Reading Private Enterprise by Angela Thirkell is a strangely uneven experience. It is unnecessarily long, centers around characters I am not particularly fond of, and includes some of the most painful and embarrassing scenes in the whole series, but it also has moments of brilliance that win me over completely.
The book focuses (vaguely, in typical Thirkell manner) on the attractive young widow Peggy Arbuthnot and her sister-in-law Effie, who cause quite a stir when they move into Editha Cottage in Southbridge. Colin Keith, having become acquainted with Peggy in town, was instrumental in finding her a place in Barsetshire and is utterly, tiresomely, devoted to her, to the amusement and annoyance of all those who have to witness and be inconvenienced by his acts of devotion. But Colin, unfortunately, isn’t the only man experiencing Peggy-inspired idiocy: his brother-in-law Noel Merton also ends up making a fool of himself over her, much to the distress of his devoted wife Lydia. Now, it is no secret that Lydia is far and away my favourite Thirkell creation, which is precisely why I find this book so difficult to read. Anything that hurts her, hurts me and I find it very difficult to take comfort from Thirkell’s reassurances that Noel thinks Lydia “the most delightful and satisfactory woman in the world” and becomes “more fond of his Lydia with every day of his life” when he then proceeds to flirt outrageously with Peggy, completely oblivious to the sorrow he is causing his wife with such behaviour. Oh Noel, why? I preferred you on your pedestal.
Somehow, through all this, Peggy manages to remain completely likeable. Her only offense is being so beautiful and appealing that every man, even those who shouldn’t, falls for her charms, though she really wishes they wouldn’t. Having had an unhappy first marriage to a serial philanderer, she is in no haste to marry again and is certainly upset by Noel’s behaviour, having been in Lydia’s position many times herself. However, this being a Thirkell book, it is clear that she will not remain unattached for long and in many ways it is only right that it is Francis Brandon who wins her, the son of the equally beautiful, equally charming, equally sought-after Lavinia Brandon. Except Francis is, to me, one of the most off-putting male characters Thirkell ever created. Is there any book where he appears to advantage? He has charm to spare and does a very good impression of being a devoted son, though he’s really little more than a spoiled man used to always having his way in a household of adoring women. Poor Peggy has a few more difficult years ahead of her, I’m afraid (it takes another five books before Francis starts to shape up).
One of the more welcome aspects of Private Enterprise is the reintroduction of members of the Dean family, first seen in August Folly. The enchanting Jessica Dean, last glimpsed as a toddler being rescued from the path of a rampaging bull, has had a miraculous growth spurt and has emerged as a very sophisticated veteran actress when mathematics tells us she should be about fifteen. The key to reading Thirkell’s post-war books is to never attempt to do the math when it comes to characters’ ages: that way madness lies. With Jessica comes actor/writer/producer Aubrey Clover, whose works have made Jessica famous. Clover is a chameleon of a man, always slipping into whatever role the circumstances demand, and Barsetshire is fascinated by him and appreciative of the opportunities he presents for new gossip. His sexual orientation is certainly in question and though the citizens of Barsetshire would never bring it up openly, we know what they are thinking when they are listening to Miss Hampton, one half of Southbridge’s favourite lesbian couple, speak about him:
‘Clever young man, Clover,’ said Miss Hampton. ‘He and I have much in common, only we’re on different sides of the fence. I know his mother quite well.’
This new light on Miss Hampton deeply interested her hearers though most of them weren’t quite sure what she was talking about, or alternately thought they knew what she meant but felt they oughtn’t to.
‘A very nice woman,’ said Miss Hampton. ‘She was the widow of the bank manager in my father’s parish and Aubrey used to sing in the choir when he was a boy. Yes, that’s how he started,’ a remark whose possible implications made such her guests as had considered them ashamed of themselves for doing so.
Though Aubrey and Jessica provide excellent entertainment value, and Jessica proves instrumental in sorting out Noel Merton with a minimum amount of fuss, it is her quieter older sister Susan who captured all my sympathy. A Red Cross depot librarian, Susan worked her way through the war competently and calmly, without any kind of romantic excitement:
The good, hard-working girls who went through the war in civilian jobs were often too tired to be amused by men, even if they met them. Susan’s work had been among other women, old and young. What men she had met had mostly been of the donnish type like her brother-in-law Mr Fanshawe, and in any case her height and her unemotional good looks made men think of her as a good sort, an attitude not conducive to love.
The same age as Peggy Arbuthnot, Susan is consistently overlooked in the presence of the other woman. She would be a very suitable match for either Francis or Colin, possibilities toyed with over the course of the novel, but neither can spare a glance for her when Peggy is around. To my way of thinking, that is for the best. Susan is too intelligent to break her heart over either man and actually does Colin quite a bit of good with her truthful criticisms of him. She is exactly the kind of woman who deserves an excellent husband and, since none are on offer in this book (sorry Peggy, since they’re all after you, but it’s true), it is only right that she remain unattached, though not for long – the next book in the series, Love Among the Ruins, sees her most eligibly matched off to a man worthy of her.
So many of Thirkell’s books are about relationships between parent and child or between siblings but, for once, that is not the case. This is a book about marriage and specifically what it means for women. Lydia adores her husband but when her devotion is not actively returned (it must be said, Noel’s love for Lydia never wavers, just his attention), she suffers and her absolute faith in her husband is shaken. We hear repeatedly about Peggy’s unhappy marriage to Fred Arbuthnot, which has made her guard her heart to prevent it being abused that way again. But we also see what marriage has to offer: companionship and real, lasting affection. For all the fairy tale endings Thirkell gives us in her romances, I think it is also important that she shows us the painful, hurtful moments that occur in marriages – whether they be the momentary bumps that beset even the most perfect unions, as with Lydia and Noel Merton, or lasting wounds that fester until the damage cannot be healed, as with poor Peggy and Fred Arbuthnot.
Effie is one of my favorite characters, I always enjoy meeting her. Like you, I prefer Noel on his pedestal as well, and I wince when in the later books Lydia remembers or is reminded of what happens here. I thought Francis Brandon wasn’t so bad in The Brandons – at least compared to the later books.
I can’t remember if you’ve read O These Men, These Men, the non-Barsetshire novel that is supposedly about her own marriage? It’s a pretty bleak picture of marital misery.
I am fond of Effie, but not perhaps as fond as I am of Mr Wickham, with his amazing tolerance for alcohol and gentlemanly proposals to women he has no desire to marry. Of all the residents of Barsetshire, I think he is the one I would most like as a neighbour. As for Francis, I agree he is more tolerable in The Brandons but I was still a bit irritated by him then – and unfortunately he only got worse with age.
I haven’t yet read O These Men, These Men but I also don’t feel particularly compelled to pick it up. I am perfectly happy to stick to her Barsetshire novels!
I remember Francis Brandon being annoying in County Chronicle. That’s funny about Jessica aging too fast but I remember her being very entertaining in County Chronicle, so it can be forgiven. 🙂
I know Francis is supposed to be particularly off-putting in County Chronicle but I’m not sure about these earlier books. Still, it was not suprising to find him being so obnoxious in CC after have been through his previous appearances! If you liked Jessica in CC, you’ll love her in this where she is much more present and forceful.