á

OURWINTER2006-7BOOKS

n July 1942 Irene Némirovsky,

author of the now-bestselling

Suite Franmise, wrote in her

notebook on her last clay of

freedom before she was

deported by the Nazis: 'The

pine woods all around me. I am

sitting on mv blue cardigan in

the middle of an ocean of

leaves, wet and rotting from last

night's storm, as if I were on a

raft, my legs tucked under me!

In my bag I have put Volume II

of Anna Kawnina, theJournal of

KM and an orange."Like

Katherine Mansfield,' wrote

Helen Dunmore in her Giuorlian

review of Suite Francaise,

Nemiroysky was an incisive critic

of her own work and her search

for simplicity reflects Mansfield's

own longing to purge her work

of effective little writerly tricks.'

--atherine Mansfield's

Journal is one of the great

:classics of twentieth century

literature but has not been in

pfint for many years. Yet it is a

uniquely truthful record of a

great writer at work, of the spirit

of a genius in the last ten years of

her life, and of the development

of the modern mind during the

early years of the last century.

ost Persephone readers

will have read

Katherine Mansfield's

stories, some of them in The

Montana Stories (Persephone

Book No. 25), which contains

everything she wrote during the

last year of her life when she was

livnig at Montana in Switzerland.

TheJournal was compiled by

her husband John Middleton

Murry soon after she died and

was published in 1927. It

consists of fragments of diary

entries, unposted letters, scraps

of writing, in other words

anything that was dated or could

have a date attributed to it and

that could be woven into a

volume called a Journal'.

atherine Mansfield had

not thought of posterity

reading anything she wrote

apart from her short stories

(even her dramatic monologue,

The Black Cap', reprinted on

p.10, was originally just an

experiment in dramatic form);

indeed, she asked Murry to

publish 'as little as possible'. But

failure to destroy something is

quite different from meaning

sometlnng to be read by others;

Nvhich is why Dorothy Parker said

of theJournal, 'so private is it

that one feels forever guilty of

prying for having read it.' For it

is indeed an intimate and self-

revelatory record of a writer's

mind, far more intimate, surely,

than Katherine would have

wanted it to be had she known it

would be published.

hus, unusually for its

time, theJournal is

honest, sharp, tragic and

over-sensitive (which is why

Virginia Woolf 's 1927 review,

which we have reprinted at the

end of the Persephone edition, is

headed 'A Terribly Sensitive

Mind'): but a writer's sharpness

and over-sensitivity, not a

gossip's or a politician's or a

mother's.

t is this aspect of being first

and foremost a writer's journal

that made us want to reprMt it,

for almost all the Persephone

writers, the ones who were

interested in the art of writing at

least, would have owned it and

read and re-read it. When the

Journal was first published in

1927 the poet Conrad Aiken

said: 'It is a fascinating, and

extraordinary, and in some

respects an appalling book. And

again and again one

is reminded of

Keats.' Partly he

meant this because

both died of

consumption and he

was referring to the

consumptive

temperament; partly

because both were

creative geniuses;

and partly because

both explored the

art, the act, of

writing every time

they put pen to

paper.

s in Virginia

. Woolf 's

Writer's

Diary, and then her

complete Letters

and Diaries, or in

Keats's Letters, the

reader can watch the

act of creation as it

happens in the mind

of the writer who

was above all else

'rooted in life'. This is

why so many saw Kath-

erine Mansfield as an

ideal. Christopher Isherwood

and Edward Upward, for

example, bracketed her with

Wilfred Owen and Emily Bronte:

'We talked about them as if they

were our personal friends,

wondered what they would have

said on certain occasions, or how

they would have behaved, N\hat

advice they would have given us.'

atherine Mansfield's

Journal is far more than

an intermittent record of

twelve years of a writer's life: it is

intensely observant,

self-critical, self-chastising,

confessional, atmospheric,

agonised and timny, an essential

document for anyone interested

in women's writing of the

last century and in one of its

greatest writers.

ur second

winter

book,

Plats du Jour, first

published in 1957,

is the fifth in

Persephone Books'

very successful

series of classic

cookery books: the

others are Good

Things in England,

Kitchen Essays,

Good Food on the

Aga and They Can't

Ration These.

ong before

this book

was thought

of, wrote the

authors, 'we had

separately evolved a

system of cooking

by which a variety

of dishes was

replaced by a single

plat du jour accomp-

anied, as a rule, by a

green salad, a respectable

cheese, and fruit in

season, and, wherever possible,

by a bottle of wine. This

conception of a meal underlies

this book.' It appeared at a time

when dishes such aspasta,

risotto,soupe aux poireaux et aux

haricotsor mackerelau vin blow

were still considered outlandish.

