A review by elenajohansen
To Let by John Galsworthy
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
While I'm aware the series goes on--I'm only reading these because I got the sixth book from a subscription box--the end of this work is clearly the end of a trilogy, a story, and even an era.
Without spoiling any of the actual plot (because if you're interested in reading this at all, knowing what happens would ruin the soap-opera-saga aspect) I'm again inclined to examine how feminist, or not, this book is. In my review of the first novel I spoke of the disdain Galsworthy seemed to have for the British middle class and their strict notions of property, including believing women were property, and found a great deal of satire in his depiction of this sprawling family. In my review of the second, I was a little disappointed that the structure of the plot treated Irene as an object even while purporting that her agency and happiness were important.
Here, I feel we've bounced back to something very close to modern feminism in terms of the Soames/Irene schism. When I skimmed some reviews of the first book before I started, there were readers who were discussing whether they were Team Soames or Team Irene, basically, even if they never used those terms. By this point, though, I would view someone who joins Team Soames as unironically declaring themselves to be a garbage human being who believes they have the right to own other people. The narrative spends a great deal of time with Soames and shows his deepest character without reservation, but only someone who can't understand subtext would believe the author condones his behavior, and the ending supports this, as the specter of what Soames did to Irene haunts their respective children.
I thought overlaying a tale of star-crossed lovers with the end of the tale of the older generation was an interesting way to lead the story forward; and while their love affair is far less concerned about whether women are property or not--Jon never once thinks of Fleur in that context--it was fascinating to read it unfold genuinely not knowing whether, but gradually growing to suspect that, they could not outrun the consequences of their parents' actions.
If I have any criticism of this, it's that the constant old-person haranguing of youth and newfangled technology was dull and tired, even if it was in character for the person espousing it. I hated that attitude when I was a child and teenager, hearing it from my elders. Now that I'm in my forties, I'm consciously making an effort not to fall into the same "the kids these days" way of thinking. It helps that I genuinely don't believe things were better then than they are now--I wouldn't trade the social progress or the technology I have access to for some imagined rosy nostalgia about the 1980s, because so little about the 1980s was good except the music!
Without spoiling any of the actual plot (because if you're interested in reading this at all, knowing what happens would ruin the soap-opera-saga aspect) I'm again inclined to examine how feminist, or not, this book is. In my review of the first novel I spoke of the disdain Galsworthy seemed to have for the British middle class and their strict notions of property, including believing women were property, and found a great deal of satire in his depiction of this sprawling family. In my review of the second, I was a little disappointed that the structure of the plot treated Irene as an object even while purporting that her agency and happiness were important.
Here, I feel we've bounced back to something very close to modern feminism in terms of the Soames/Irene schism. When I skimmed some reviews of the first book before I started, there were readers who were discussing whether they were Team Soames or Team Irene, basically, even if they never used those terms. By this point, though, I would view someone who joins Team Soames as unironically declaring themselves to be a garbage human being who believes they have the right to own other people. The narrative spends a great deal of time with Soames and shows his deepest character without reservation, but only someone who can't understand subtext would believe the author condones his behavior, and the ending supports this, as the specter of what Soames did to Irene haunts their respective children.
I thought overlaying a tale of star-crossed lovers with the end of the tale of the older generation was an interesting way to lead the story forward; and while their love affair is far less concerned about whether women are property or not--Jon never once thinks of Fleur in that context--it was fascinating to read it unfold genuinely not knowing whether, but gradually growing to suspect that, they could not outrun the consequences of their parents' actions.
If I have any criticism of this, it's that the constant old-person haranguing of youth and newfangled technology was dull and tired, even if it was in character for the person espousing it. I hated that attitude when I was a child and teenager, hearing it from my elders. Now that I'm in my forties, I'm consciously making an effort not to fall into the same "the kids these days" way of thinking. It helps that I genuinely don't believe things were better then than they are now--I wouldn't trade the social progress or the technology I have access to for some imagined rosy nostalgia about the 1980s, because so little about the 1980s was good except the music!