they settle in the country and William begins his stressful work as the local doctor. With William running about the countryside at all hours and Catherine struggling to manage at home with first one, then two, then three children, both spend the early years of their marriage frazzled, pressed for time, patience, and money. They go through phases where they don’t particularly like one another, where they can’t even remember what they used to like about the other, where they question why they ever thought marriage was a good idea. But, in the end, they are partners and, however distant they may have felt over the years, they shared the same vision and values. They can respect the work the other has done over the years and, year by year, that brings them closer together, as in any strong marriage:
They had come to admire each other. They had both hated their jobs, but they had stuck to them until miraculously, they had come not only to like them, but to be unable to do without them. By the same process they had come to really need and like each other; somehow a real friendship a real need for each other had grown up behind their differences and disappointments.
But this is truly a novel about parenting, about the limits of control. Catherine’s greatest struggle is learning that she cannot give her children everything she’d dreamed or planned for them. That she must “not grab nor claim, nor try to insist on what they do and what they are.” There comes a point where, if you’re going to keep them close and on good terms, you have to let go rather than attempt to orchestrate their lives for them. And you have to resign yourself to the fact that the fates they chose for themselves will be different than the ones you planned for and that they will potentially achieve much less than what they’re capable of. There is the example of Catherine’s sister and her children held up throughout the novel as what not to do – one that Catherine certainly learns from. But even though Catherine knows what she must not do, that doesn’t make it easy for her when Audrey makes it clear that her mother’s guidance is no longer needed (also made clear in this passage is Cambridge’s passion for ellipses):
‘Darling,’ she said. ‘I love you so much if you’d only leave me alone.’
Catherine thought…I always imagined I had…but she had the sense not to say it. How right after all, how natural and salutary that Audrey should withdraw herself from the person who had combed her hair and trimmed her finger nails, cleaned her teeth and edited…in biting language…her table manners. How right…and how disappointing.
Hostages to Fortune is a thoughtful novel full of well drawn characters and relationships, presented with admirable simplicity. I was so taken with it, was so easily able to relate to not just Catherine but also William and their children, that I’d say it is now probably one of my favourite Persephones. I already slightly regret not picking up a copy of my own when I was in London last month but I had enough to bring back as it was!
A note on the copy I did read: I borrowed a first edition from the university library and found several delightful things. First, the book plate of the original owner: H.R. MacMillan. MacMillan was a prominent British Columbian businessman, who made his fortune in the forestry industry but who is remembered for his philanthropic contributions (including the city’s space centre and the theological library at the university). Several of the Angela Thirkells I’ve borrowed also came from him so, clearly, he was a man of excellent literary tastes:
Second, the book still had its card tucked into the back pocket. I love knowing who checked out books before me (the electronic age has destroyed one of my main pleasures as a library user by getting rid of cards) but I really love knowing who checked the book out 60+ years ago:
Oh what a lovely book to borrow. It IS interesting the thoughts about marriage in books – Persephone books are particularly good for this!
As much as I love Persephones, I am really glad I got to enjoy this library copy! And I love how varied the marriages are that appear in Persephone books.
Lovely review of a lovely book! This is in my top three or four Persephones, for all the reasons you like it – especially as compared to something like Princes in the Land, which treats similar themes but with such a ghastly mother and hideous children that I had no sympathy with anyone. Cambridge’s novel is gentle and beautiful instead. I’ve read one other by her – The Two Doctors – which was good, although not as good, and have one more (Susan and Joanna) on my shelves to read.
And I love the slip inside the book you borrowed!
I do want to read Princes in the Land too, just for contrast, but can’t bring myself to buy it, knowing that I probably won’t enjoy it enough to want to reread. I will definitely be on the look out for Cambridge’s other books in future travels and library trips though!
As a circulation clerk I’m groaning at the thought of signing books out by hand! Mind you, the branch where I work serves one thousand customers a day. A lovely little library in a village…with wool panelling and a cat to roam about, that would be different!
Great review! This is on my shelf and I’m looking forward to it.
The cards and slips were a pain and I can completely understand why libraries embrace technology…but I still love having a book’s circulation history right there for every reader to see!
I’m sure you’ll love this when you read it!
I love to find checkout slips sitting in books, which isn’t very often these days. I’m usually appalled to find a book I’ve picked hasn’t been checked out in years. It’s rather like finding a note or a bookmark, left as a place card in time.
Thank you for the excellent review and another book to look forward to.
It is always so sad to find a forgotten book, isn’t it? But then at least you have the pleasure of knowing that you’ve rescued it from a life of obscurity on the shelf!
I had never heard of this book (or the author) before, but it sounds very interesting! I don’t think our libraries are well stocked with Persephones, unfortunately.
The university library has a shocking wealth of middlebrow fiction, for which I’m incredibly thankful, since the city library is somewhat lacking (though they have started buying a few Persephones, which is awesome).
I’ll have to put this one on the Persephone list. I loved the picture of the card! It’s been ages since I’ve seen one of those, and I, too, miss seeing who had read the book before me.
I think you’ll love this one, Susan! I love the library card even more because there’s one user (McVean) who appears on it twice, several years apart. Rereading should always be encouraged!
My parents own the property in Deddington, Oxfordshire that this book is based around and where the family lived.
It is now a beautiful retirement home named Featherton House in Chapel Square.
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[…] me off to look for Elizabeth Cambridge and leading me to other reviews of her works (such as The Captive Reader and Heavenali). I have The Sycamore Tree waiting for me and I’m very much looking forward to it […]