lats du Jour wasone ofJane Grigson's favouritebooks: if ever she sawone

in a jumble sale she bought it togive as a present. For,asthe well-knownfoodhistorian, AlanDavidson,wrote, 'it isa very good bookindeed. Its principalingredients, theknowledgeand amiableenthusiasm of theauthors, have given it alasting value.' Aridhepointed out that it is avery original cookerybook, written inunpretentious language,in an unprescriptive,relaxed wayby two cookswith whom it is easy toidentify.(Theywere alsorunning a small businessduring the twoyearsthey werewriting Plats

du Jour: we reproducetheir card on p.12.)

- he delightful and eye-catchingjacket which isnow the Persephone

endpaper (half of which isreproduced on 17.14)wasdesigned by DavidGentleman,who was 25 and had just left theRoyalCollege of Art. He haswritten in his bookArt Work:'Myillustrationswere based on

drawings and watercoloursmadein Provence,Burgundy andItaly...They were not whollyMediterranean. The cuts ofmeat were drawn in twobutchers' shops, one in Essexand the other in the meat-preparing room at Harrods,underneath the Food Hall. The

front cover showsa table at thestart of a meal, while the backcover showsthe tail end of it,with only the debris and thesleeping cats left. I had comeacrossplenty of precedents forthis before-and-after approach:strip cartoons, medieval chestsand illuminations, and paintings

such as Uccello'sgreat narrative scenesfrom the Old Testament.'

avid Gentleman believesthat 'Patience Gray andPrimrose Boyd's

admirable and practical Plats

du Jour [is]everybit as good asElizabeth David' and many will

agree with him. In fact,in terms of salesandinfluence it wasPatience Gray andPrimrose Boydwhowere the pioneers inintroducing Englishcooks to Frencheverydaycookery.Plats

du Jour sold 50,000copies in the first fewmonths afterpublication and100,000in the nextthree years, anastonishing amount atthe time. It wasonly inthe 1960sthat Elizab-eth Davidstarted tobecome a symbolof thetransformation ofEnglish middle-classeating habits. Beforethat Plats du Jour was

the favourite and mostinfluential French cookerybook.A fewPersephone readers willstill have their pink-covered1957 copies; now everyone canhave their own—in a slightlylarger format, with DavidGentleman's glorious cover asthe endpapers, on paper thatwillnot go brownwith age.

OUR REVIEWERS WRITEuriel Stuart's

enthusiastic

1championing of avanished style of small-scaleEnglish gardening is both

charming and historically

interesting,' wrote Matthew

Dennison in House and Garden.

'Gardener's Nightcap is, as its title

suggests, a series of essays,

nuggets, even single paragraphs,

on all aspects of gardening,

intended for reading last thing atnight in the shadowy minutes

before sleep. It combines

determined practicality with a

strongly poetic even fancifulstreak. Last century it delighted its

first generation of readers: for

different reasons, it will delightagain.' And Image magazine in

Ireland called Gardener's Nightcap

'a witty and beautifully illustratedcollection of gardening advice.'

— dge publications' Jason

—Salzenstein said that The

...—,,.,,Runaway'is more than just

a children's book. As pure andinnocent as it is adventurous and

fun to read, the fact that The

Runaway is written in English

long since past only adds to its

charm and amusement. Withdialogue like "... for a sensible,clever girl, which you undoubt-

edly are, you are a great little

goose", how could you not beamused? Elizabeth Anna Hartshould be recognised for her

sprightly, exciting and endearing

writing that has an appeal (to

both children and adults) that has

lasted well past its time. Lucky for

us.' The same reviewer began his

piece about Someone at a

Distance by saying, 'I don't know

if I'm a complete feminist (or was

in a former life) but there isn't a

book in Persephone's collection

that I haven't liked. Someone at a

Distance is another excellent

selection, and a brilliant andentertaining novel. Of course the

fact that it is the story of a

perfectly happy" family anti theeerily before-its-time destruction

of that marriage (and happiness)

could have something to do withwhy I enjoyed this book so much.

