One of the nice things about being me is that I always have a steady supply of books to read. On my desk are two generous stacks of new books to be read. I’ve an entire bookshelf (floor to ceiling with six long shelves available) of books I’ve read and loved and will happily read again. I’m not likely to fall short if, say a pandemic strikes and I can’t leave the house.
Ahem.
These days, that’s a very handy trait. I’m reading a lot here in my locked down world and the end of March featured a great re-read: Barbara Pym’s Excellent Women. Set in 1950s London and told from the point of view of Mildred, herself an “excellent woman” the book is an engaging observation of human nature. The phrase “excellent women” is British and refers to unmarried gentlewomen of a certain age. Women like Mildred abounded in British society in the 20th century, when more women than usual were unmarried thanks to a shortage of marriageable men generated by the World Wars of the period.
Mildred is unmarried and in her mid 30s, the daughter of a now-deceased vicar. She lives happily alone in London and is just as happily a self-declared spinster. She tells a story that is honest and offers a pointed commentary on her world, rather in the tone of a Jane Austen narrator. This is delightful and just my sort of read. As is the case in some of my favorite English novels, the arc of the story is focused on the seemingly hum drum nature of daily life. In the moments, nothing magnificent occurs. But lives, meaningful ones, are lived. And I always find that it is the small moments that make a rich life. This book was a re-read and a good one for a time period when current events were anxiety producing. I read it with a cozy blanket and a cat on my lap, one of the small daily moments of my life that makes for much satisfaction and happiness.
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