gorecki's review against another edition
3.0
Reading Harriet Said... reminded me of a quote by Margaret Atwood in her book "Cat's Eye":
Little girls are cute and small only to adults. To one another they are not cute. They are life sized.
The private life of children is very interesting. It can seem very uneventful, full of games and fun, but it can also very quickly and easily be turned into something insidious and dangerous. Scheming. Manipulation. Traps. This dark and cruel side of childhood has been something I've found fascinating in literature and movies for a very long time. I know it's not just me, after all there are so many horror movies out there with creepy little children. But it's not just the creepy little child that interests me in a story of this kind - it's they way they tick and how they become that way.
I wish I could have read Harriet Said... back in the day when it was first published in the 70s, because I think it would have been a much bigger shock back then than it is now. We're already aware and used to the "cruel little girl causes irreversible damage" plotline all too well to be shocked or surprised by it. But the way this Bainbridge works with childhood sexuality, obsession, and scheming in this book would have sent chills down my spine had I read it earlier. In her typical Bainbridge way, she says more with the things she doesn't tell us about than the ones she does. Stylistically, this book reminded me a bit of Carson McCullers - the big emotions, the feelings the characters couldn't contain, their constant yearning for something.
And while I can't say this was among my favourite Bainbridge novels, I have to admit that I have never been more interested in her than I am now. The way she digs in the murky and dark corners of humanity and works with the gritty and uncomfortable topics she finds there in such a purely human way is something I can't get enough of.
Little girls are cute and small only to adults. To one another they are not cute. They are life sized.
The private life of children is very interesting. It can seem very uneventful, full of games and fun, but it can also very quickly and easily be turned into something insidious and dangerous. Scheming. Manipulation. Traps. This dark and cruel side of childhood has been something I've found fascinating in literature and movies for a very long time. I know it's not just me, after all there are so many horror movies out there with creepy little children. But it's not just the creepy little child that interests me in a story of this kind - it's they way they tick and how they become that way.
I wish I could have read Harriet Said... back in the day when it was first published in the 70s, because I think it would have been a much bigger shock back then than it is now. We're already aware and used to the "cruel little girl causes irreversible damage" plotline all too well to be shocked or surprised by it. But the way this Bainbridge works with childhood sexuality, obsession, and scheming in this book would have sent chills down my spine had I read it earlier. In her typical Bainbridge way, she says more with the things she doesn't tell us about than the ones she does. Stylistically, this book reminded me a bit of Carson McCullers - the big emotions, the feelings the characters couldn't contain, their constant yearning for something.
And while I can't say this was among my favourite Bainbridge novels, I have to admit that I have never been more interested in her than I am now. The way she digs in the murky and dark corners of humanity and works with the gritty and uncomfortable topics she finds there in such a purely human way is something I can't get enough of.
thebradking's review against another edition
5.0
I came across Beryl Bainbridge's work after reading about her in the New York Times a few months ago. I was intrigued by the woman, her life, and her writing. And so I picked up Harriet Said: A Novel, which was Bainbridge's first novel.
The book was one of the best I've ever read. I'm generally not inclined to go all praise the prose about writers because that's a complement that is subjective. It assumes 1) that a single type of writing works for all stories, and 2) that the story was less important than the writing. But I don't know how to write about Harriet Said without telling you that the words just fell off the page. Bainbridge tells a tight, taut story that unfolds in all of its horrifying details.
While the story is ostensibly about a murder, it's really not. The story explores the toxic relationship between young girls, the toxic environment that young girls are subjected, and the things that break in adults that create those environments.
But it's not preachy on the subject. Instead, Bainbridge simply lays bare the stories of the characters, allowing them to unfold before you eyes. You can see their world, and you can see its inevitable demise. And you can recognize it as the world around you.
I've had to set Bainbridge aside for a few months. The book was so haunting and raw, I needed to put a little distance between myself and her world. But now I'm anxious to dig into her second work.
And if you've not yet discovered Beryl Bainbridge, do that today.
The book was one of the best I've ever read. I'm generally not inclined to go all praise the prose about writers because that's a complement that is subjective. It assumes 1) that a single type of writing works for all stories, and 2) that the story was less important than the writing. But I don't know how to write about Harriet Said without telling you that the words just fell off the page. Bainbridge tells a tight, taut story that unfolds in all of its horrifying details.
While the story is ostensibly about a murder, it's really not. The story explores the toxic relationship between young girls, the toxic environment that young girls are subjected, and the things that break in adults that create those environments.
