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giuliagale's review against another edition
funny
relaxing
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
5.0
sunsetcypress's review against another edition
funny
lighthearted
reflective
relaxing
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
This second book in the series remains a staple of the genre. If you are interested in a comedy of manners satirizing the British high-society of the interwar period, this book is basically perfect. As befits the genre, the focus on characterisation trumps the actual plot and the pacing is quite slow, but these elements obviously will always relate to preferences more than actual critiques.
That being said, the text is pleasant to peruse, very funny and consistently so, suitable for a light-hearted read and palate cleanser. I was actually surprised by how modern it read, both in commentary and in the choice of ending. I was not expecting Nancy Mitford to reveal herself as a secret unicorn polyamory truther. In very broad terms, a “unicorn” refers to a (bisexual) person who third-wheels alongside a straight couple – the potentially uneven power dynamics being the topic of great debate in kink circles. Over the course of the book, Lord and Lady Montdore find themselves not one, but two of these archetypes – one in Boy, their brother-in-law and the other in Cedric, a flamingly, gloriously gay man and the new heir who supplants their daughter. Though it is to be mentioned that Lord Montdore is not a true participant in this rather unhinged dynamic, but more of a blissful ignorant, satisfied that his wife has her energies engaged in some pursuit. The tone with which this situation is handled is, no doubt, humorous, but, though there is a noted societal shaming, the narrator remains very open-minded and even relieved about this arrangement.
Those with a more moralistic disposition will not be tremendously inclined towards what is really a bleak storyline: wealthy heiress Polly is molested by her uncle(-by-marriage) when she is a young girl (the nature of this abuse is not really made very clear beyond some inappropriate touching), is unable to truly connect with her parents or develop a strong sense of sense or of purpose and, instead, rushes to marry her uncle (Boy Dougdale) after her aunt suddenly dies. Her parents are extremely disappointed and thus disinherit her. She goes abroad with her new husband, visiting Spain and Italy, settling in Sicily, lives on very little money, develops an uncomfortable amount of xenophobia as she refuses to engage with the local populace, language and culture and quickly becomes disillusioned with her husband (who has always been a serial cheater). When another aunt dies and leaves them her small fortune, they come back home, Polly gives birth, but their baby quickly dies, with no one caring about it, not even the mother. During his first marriage, Boy had been Lady Montdore’s lover and constant companion (the worst kept secret in aristocratic circles apparently), but now they reconcile with the help of Cedric, who has latched onto Lady Montdore and is sexually interested in Boy. They form a sort-of threesome at the end of the book, Lord Montdore none-the-wiser or closing his eyes to all this, while Polly is whisked off by some other old, impoverished man bearing the title of the Duke of Paddington (lol), perhaps to repeat the cycle one more time.
To the author’s credit, the pages do contain commentary on these inappropriate behaviours, on the lack of parenting skills or true care Polly’s parents provided, on Lady Montdore’s narcissism and unyielding nature, on how quickly Polly is replaced by Cedric in her parents’ hearts and even on Polly herself: how un-preoccupied she is with everyone and everything and how she treats her own life with so little consideration or planning.
I, myself, was quite disappointed to hear the character of Davey, whom I generally love, defend Boy so often, but I suppose it would not be so far-fetched in terms of realism, since Davey is also (unfortunately) a man and would have carried some toxic preconceptions of his own. However, in spite of the campy, jocose tone with which Polly’s marriage to Boy is handled, there are many instances in which characters remark upon how unseemly Boy’s behaviour is, are all-around appalled by the whole situation and even attempt to change Polly’s mind.
The topic of marriage is, of course, at the centre of the novel, how it impacts one’s life and how important it is, especially for women, to chose the “right” husband. However, unlike other rom-coms, not many female characters are presented as having truly fulfilling marriages, even the narrator herself. (Exceptions to this rule would be Aunt Emily with Davey, on the one hand, and even, surprisingly, Aunt Sadie with Uncle Matthew, on the other.) But Fanny often remarks on how useless her husband Alfred is, how he never takes an interest in anything other than his studies and, most annoyingly, how he struggles to even see human beings as distinct people. The man is constantly criticising Fanny’s predilection and involvement in the gossip and in the lives of her loved-ones, as if he is some sort of superior creature of intellect because the patriarchy allows him to live like a dumbass in his ivory tower and not suffer any consequences for not forming and nurturing social bonds.
That being said, the text is pleasant to peruse, very funny and consistently so, suitable for a light-hearted read and palate cleanser. I was actually surprised by how modern it read, both in commentary and in the choice of ending. I was not expecting Nancy Mitford to reveal herself as a secret unicorn polyamory truther. In very broad terms, a “unicorn” refers to a (bisexual) person who third-wheels alongside a straight couple – the potentially uneven power dynamics being the topic of great debate in kink circles. Over the course of the book, Lord and Lady Montdore find themselves not one, but two of these archetypes – one in Boy, their brother-in-law and the other in Cedric, a flamingly, gloriously gay man and the new heir who supplants their daughter. Though it is to be mentioned that Lord Montdore is not a true participant in this rather unhinged dynamic, but more of a blissful ignorant, satisfied that his wife has her energies engaged in some pursuit. The tone with which this situation is handled is, no doubt, humorous, but, though there is a noted societal shaming, the narrator remains very open-minded and even relieved about this arrangement.
