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A review by thisisgettingstupid999
Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day by Winifred Watson
1.0
“Now Delysia’s a little devil and there’s times I could flay her alive, and obviously she needs a little physical correction, but I’m the only right man to do it.”
A book, written in the 1930s, about a forty-year-old spinster – I knew it would contain stereotypes that we wouldn’t expect to find today. I was prepared for that and willing to get into the story.
However, once the initial premise (spinster turns up at glamorous nightclub singer’s door and gets sucked into her life) had worn off, very little seemed to happen. There were three men, all who were involved with Delysia (the singer) and who I couldn’t tell apart. There was lots of boring, repetitive dialogue. If you’re going to write a story that’s farcical, at least make it fun.
There were some parts that I did enjoy, such as when Miss Pettigrew gets a makeover, and her scene with Joe in the taxi. But it just wasn’t enough to make up for the sexism, the ageism and the occasional bit of racism (the disparaging comments about Jews being particularly chilling given the time it was written).
The plain woman was homeless; the glamorous one had her rent paid by a man. The implication of the ending is that both women (either directly or indirectly) will be saved by marriage to a man. This is the kind of book from the past that makes me say ‘hooray for feminism!’
A book, written in the 1930s, about a forty-year-old spinster – I knew it would contain stereotypes that we wouldn’t expect to find today. I was prepared for that and willing to get into the story.
However, once the initial premise (spinster turns up at glamorous nightclub singer’s door and gets sucked into her life) had worn off, very little seemed to happen. There were three men, all who were involved with Delysia (the singer) and who I couldn’t tell apart. There was lots of boring, repetitive dialogue. If you’re going to write a story that’s farcical, at least make it fun.
There were some parts that I did enjoy, such as when Miss Pettigrew gets a makeover, and her scene with Joe in the taxi. But it just wasn’t enough to make up for the sexism, the ageism and the occasional bit of racism (the disparaging comments about Jews being particularly chilling given the time it was written).
The plain woman was homeless; the glamorous one had her rent paid by a man. The implication of the ending is that both women (either directly or indirectly) will be saved by marriage to a man. This is the kind of book from the past that makes me say ‘hooray for feminism!’