But it's not preachy on the subject. Instead, Bainbridge simply lays bare the stories of the characters, allowing them to unfold before you eyes. You can see their world, and you can see its inevitable demise. And you can recognize it as the world around you.
I've had to set Bainbridge aside for a few months. The book was so haunting and raw, I needed to put a little distance between myself and her world. But now I'm anxious to dig into her second work.
And if you've not yet discovered Beryl Bainbridge, do that today.
fictionfan's review against another edition
4.0
Lock up your daughters...
Our unnamed narrator (I shall call her Elsie, just because I can) has returned from boarding school for the summer and is excited about getting together with her closest friend, Harriet. The girls have been in trouble in the past, and this is the reason Elsie's parents sent her away to school. It's quickly apparent they intend to get into just as much trouble in the future – constantly seeking new experiences they can record in their diary, each experience must top the one before. They are at that age, thirteen or fourteen, when their fantasies run to men and sex. And with Harriet's encouragement, Elsie has developed a fascination with an unhappily married middle-aged man whom they call 'the Tsar'. She sets out to tempt him and he is open to being tempted, but we know from the beginning that things aren't going to end well...
This is an intriguing look at the secret lives of adolescent girls, set in the '50s, at a time when many parents still demanded obedience rather than offering guidance. Both sets of parents care about their daughters in their own ways but clearly have no idea how to handle them, so that Harriet and Elsie are left to navigate their own way through their burgeoning sexuality. The thing that makes the book so disturbing is that their thoughts and behaviour will be recognisable to any woman, since we all went through that difficult stage when our physical selves were maturing far more rapidly than our emotional selves. It's also a reminder of how female friendships at that age can become obsessively close, to a point where they can take precedence over all other relationships, even family, and can develop their own secret codes of communication and behaviour. In the end, Harriet and Elsie go much further along the path of acting out their fantasies than most of us did (I hope!), but their first steps feel like ones any one of us might have taken, perhaps with similar consequences.
The book was famously inspired by the case in New Zealand where two teenage girls murdered the mother of one of them, but the story isn't a slavish copy of that, so knowing the original case is not a spoiler for the book. It was also apparently Bainbridge's first novel, though it was rejected at the time, and was only published much later once she had become an established name.
I haven't read any of her later books, so can't compare the quality of the writing, but I felt this one was a little patchy. Some of the writing is wonderful, but for such a short novel I still found the pacing rather slow, finding myself wishing it would hurry up and get to where it was going. Perhaps this was because I had more or less gathered the major points of the plot from the many, many reviews I've read of it, or perhaps it was because the end was so blatantly foreshadowed at the beginning – I'm not sure.
The characterisation of both girls is somewhat vague, but I felt that fitted well with the first-person narration. Elsie's obsession with Harriet and desire to impress her is portrayed excellently, but Harriet herself remains something of an enigma because we only have Elsie's account to go on. Elsie also hints that she, Elsie, is the submissive one in the relationship, but sometimes the reader is made to wonder if this is a true representation of their friendship, or some kind of deflection so that Elsie should be seen as the more innocent of the two.
Times change and attitudes change with them. It may be harder for a modern reader, having lived through all the horror stories about paedophiles and grooming, to feel as sympathetic towards the Tsar as I suspect a reader was expected to feel when the book was published in the '70s. It's also less politically correct (though no less true) to see young teenage girls as potential temptresses, using their sexuality as a game, only half innocently, testing their new-found power over men. All of that rang true for me, though, however much we like to gloss over the sometimes dark complexities of teenage sexuality these days.
So while I wasn't quite as blown away by this as I'd hoped, I think it's a fine example of a story that becomes very dark while still retaining a chilling level of credibility. Recommended, and it will certainly encourage me to seek out more of Bainbridge's work.
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com
Our unnamed narrator (I shall call her Elsie, just because I can) has returned from boarding school for the summer and is excited about getting together with her closest friend, Harriet. The girls have been in trouble in the past, and this is the reason Elsie's parents sent her away to school. It's quickly apparent they intend to get into just as much trouble in the future – constantly seeking new experiences they can record in their diary, each experience must top the one before. They are at that age, thirteen or fourteen, when their fantasies run to men and sex. And with Harriet's encouragement, Elsie has developed a fascination with an unhappily married middle-aged man whom they call 'the Tsar'. She sets out to tempt him and he is open to being tempted, but we know from the beginning that things aren't going to end well...
