Some recent reading

Three things read, to be discussed over the next few days....

First, Mrs. Miniver. I had seen the movie some years back, but the book is VERY different. I prefer the book. The movie was made later in the war and is generally believed to have been partly propaganda to encourage the US to come and help Britain. In the book, the war is JUST beginning (it's still mostly the so-called "phoney war" of 1939: Britain had officially declared war, but no military operations had taken place, and no bombing had happened). So rather than seeing the family shelter in an Anderson shelter, and rather than seeing Clem (was he called Clem in the movie?) involved with the Dunkirk Evacuation (which is in itself a fascinating episode, and, I think, shows the courage of the pilots of those "little ships"), we see just glimpses: the family going to pick up gas masks (which is a sufficiently foreboding thing to think about). And mention of changes due to the war (the children being evacuated, with the rest of their school, to the country). And evacuees being taken in at the Miniver's country house.

But mostly, the book is Mrs. Miniver's internal thoughts. Vintage Reads notes that it began as a series of articles, and it really is a set of loosely connected episodes - any one chapter could be read in isolation of the others.

The writer at Vintage Reads also noted that she found Mrs. Miniver more "smug" than the Provincial Lady (of the eponymous diary-book, which I also intend to read). I did not notice that, but then again, I suppose different upbringings or attitudes cause one to see different things. I mainly saw in Mrs. Miniver someone who had decided to be HAPPY in life, happy regardless of what happened (well, perhaps not at the dentist's). Someone who can see the small things in life and take joy in them - I think I referred earlier to her purchasing chystanthemums:

"....carrying her big sheaf of chrysanthemums down the street with a kind of ceremonious joy, as though it were a cornucopia..." and later her happiness over the fact that they are the "big, mop-headed kind" and are burgundy in color.

(It's also from the first chapter that we read: "Her normal life pleased her so well that she was half afraid to step out of its frame in case one day she should find herself unable to get back." Would that all of us were so blessed.)

There are so many good passages and good lines in this book, so many things that made me chuckle with delight or say, "That's a particularly nice way of thinking about it" that it's hard to come up with some good quotations. I will say I probably liked the book better than I might because there are places where I recognize things I do:

"Mrs. Miniver was a fool about inanimate objects. She had once bid furiously at an auction for a lot described as 'twelve kitchen chairs; also a small wicker knife-basket.'...[later when Clem asks her about it]...'No,' she said, guiltily. 'I'm awfully sorry. It was that knife-basket. I suddenly thought - so wretched not to be grand enough to be in a lot by itself.'"

She also remarks, about Aunt Hetty (a maiden aunt of the family): "...at least one daughter in every generation ought to remain unmarried, raise the profession of auntship to a fine art..." That's a nice way of looking at it, rather than, "That poor woman, she will never know the joy of having children of her 'own.'"

Her joy is not fully unalloyed, but as I said, she seems to be a person who tries to be happy. But she's also aware of the gathering clouds in Europe, and there's one passage where we're made aware that she and her family know and are horrified at what's happening to the Jewish people of Europe, but they as individuals are powerless to do anything to stop it. And also, at a Guy Fawkes Day celebration:

"However, nobody noawadays was burnt at the stake. The unfortunate ones of the world were subjected to a more lingering torment, and the fortunate ones were merely condemned to watch it from a front seat, unwilling tricoteuses at an execution they were powerless to prevent. The least they could do was not to turn away their eyes...." (And there is later talk of "doing what they could that it never happens again." Though you do wonder, is there a way that it could have been prevented in the first place?)

It's a book I highly recommend. Despite the shadow of war and genocide that fall over the book, by and large it's what I'd call a restful book - there is no ugly family drama, little in the way of arguments (other than the good-natured joking sort), no one in their immediate circle suffers misery. And I think you need that (or at least, I need that) as a reader, sometimes. To take a break from books where people hurt each other, or even things like Dickens (as wonderful as he is), where there is real agony and sadness. 

I wonder if it is the sort of book that could be written today; there is no sense of angst or guilt or wondering if she made a "bad choice" in life. Mrs. Miniver is married with three children - granted, in those times, to be a single woman, unless you were independently wealthy, would be more difficult than it is now. Luckily she married well and happily - clearly she and her husband Clem love each other and enjoy one another's company, even trying to arrange for her to meet him for lunch some days (in the book, as in the movie, Clem is an architect, though in the book he seems to be considerably better off than in the movie). It seems to be the fashion now to encourage people to look at their lives and wonder if they made the "right" choice (though in some cases, I would remark, "choice" is more or less foisted upon one - no, women are not required to marry these days out of economic necessity, but there are some who remain or become unmarried, even though they might want to be married, because of circumstance). And there DOES seem to be a strain in American culture that is aimed at making women (and possibly, people in general, though as a woman I do see it seemingly more aimed at women) question their choices and feel guilty for not living a "different" way than they do - just look at the so-called "Mommy Wars" that (artificially) pitted stay at home moms against moms in the paid workforce, and how the pendulum swung from the idea that if you went back to work, your children would be feral beasts raised in a Lord of the Flies like day care setting, to the idea that if you chose to stay at home, your children would turn out as smothered mommies-boys or girls, and you would be a traitor to your gender for not going out and being part of the workforce. (I'm exaggerating, but not too greatly, the positions). And meh, you know what? That's the bad old one-size-fits-all mentality playing there. Are some women better off in the workforce, with their kids in daycare, or with a nanny, or with a stay-at-home dad or grandma or whoever? Yes. Are some women better off staying home with their kids? Yes. And also, I would add: are some women better off choosing not to have kids at all, and pursuing a different path? Also yes.

And again I say: can't we just let people make their own choices, do what works best for them? (And granted, in an ideal world, people would get to CHOOSE. But I know lots of women who work out of economic necessity would would much rather stay home with their kids)

Any hint of "smugness" or privilege aside (and yes, I acknowledge that Mrs. Miniver lives a very privileged life), Mrs. Miniver is a very enjoyable book, from the standpoint of how its protagonist can find joy in even little things, and who has (apparently) chosen to be happy in life.

Also: after scanning a few more posts over at Vintage Reads, it's going on my blogroll. And I'm going to read Diary of a Provincial Lady soon.