How very right it felt to start 2013 with One Fine Day by Mollie Panter-Downes. Not only is it a beautifully and intelligently written book (I would expect nothing less from Panter-Downes) but it is also a story about making peace with the past and being thankful for what one has, lessons that seem especially appropriate at the start of a new year.
The book focuses on the Marshall family during one hot day in the summer of 1946. They are a typical English middle-class family but, in the uncertainty of the post-world war, Laura and Stephen Marshall are still struggling to define what a typical middle-class existence now looks like. Their beautiful pre-war garden has turned into a jungle in the absence of a dedicated gardener and Laura is overwhelmed by the cooking and cleaning that had once been the domain of servants; they both are realising that, though peace now reigns in Europe, things are never going to go back to the way they were before the war and their pre-war standard of living needs to be adjusted for the post-war labour market. Over the course of one very normal day, we follow Laura through her daily tasks, glimpsing her thoughts as she contemplates her life, her family, and the brave new world she now finds herself in.
There is nothing exceptional about Laura, which is, of course, the point. Nothing extraordinary has ever happened in her life, nor does she expect it to. She accepts her situation resignedly but not unhappily: “I am a perfectly happy married woman, simply getting a little greyer, duller, more tired than I should be getting, because my easier sort of life has come to an end.” She is a little bewildered by her role as homemaker, having relied on servants all her life for the running of the house, and is largely disinterested in it. She loves her husband and her daughter Victoria but is beginning to realise that not every part of their old life needs to – or can – be replicated in the post-war environment. But that realisation is not an easy one. Her mother, a formidable woman who, having spent years in the outposts of the empire fighting to maintain an English way of life in alien environments, sees no reason for her or her daughter’s households to alter now that the war is over:
Her mother, she thought, had not adapted to things. The war had flowed past her like a dark, strong river, never pulling her into its currents, simply washing to her feet the minor debris of evacuees who broke the statue’s fingers and spoiled a mattress, of food shortages, or worry over Laura who was close to bombs and worked too hard, and had tragically lost her fresh looks. Now, said Mrs Herriot, think God it was over, and everything could get back to normal again.
Mrs Herriot, one realises, will get her way but her daughter, infinitely more sensitive to the changing world around her, will have to adapt. But it is not easy to find your feet in a world so foreign, in many ways, to the one you grew up in. Laura fumbles her way through housekeeping and when it comes to raising her daughter, she realises that Victoria might need very different skills than the ones Laura was taught:
…was she, Laura, ridiculous to have Victoria given all the little graces of the Herriot world, the light foot, the agile finger, the easy manner, when it seemed perfectly clear that she would have to work seriously for her living…?
Throughout the day, Laura ponders these questions and observes, as she makes her way through the village, the ways other people’s lives have also changed. By the end of the day, both she and Stephen have come to realise what truly matters to them and that, despite the stresses and uncertainties inherent in post-war Britain, it is within their power to be truly happy.
I know a number of other readers feel very strongly about Laura, finding her incredibly sympathetic with her distaste for housework, absentmindedness in the kitchen, and ability to take pleasure in small things. I did not dislike her but I cannot say that I ever became particularly fond of her. Laura is a mild everywoman who I am sure many people can relate to but, for that reason, she is scarcely memorable as an individual. Panter-Downes’ strength was not characterization but description and is it those descriptive powers that make this book so impressive. There are plenty of stories about men and women who struggled to adjust to the post-war world but there are not many that are written this beautifully, with such rich descriptions and striking imagery. The introduction of Wealding, the village where the Marshalls live, is a wonderful example of Panter-Downes’ skill:
Its perfect peace was, after all, a sham. Coils of barbed wire still rustling among the sorrel were a reminder. Sandbags pouring out sodden guts from the old strong-point among the bracken, the frizzy lily spikes pushing up in the deserted garden of the bombed cottage, spoke of days when the nearness of the sea had been no watch ticking comfortably in the pocket, but a loud brazen question striking constantly in the brain, When? When? The danger had passed. Wealding, however, had been invaded. Uneasiness made the charming, insanitary cottages seem unsubstantial as rose-painted canvas in an operetta; uncertainty floated on the air with the voice of the wireless, which had brought the worm of the world into the tight bud of Wealding. It did not know, it could not tell what to think.
