Men and Wives by I. Compton-Burnett (1931)

This accomplished novel has all the hallmarks I am beginning to associate with the author. It has a severe, biting, theatrical small scene where a group of very intense characters have a tendency to bounce one another with surprises, be they lies or truth. The characters in this instance almost flay one another with home truths, all expressed infinitely politely, or at least with an infinite gloss of politeness. Compton-Burnett's theme here is suicide and murder on the outside, but it's really about means of control. This is realised in contrasting ways and exemplified by two main characters, Harriet and Godfrey, who, though married, and well aware of each other's frame of reference in the world, are also at odds temperamentally. While Harriet is weak externally, and prey to nervous tension, she is able to control forcefully a lot of what goes on around her. Godfrey is externally hale and voluble, but temptable and dithering within, and a consistent changer of the story to suit his intentions - he always seems to know that some wholesale change of fortune or interpretation was what he had been thinking all along. The standard Compton-Burnett caveats apply - this book is no more easy reading than the Dalai Lama is a bullfighter.

Commonplace Book

'This was our moment of greatest closeness so far, absurd and true - not telling each other how much we loved and so on, but here in this crowded expense-account restaurant counselling each other to be careful. It was a childish joy to me that so much was so different from all I'd been told. It was like a guarantee that we were on the right track, not inventing. If he'd swept me off my feet, shown me a new world, king-like, with one of those expansive map-unrolling gestures that some men are fond of, I'd have been forced to play the beggar-maid, wrapped in my pretended admiration like a false fur. As it was we were both the same size, small and surprised. This was how I'd always wanted it to be: the smallness of me, the largeness of it, and the chance of both of us growing.'

from A Song and Dance by PJ Kavanagh (Chapter 7)

Commonplace Book

'"Nature is for painters, Art is for crackpots."'

'Bartoli' (Matteo Bartoli?) quoted in the 1956-1960 section of Occasional Notebooks, in The Via Veneto Papers by Ennio Flaiano

Commonplace Book

'...Theater is based on the strength of a society which rejects the accusations of the comedy writer or at least ends up being scandalized by them. Shaw's success was founded on the hypocrisy of his audience. Nowadays, our good society isn't hypocritical, on the contrary, where it comes to itself it pushes sincerity to the most bare-bones naturalism, its professed instincts are reproduction and self-preservation. The most ferocious satire leaves it cold because on the stage it always turns out to be inferior to reality, and is consequently flattering...'

from a note in the 1956-1960 section of Occasional Notebooks, in The Via Veneto Papers by Ennio Flaiano

Commonplace Book

'"....Somehow I cannot throw it off, that her being away should make so little difference. I could almost feel a little disappointed."

"Of course, it is awful to see human happiness," said Rachel.

"I think you know that was not my meaning."

"That is what I always mean."

"It is not always safe to judge other people by ourselves."

"I have always found it absolutely reliable."

"I think you are in jest," said Agatha with a forbearing smile, "or at any rate between jest and earnest. Your sense of humour is too exuberant."

"Is it? I had hoped it was subtle."

"Well, at any rate it runs away with you."

"Runs away!" said Rachel. "It must be exuberant."

"Are you two quarrelling?" said Geraldine.

"No, it takes two to quarrel," said Rachel.

"Well, what are you so deep in discussing?"

"My sense of humour. Your sister is describing it."

"Oh, sense of humour! I agree it does not make one popular," said Geraldine.

"A sense of humour need not be unkind," said Agatha.

"Doesn't it have to be just a little?" said Rachel.

"One may point one's shafts without realising it," said Geraldine. "When one has a selection of them, it is difficult to remember which are the sharpened ones."

"All the great instances of humour are mingled with tenderness and tolerance," said Agatha.

"Yes, that is what I meant. Only mingled with them. Just a little unkind," said Rachel.'

from Men and Wives by I. Compton-Burnett (Chapter XVI)

The Moomins and the Great Flood by Tove Jansson (1945)

I read some Moomin books in my childhood but the memories are extremely fuzzy now. Obviously this wasn't one of them - it is the first in the series and wasn't translated until 2005. This first visit to the Moomin mind is a rolling series of adventures taken part in by Moominmamma and Moomintroll himself, starting in a great forest where they team up with a little creature, who is never known as anything but that, and has a waspish but fearful personality. Jansson's illustration of him is delightful in its typical cheekiness. Along the way, during a wade through a great dark swamp which, like the forest, is lit with luminous flowers, they use one of these, a tulip, to light their path. From it emerges, to their surprise, a beautiful girl with long blue hair; her name is Tulippa (I'm guessing if Finnish's usual modes are followed, this will be pronounced Tulip-pa). They reach the base of a huge mountain disconcerted and sad, longing for sunshine in this gloomy place. A door opens up in the rock face, and an eccentric man invites them inside, to his specially constructed world of incredible colours and sweets. If this isn't a good part of Roald Dahl's inspiration for Willy Wonka I don't know what is - the echoes are phenomenal. Did he read Swedish or Finnish, being a Norwegian? The man's sunshine is artificial, made from a huge lamp, so they move on, taking a switchback railway (Indiana Jones, anyone?) through the mountain and out to the shore of a huge ocean. A boat ride with Hattifatteners ends with a sea-troll guiding them into the harbour of a land carpeted with meadows of flowers and owned by a bright-red-haired boy who falls headlong for Tulippa, and whose admiration is returned. The boy recalls to Moominmamma that Moominpappa had passed that way very recently, taking the road to the south. Leaving Tulippa with the boy, the original trio immediately start on a search for the lost Moomin, but it starts to rain and doesn't stop for days. In the end their world is almost drowned in the huge flood. All that is visible are the tops of the trees and the very high parts of hills. By discovering an old marabou-stork's lost glasses, Moomintroll ensures his help. He flies the three of them on his back in a last ditch search for Moominpappa, whom they fear has drowned. Of course they finally spy him, lodged at the top of a tree, and their mutual joy is unbounded. He is sad; he had been away from them building them a house which has now been swept away. As the flood dissipates and the sunshine they've been searching for floods the world in its place, they start wandering around. Coming upon a beautiful valley with a meadow at its bottom, what do they see there? Moominpappa is elated: his house has landed in the perfect spot. In typical Jansson style, they almost live there happily ever after - except for the times when they go wandering for a change. A stunningly gentle story, full of humour and odd twists.

Commonplace Book

'"It's like religion. And Beefeaters. People see a church service carried on by an octogenarian who hasn't had a spiritual insight since Toc H and from that conclude that God is Dead. Those men in flat hats at the Tower of London presenting halberds look pretty funny so the idea of tradition is baloney. Polite people listening to bad poets read bad verses in a religious hush is boring so let's have everybody as impolite as possible. That's real. Start from scratch. Shake the dice all over again." He groaned and rubbed his eyes with both hands. "Why must people be such whole-hoggers? It's always either/or."'

from A Song and Dance by PJ Kavanagh (Chapter 4)

Commonplace Book

'"...I am sure I feel as kindly towards my fellow-creatures as most people do; but I approach them with invincible terror; and there is no such sure way of making a dog bite you as to think he is going to."'

from Belchamber by Howard Overing Sturgis (Chapter V)

Commonplace Book

'"....it is essential that politics should not be left to inferior men, or what becomes of the nation? Look at America with her venal professional politicians, and see what it has brought her to. Depend upon it, it is the intellectual element in parliament that leavens the lump..."'

from Belchamber by Howard Overing Sturgis (Chapter IV)