Those with a more moralistic disposition will not be tremendously inclined towards what is really a bleak storyline: wealthy heiress Polly is molested by her uncle(-by-marriage) when she is a young girl (the nature of this abuse is not really made very clear beyond some inappropriate touching), is unable to truly connect with her parents or develop a strong sense of sense or of purpose and, instead, rushes to marry her uncle (Boy Dougdale) after her aunt suddenly dies. Her parents are extremely disappointed and thus disinherit her. She goes abroad with her new husband, visiting Spain and Italy, settling in Sicily, lives on very little money, develops an uncomfortable amount of xenophobia as she refuses to engage with the local populace, language and culture and quickly becomes disillusioned with her husband (who has always been a serial cheater). When another aunt dies and leaves them her small fortune, they come back home, Polly gives birth, but their baby quickly dies, with no one caring about it, not even the mother. During his first marriage, Boy had been Lady Montdore’s lover and constant companion (the worst kept secret in aristocratic circles apparently), but now they reconcile with the help of Cedric, who has latched onto Lady Montdore and is sexually interested in Boy. They form a sort-of threesome at the end of the book, Lord Montdore none-the-wiser or closing his eyes to all this, while Polly is whisked off by some other old, impoverished man bearing the title of the Duke of Paddington (lol), perhaps to repeat the cycle one more time.
To the author’s credit, the pages do contain commentary on these inappropriate behaviours, on the lack of parenting skills or true care Polly’s parents provided, on Lady Montdore’s narcissism and unyielding nature, on how quickly Polly is replaced by Cedric in her parents’ hearts and even on Polly herself: how un-preoccupied she is with everyone and everything and how she treats her own life with so little consideration or planning.
I, myself, was quite disappointed to hear the character of Davey, whom I generally love, defend Boy so often, but I suppose it would not be so far-fetched in terms of realism, since Davey is also (unfortunately) a man and would have carried some toxic preconceptions of his own. However, in spite of the campy, jocose tone with which Polly’s marriage to Boy is handled, there are many instances in which characters remark upon how unseemly Boy’s behaviour is, are all-around appalled by the whole situation and even attempt to change Polly’s mind.
The topic of marriage is, of course, at the centre of the novel, how it impacts one’s life and how important it is, especially for women, to chose the “right” husband. However, unlike other rom-coms, not many female characters are presented as having truly fulfilling marriages, even the narrator herself. (Exceptions to this rule would be Aunt Emily with Davey, on the one hand, and even, surprisingly, Aunt Sadie with Uncle Matthew, on the other.) But Fanny often remarks on how useless her husband Alfred is, how he never takes an interest in anything other than his studies and, most annoyingly, how he struggles to even see human beings as distinct people. The man is constantly criticising Fanny’s predilection and involvement in the gossip and in the lives of her loved-ones, as if he is some sort of superior creature of intellect because the patriarchy allows him to live like a dumbass in his ivory tower and not suffer any consequences for not forming and nurturing social bonds.
‘Just a narrow edging of white.–’ I heard Cedric say, through the open door, as they came down the passage.
Later on I remembered to ask Alfred what could have led up to this remark, so typical of Cedric but so untypical of the conversation in that house, and he replied that they had been having a most fascinating talk on burial custom in the High Yemen.
‘I fear,’ he said, ‘that you bring out the worst in Cedric Hampton, Fanny. He is really a most intelligent young man, interested in a large range of subjects, though I have no doubt at all that when he is with you he confines himself, as you do, to remarks in the nature of “and did you notice the expression on her face when she saw who was there ?” because he knows that general subjects do not amuse you, only personalities. With those whose horizon is a little wider he can be very serious, let me tell you.’
God forbid women (and gay men) have hobbies!
Uncle Matthew remains a highlight of the series, with his many eccentricities and disproportionate reactions to everything. A new habit of his is introduced, namely writing down the name of various people he hates on many different pieces of paper and placing them in drawers throughout the house, superstitiously convinced that this gesture will no doubt bring about their deaths. In the absence of Linda, Fanny’s younger cousins, Jassy and Victoria are allowed to shine and become another high point of the book, with their many visits to Fanny’s house and chaotic opinions expressed loudly and boldly. It’s rather endearing to think that we still have a similar sense of humour today.
‘Come and be analysed,’ was their parrot cry. ‘Let us rid you of the poison that is dogging your mental processes, by telling you all about yourselves. Now, suppose we begin with Fa, he’s the simplest proposition in the house.’