Or maybe it was because the

seductress that comes to visit is ayoung French woman, so filled

with sensuality that I just couldn't

help but get drawn in. All thebooks in the Persephone

collection are interesting,

engaging, and well written —

Someone at a Distance, however,

has that special somethMg extra

that sets it apart... It's a rare find.'

n the GuardianMaxim

Jakubowski reviewed The

, Expendable Man: 'Dorothy BHughes is best remembered for

The FallenSparrowand In a Loneh

Place,both of which were made

into cult movies. This reissue ofher final novel, first published in

1963, is most welcome, anexhilarating no-holds-barred

semi-political noir thriller

denouncing racial abuse in the

:American southwest. A doctor

picks up an attractive teenagefemale hitchhiker and runaway on

an Arizona mad and begins a

slow,systematic descent into an

American hell. It took real guts

to write [this novel] at the time of

the Goldwater presidential

campaign, Governor \\Mace's

declarations and much simmering

racism. The book still grips like avice, and hasn't dated one bit.'

n an article in the Gualthan the

'food for free' pioneer Richard

Mabey referred to Vicomte deMauduit's 'splendidly titled'

They Can't Ration These (1940,

Persephone Book No. 54) andthe Ministry of Food's own

pamphlet, HedgerowHarvest

(1943), both of which 'moved theHome Front out into the wild,

with recipes for the obligatory

rose-hip syrup, and sloe and

marrow jam: "If possible crack

some of the stones and add tothe preserve before boiling to

give a nutty flavour" An

epicurean touch, but prefaced bythe first strictures about picking

etiquette: "None of this harvestshould be wasted, but be

exceedingly careful how you

gather it in... don't injure the

bushes or trees. When you pickmushrooms, cut the stalks neatly

with a knife, leaving the roots inthe ground."

NTER N-

FROM THE DEEPENING STREAMBY DOROTHY CANFIELD FISHER

One of DorothyCanfield

Fisher'scentral themesis the

freedom of the child

emitrastedwith the constraintsof the

adult. In The Home-Maker

(PersephoneBook No. 7) Lesterand

Ei angeline 'role-swop'—he staysat

home with the childrenand is a

perfict Montessorifiaher,shegoes to

work in 0 deportmentstoreand is

(wryhappy. Throughout the hookthe

unspoken questionis asked:what me

the childrengrowing opp»-? Is it to

slave behind an Vice desk: to stay at

home cooking,deanoig, mending,

grumbling: 01 to frel a sense of

achievement and joy selling clothes

and corning the •Minily's living?

Here. ii? The Deepeni)ig Strealn.

W1111011 SLY Vol's Off The Home-

Maker in 1930, and alsoset in

li,i-mma.DorothyCanfieldFishff

again contrasts children's play Irith

adult -work and again the question i.,

asked —why don't grown-upsplay?

fter supper 'Can-I-go-

out-to-play?' rose in

every dining-room. It

was a mere formula. It meant, 'I

am going Out to play unless I am

stopped', and it was followed —in

spite of occasional grasping but

usually futile grown-up efforts to

get some chores done by the

children —by a running dive out

of the kitchen or dining-room

door into enchantment.

There were were always

children around, who met like

meeting drops of water. To the

yelling and shouting of the game

which they instantly started,

flocked all the other children as

soon as they were freed —freed

from sitting respectably at the

table to eat, from helping wash

dishes or mind the baby, or from

a spelling lesson to make up.

Encountering in the twilight a

group of children madly

scattering, a newcomer needed

but to shout, 'Who's it?' and.

`Where's the goal?' and he was

ready to turn and race as madly

as the others, his heart

contracting in the joyful ang-uish

of the pursued, although the

moment before he might have

been sadly emptying out the

garbage pail.

A foreigner would have

thought them completely

abandoned by their elders. But

he would have been mistaken.

Any child at any moment could

be fished out of the sea of play.

Their apparently lawless

freedom was governed by one

ordinance. No child under any

condition was to 'go off the

block' without permission. A call

from any porch could reach the

children wherever they were.

'Your mother's calling you!' had

a certain fixed speech-tune to

which it was always sung, pre-

ordained bv-tradition.

Moreover; the children were

always either audible or visible to

the mothers, who, as they worked

inside their homes or sat on the

porches sewing, watched over the

playing children with as

unforgetting a reflex faithfulness

as that of the sentries of a grazing

herd jerking their heads up after

every three bites to make sure that

all is svell. It is true that nobody

even glanced out of a window so

long as the shrill chorus of

screams seas audible, near or far.

But if a silence fell, the inmates of

the houses, no matter how

absorbed in their own affairs, soon

looked to see what was happening.