I think Panter-Downes was a better stylist than she was novelist and most of my pleasure in reading this came from the beautifully-composed sentences, intriguing overall structure, and, as mentioned above, vivid imagery. As a glimpse of the struggling middle class in post-WWII Britain, this is fine, though I must admit a preference for domestic novels from the period that deal with these questions in greater detail (including, yes, my beloved Angela Thirkell – you had to have seen that coming). But as a glimpse of Panter-Downes as a writer, as a keen observer of the world around her and masterful stylist, it is extraordinary. This is my least favourite of the three Mollie Panter-Downes books I have now read (this, Good Evening, Mrs Craven, and London War Notes, 1939-1945) but that tells you more about the high standard of her writing than about the flaws of this novel.
Lovely review as always, Claire – I think you summarised the novel brilliantly when you write “They are a typical English middle-class family but, in the uncertainty of the post-world war, Laura and Stephen Marshall are still struggling to define what a typical middle-class existence now looks like.”
I agree that MPD’s biggest strength is style, the amazing way she turns a sentence, but I also really admire the character of Laura – to craft an everywoman who is not dull or derivative.seems to me an incredibly achievement. Laura is somehow an individual, while representing an entire class.
Thank you, Simon. I find your thoughts on Laura intriguing. I agree that she is neither dull nor derivative but I am not sure that is enough. I felt distanced from her somehow and would have liked to have known her better than Panter-Downes allowed. I’ll be interested to see how I feel about her when I reread the book.
And thanks for your PR efforts yesterday. Whenever I see that I have readers coming via Twitter I know you have been at work!
Oh yes, I was thinking of Angela Thirkell! Yours is the first review I’ve seen ot this, though I’ve seen it on many blog lists before I even knew who the author was. You’ve confirmed that I need to put it on my reading list.
You really must read this, Lisa. I would fascinated to read your thoughts on it, especially since you’ve also read (are reading?) her wartime journalism.
Claire, I echo your praise for Panter-Downes’ “beautifully-composed sentences, intriguing overall structure, and, as mentioned above, vivid imagery.” I read this book after Rachel @ Booksnob raved about it, and those are the aspects I most enjoyed although, like you, I gravitate more toward domestic novels — Thirkell, yes, and also Taylor and Pym.
It was Rachel’s review that first brought it to my attention too, Laura. When Rachel gets that enthusiastic about a book you know it must be excellent!
I really love this book and have read it about three times now. Her descriptions are really amazing and to think what she conveys in a story that takes place in just one day is impressive. I have also read her story collections and want to read her London War Notes eventually, too. This is a good reminder that I want to carry on with my reading of Angela Thirkell as well!
The “Letters from London” are wonderful, Danielle, and I know you would enjoy them!
Am really looking forward to this one (and, yay! it is on my TBR shelf already!). Thanks for the lovely review.
You’re very welcome, Susan. I am happy to hear you have this waiting for you and hope you enjoy it!
I also loved this book when I first read it, quite a long time ago. I was sympathetic to the character Laura even while I felt (because of growing up in the US in the 40s and 50s) that some of her concerns were odd. Now, I think, I would understand them better. MP-D is a beautiful writer and I have many of her books now, but have never gone back to reread One Fine Day.
I have just started reading Panter-Downes in the last few months but am so impressed by how well she handles such different formats – be it novel, short story, or journalism.
Of course I mean MP-D writes beautifully.
Beautiful review. I’ve just purchased this and can’t wait to dive into it!
It is a gorgeous book, Samantha, and I am sure you will enjoy it.
Have never read this author, though I’ve certainly seen her name frequently on other blogs this past year. One for the look-for list. Very good review – Thank you!
She is an author well worth discovering, Barb!
I absolutely love this book. It’s the closest thing to Barbara Pym I’ve been able to find. You should also read her Wartime stories, each one is a little gem. Such a fine representation of war-weary Britain.
As I mentioned at the end of the review, I adored Panter-Downes’ wartime short stories; Good Evening, Mrs Craven made my list of favourite books I read in 2012. Now, I can’t wait to read her post-war stories, which I have standing by!
I adore thgis book and have read it several times on a chair in the garden on hot summer days. It is very lyrical and the descriptions of her garden and the village stay in my mind as to the sketches of the novel’s characters. Who could forget Mrs Prout! This is perhaps one of my favourite books of all time.