Snobs...
or slobs
Julian
Fellowes you might remember wrote the screenplay for Gosford
Park - and won an Oscar for it. In this novel of manners
he tells the story of a social climbing young lady who manages
to capture the heart of a young heir. Once ensconced in the aristocracy
she puts it in jeopardy.
The story is told through the eyes of an actor who
is himself “part of the establishment” and is an easy
read. It’s a bit Jane Austen-ish in its portrayal of the
upper classes but reads in fact as a bit of a manual. Fellowes
observations seem incisive and accurate (how would I know that
they are?) and because the narrator is one of the fold so to speak,
you are able to both laugh at their foibles and sympathise.
I enjoyed the read.
A couple of observations in particular made me smile:
“To an Englishman or woman of a certain
background the answer, ‘Well, I’ve met them but
they wouldn’t remember me’ means ‘I have not
met them.’ “
And this one:
“The normal manner one has come to
expect from hosts and fellow guests alike in an English country
house is a state of moderately amiable lack of interest, The
guests loaf about, reading magazines, going for walks, having
baths, writing letters, without making any great social demands
of each other. Only when eating - and even then only really
at dinner - are they expected to ‘perform’. This
lack of effort, this business of people barely raising their
heads from their books to acknowledge one’s entry into
a room, may seem rude to a foreigner (indeed it is rude), but
I must confess it brings with it a certain relaxation.”
This last especially resonates with me. This is
the perfect kind of house guest. One who just “does their
own thing”. Who doesn’t expect you to entertain them
or to entertain you! Those kinds of visitors are exhausting.
Maybe there’s a thread of blue blood under
the polo fleece and ugg boots after all.
Cellobella
To read more of Cellobella's book reviews, check
out her blog at Red
Sultana.