This is an intriguing look at the secret lives of adolescent girls, set in the '50s, at a time when many parents still demanded obedience rather than offering guidance. Both sets of parents care about their daughters in their own ways but clearly have no idea how to handle them, so that Harriet and Elsie are left to navigate their own way through their burgeoning sexuality. The thing that makes the book so disturbing is that their thoughts and behaviour will be recognisable to any woman, since we all went through that difficult stage when our physical selves were maturing far more rapidly than our emotional selves. It's also a reminder of how female friendships at that age can become obsessively close, to a point where they can take precedence over all other relationships, even family, and can develop their own secret codes of communication and behaviour. In the end, Harriet and Elsie go much further along the path of acting out their fantasies than most of us did (I hope!), but their first steps feel like ones any one of us might have taken, perhaps with similar consequences.
Please God (I could feel the Tsar's hand on my shoulder) please God, send Harriet. Then I turned to face the tiger. So dingy he was with his sallow skin and thin hair brushed carefully back. For all his elegance, and graceful walk, the delicate way he moved his head, indefinably he lacked youth. Later I was to remember the stillness in the woods, the evening in an avenue of light between the tree trunks, and the Tsar with his hand on my shoulder. I did not know I loved him then, because as Harriet wrote later in the diary, we had a long way to go before we reached the point of love.
The book was famously inspired by the case in New Zealand where two teenage girls murdered the mother of one of them, but the story isn't a slavish copy of that, so knowing the original case is not a spoiler for the book. It was also apparently Bainbridge's first novel, though it was rejected at the time, and was only published much later once she had become an established name.
I haven't read any of her later books, so can't compare the quality of the writing, but I felt this one was a little patchy. Some of the writing is wonderful, but for such a short novel I still found the pacing rather slow, finding myself wishing it would hurry up and get to where it was going. Perhaps this was because I had more or less gathered the major points of the plot from the many, many reviews I've read of it, or perhaps it was because the end was so blatantly foreshadowed at the beginning – I'm not sure.
I had tried to explain to my mother that it was awful to go so early; that one looked so silly when the field was full of small children. I could not explain that when it was dark a new dignity would transform the fair into an oasis of excitement, so that it became a place of mystery and delight; peopled with soldiers from the camp and orange-faced girls wearing head scarves, who in strange regimented lines would sway back and forth across the field, facing each other defiantly, exchanging no words, bright-eyed under the needle stars. I could not explain how all at once the lines would meet and mingle performing a complicated rite of selection; orange girls and soldier boys pairing off slowly to drift to the far end of the field and struggle under the hedges filled with blackberries.
The characterisation of both girls is somewhat vague, but I felt that fitted well with the first-person narration. Elsie's obsession with Harriet and desire to impress her is portrayed excellently, but Harriet herself remains something of an enigma because we only have Elsie's account to go on. Elsie also hints that she, Elsie, is the submissive one in the relationship, but sometimes the reader is made to wonder if this is a true representation of their friendship, or some kind of deflection so that Elsie should be seen as the more innocent of the two.
Times change and attitudes change with them. It may be harder for a modern reader, having lived through all the horror stories about paedophiles and grooming, to feel as sympathetic towards the Tsar as I suspect a reader was expected to feel when the book was published in the '70s. It's also less politically correct (though no less true) to see young teenage girls as potential temptresses, using their sexuality as a game, only half innocently, testing their new-found power over men. All of that rang true for me, though, however much we like to gloss over the sometimes dark complexities of teenage sexuality these days.
So while I wasn't quite as blown away by this as I'd hoped, I think it's a fine example of a story that becomes very dark while still retaining a chilling level of credibility. Recommended, and it will certainly encourage me to seek out more of Bainbridge's work.
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com
amxlia's review
dark
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.5
Content Warnings
Graphic: Pedophilia and Sexual assault
wisps's review against another edition
2.0
I tried and tried my very best to get into the story but it has been quite a drag. Maybe the reading circumstances weren't favourable or whatever be the reason, it became a chore to get through the pages.
The book dwells around the toxic relationship of two adolescent teenage girls and one summer.
The book dwells around the toxic relationship of two adolescent teenage girls and one summer.
katshaw's review against another edition
4.0
Really fun and terrifying. Slightly like Charlotte Perkins Gilman.
hattiereadssomanybooks_x's review against another edition
4.0
My rating is based on the atmospheric nature of the writing rather than the subject matter. This book is like a bottomless black pit of despair, hate and anguish.
evelum's review against another edition
3.0
Difficult to rate. The best part of the book was the depiction of the relationship between the two girls, especially the main character's complex feelings towards Harriet. I think the emotional side of the story felt pretty accurate for young teens, but sometimes the words and concepts they talked about felt a little bit old to me. At least, I couldn't imagine my friends from when I was 13-14 to say some of the things in the book. It made them sound more like maybe 15-16 year-olds, but that was only sometimes.