‘What d’you mean, simple?’
‘ABC to us. No no, not your hand you dear old thing, we’ve grown out of palmistry ages ago, this is science.’
‘All right, let’s hear it.’
‘Well, so then you’re a very straightforward case of frustration – wanted to be a gamekeeper, were obliged to be a lord – followed, as is usual, by the development of over-compensation so that now you’re a psycho-neurotic of the obsessive and hysterical type engrafted on to a paranoid and schizoid personality.’
‘Children, you are not to say these things about your father.’
‘We don’t think you quite realize how bitterly offended we reel over your behaviour to us the last year or two.’
‘Now, now children, we’ve had this out a thousand times,’ I said firmly.
‘Yes, well, it’s not very nice of you. After all, when you married we rather naturally expected that your home would open up all the delights of civilized society to us, and that sooner or later we should meet, in your salon, the brilliant wealthy titled men destined to become our husbands. “I loved her from the first moment I saw her, the leggy little girl with the beautiful sensitive face, who used to sprawl about Mrs Wincham’s drawing-room at Oxford.” Well, then, what happens ? One of the richest partis in Western Europe becomes an babitué de la maison and are we thrown at his head by our cousin, naturally ambitious for our future, does she move heaven and earth to further this splendid match? Not even asked to meet him. Spoilsport.’
‘Go on,’ I said, wearily.
‘No, well, we’re only bringing it up’ – Victoria here fled the room, Jassy took no notice – ‘in order to show our great magnanimity of soul. The fact is that we know a very interesting piece of news, and in spite of your counter-honnish behaviour we are going to tell it to you.
But we want you to realize that it is pretty noble of us, when you take everything into account, his flashing eyes, his floating hair, only seen in the distance, it is such a shame, and I must wait for Vict, to come back or it would be too unfaithful, and can we have some tea, she’s always starving after.’
‘I like tea now, please,’ said Jassy, ‘which shows how long since you saw us. I like tea and I almost like coffee. So the news is, Napoleon has left Elba and is on his way back.’
‘Say it again.’
‘Dense. Nobody would think that you were a hostess to the younger cosmopolitan intellectual set, noted for her brilliant repartee.’
‘Do you mean Polly ?’ I said, light suddenly dawning.
‘Very bright of you, dear.'
Overall, I gave it 4.5/5 stars because integrating it in the Alconleigh fictional universe proved to be a little tricky. There is no mention of Polly, Cedric or the Montdores at all in the first book, even though the second book purports that they were active presences in our narrator Fanny’s life – obviously because they were created after the publication of “The Pursuit of Love”. The second book is also quite bereft of Linda (her name is mentioned from time to time, but not enough observations or thoughts about her to feel deeply organic), which creates a strange effect after reading about the great impact she had on everyone’s lives. I believe this choice was done to avoid contrasting her too much to Polly, the new heroine whose marriage prospects occupies centre stage, but the author either missed (or was not interested in) the opportunity for a rather intriguing comparison between the two potential rivals.
On the whole, Polly was given a much drabber personality than the compelling and joyous Linda, another aspect I would single out as a flaw of the book, as Polly’s interiority is not afforded the same complexity as Linda’s – rather, she is reduced to an apathetic young woman with no distinguishable opinions or desires of her own, other than strong dislikes. Though, perhaps Polly should be analysed more as a sexual assault victim with arrested development, rather than the spoilt, simple girl she is often perceived as. Perhaps the novel should have done better in this regard, to build upon that point, but a more cynical observer can claim that, even so, it does more than a lot of recent media and in a more honest and nuanced manner. Or, not necessarily nuanced, but, at least in a way that is conducive to more… contemplation.
Content Warnings
Minor: Misogyny and Pedophilia
jamie_el's review against another edition
emotional
funny
lighthearted
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
This sequel to "The Pursuit of Love" is far more light-hearted and humorous than the first book. I found the focus was a lot more on the plot and the silliness of the characters this time, rather than on the rather reflective and observational tone of the first one. I enjoy it very much as a comfort read that introduces many aspects of life in the 1930s, but it is far from revolutionary writing.
paulbehan's review against another edition
funny
lighthearted
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.5
onebaddielotsbooks's review against another edition
funny
relaxing
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
meganmalloy's review against another edition
lighthearted
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
hungerford's review against another edition
funny
lighthearted
relaxing
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
5.0
esraq's review against another edition
3.75
There’s something so unique about Nancy Mitford‘s writing with which she delivers the most eccentric details and gossip (as really this and most of the first book are predominantly focused on gossip), that before I knew it I realised I became almost as invested as Fanny even in the quite lame and boring things in the Radlett’s and Montgomery’s etc lives. Mitford‘s imperfect characters are such dear ones that I know I’ll miss reading about them as well as the general home like experience of reading that came with these books