The story itself fell a little flat for me. At times, it felt less like a natural progression of events, and more like the author was just sticking this event here and that event there, and dragging things out. Even though the book was so short. The tension was close to zero for most of the book and then went straight to 100 in the final few pages, although at the same time I couldn't really feel it? Because the ending didn't have the same nuance of emotion as the rest of the book did.
I didn't like the ending, and it didn't make much sense to me, even though I could see it coming. I don't really understand the point of this kind of books where practically nothing happens for the entire book, then something super dramatic happens at the end, and the book just ends without any aftermath.
At times, I enjoyed reading about the main character with the Tsar. Some of their conversations, their awkwardness and the dynamic in general felt pretty believable. But there was something about the way the story was told that didn't work for me. Even though there was clearly some kind of progression of things between them, I still feel like there wasn't. Events felt isolated in a way.
I think I technically understand what the author was trying to convey with how things happened, how the specific personalities of the two main characters and how they influenced each other, led to the way things ended, but at the same time something about it felt so random and incomplete. But I guess it's just the writing style that didn't work for me so much.
I wish I liked this book more than I did, because I think the ideas are good and someone who enjoys this kind of style will certainly love it. I wasn't bored while I read it, but I also wasn't amazed, and couldn't really feel what the characters felt because something in the writing stopped me from getting completely immersed.
The story itself fell a little flat for me. At times, it felt less like a natural progression of events, and more like the author was just sticking this event here and that event there, and dragging things out. Even though the book was so short. The tension was close to zero for most of the book and then went straight to 100 in the final few pages, although at the same time I couldn't really feel it? Because the ending didn't have the same nuance of emotion as the rest of the book did.
I didn't like the ending, and it didn't make much sense to me, even though I could see it coming. I don't really understand the point of this kind of books where practically nothing happens for the entire book, then something super dramatic happens at the end, and the book just ends without any aftermath.
At times, I enjoyed reading about the main character with the Tsar. Some of their conversations, their awkwardness and the dynamic in general felt pretty believable. But there was something about the way the story was told that didn't work for me. Even though there was clearly some kind of progression of things between them, I still feel like there wasn't. Events felt isolated in a way.
I think I technically understand what the author was trying to convey with how things happened, how the specific personalities of the two main characters and how they influenced each other, led to the way things ended, but at the same time something about it felt so random and incomplete. But I guess it's just the writing style that didn't work for me so much.
I wish I liked this book more than I did, because I think the ideas are good and someone who enjoys this kind of style will certainly love it. I wasn't bored while I read it, but I also wasn't amazed, and couldn't really feel what the characters felt because something in the writing stopped me from getting completely immersed.
maccymacd's review against another edition
2.0
Such a strange book, like a mixture of Muriel Spark and... another odd writer. I find this covered quite a taboo topic which was brave, but I didn't enjoy the writing at all! It was a drag to read until the last few pages where everything seemed to happen at once. I don't think I will be reading Beryl Bainbridge again...
woowottreads's review against another edition
2.0
Strangely, this popped up on horror/thriller lists I looked at. I can only assume the people compiling each list don't read horror at all. I'm sure this was shocking at the time, but now it is just tame, anticlimactic, and rather dry. It falls the machinations of two teen girls in a dumpy seaside town, as they discover--or attempt to--their sexuality and grasp of adulthood. And stuff happens. There are moments so subtle they remind me of Eddie Izzard's discussion of Merchant Ivory movies in 'Dressed to Kill.' But it doesn't have the emotional heft of the books those movies were based on. And then a murder happens, and it's absolutely ridiculous. I don't like what this book says about teenage girls or about female friendships. I'd try Ms Bainbridge again, but I didn't much care for this one.
And Harriet is awful, by the way. The narrator is no picnic either. I have minimal time or patience in my life for art that depicts teen girls in a negative way, because it happens too much. Also, this furthers my dislike for litfic.
And Harriet is awful, by the way. The narrator is no picnic either. I have minimal time or patience in my life for art that depicts teen girls in a negative way, because it happens too much. Also, this furthers my dislike for litfic.