If there was no visible explanation

of the silence hi the shape of a

mumble-de-peg 01-jack-stone

group, mothers stepped out. One

called to another; who passed it

clown the line, 'What are the

children up to?' Almost always a

reassuring bulletin was passed

back, such as 'They're M

Schaumberger's barn playing still

pond.' By the unspoken tradition

Mrs Schaumberger then became

special guarchan. She knew exactly

how much noise and how frequent

bursts of it were natural to that

game, and if there were not

enough, felt herself called upon to

go out unobtrusively on an errand

to the barn. That a silent child

meant a child in mischief was an

aphorism of all those parents.It was the other way around for

the grown-ups. With the

exception of a very few academicand professional families, the

grown-ups on any block were

silent enough. life for diem

was work, as life for the

children was play. When they

stopped work at traditionalresting-times it was as though

they stopped living. They sat

indoors in upholstered

'stationary rockers', their eves

fixed on the newspapers held

up in front of them, or they

sat outdoors in wooden or

wicker rockers on the front

porch, their eves fixed on

nothing at all. Either way,

silence was a bv-pioduct of

the hour.

Sometimes they recognised

their dullness and felt depressed,

but for the most part they

thought they were too tired to do

more than sit in a peaceable

qtnet in their own houses,

rocking and letting the drained-

out pool of energy fill slowly upso that they could go back to

work the next day. The

disagreeable sensation of

stagnation was averted from diemen by the occasional attentions

needed by pipe or cigar, from the

women by crocheting or darning.These sagging grown-ups did

not purposefUlly thus create

vacancy about them in their

leisure hours. What was there for

them to do which would be

interesting enough for people oftheir age to pay for the exertion

of doing it? The block was

divided into children who

played for their lives, and adults

who worked for their livings.

Such elders cast a reflection intothe lives of the children. Not

only of their own, but of all the

hard-playing throng streaming

around them like a school ofswift small fish, flashing about

barnacle-covered barges. Thechildren could not help seeing

that the grown-ups were not

haying half 'such a good time' in

their off hours as they. Half?There was no comparison. Day is

not merely twice as bright asnight: it is something different.

The children saw this and knew

that the grown-ups saw it too.

Their own instincts told the

children that it was a great pity

to grow up and stop playing and

go to work. Since the grown-upsthought so too, there could be

no doubt about it.

Once a man left behind

him at the end of business

hours the grim interest in

exacting work, he saw

nothing for it but to give

himself up to resignation.

But resignation could not

shut his eyes to the vitality

of the child who darted

quivering out of the twilight

to hide behind his chair. At

the sight of it, his own

middle-aged flesh felt lead-

heavy on his bones.

Envying the children theirpassionate enjoyment, they

sat heavily in their rockers, their

cigar-tips red in the twilight, thekindly bored wistful fathers on

the block, carpenter, plumber,

butcher, storekeeper, grocer, too

conscientious, too tired, too

responsible to look for

passionate eMoyment in whisky

and women, the only grown-upsources of it of which they hadever heard. They envied the

playing children, and out of thelove fbr them which was perhaps

the deepest joy in their ownlives, they pitied them, because

every day was taking them

farther away from the best andhappiest passage in human life.

THE PERSEPHO\I. - an Englishman by Cicely

Hamilton: 1919 prize-winning novel about

the elfect of WWI on a socialist clerk and a

suffragette. Preface. Nicola Beauman

Mariana by Monica Dickens: First

published in 1940, this very Mnnv first novel

describes a young girl's life in the 1930s.

Preface: Harriet Lane

Someone at a Distance by Dorothy

Whipple; 'A very good novel indeed'

(Spectator) about the tragic destruction of a

lormerly happy marriage (pub. 1953).

PitOce: Nina Bawden

Fidelity by Susan Glaspell: 1915 novel by a

PuliDer-winning author brilliantly describing

the long-term consequences of a girl in Iowa

running off with a married man. Prelce.

Laura Godwin

An Interrupted Life by buy Hillesum:

Frolel 1941-3 a young woman in Amsterdam.

'the Anne Frank for grown-ups-. wrote diaries

and letters which are among die great

documents of elle time Preface: Eva Horfbian

The Victorian Chaise-longue bvMarghanita Laski: A 'hale jewel of horror':

Melly' lies on a chaise-longue in the 1950s

and isakes as -Milly 80 years before. Preface:

PD James

The Home-Maker by Ihnothv Canfield

Fisher; Ahead of its time :remarkable and

brave 1924 novel about being a house-

husband' (Carol Shields). Preface; Karen Knox

Good Evening, Mrs Craven: the Wartime

Stories of Mollie Pallier-Downes; Superbly

written short stories, first published in The

Nen, Thrher from 1938-44. Five or them w-ereheiCe read on R4. Preface: Givgory Lelitage

Fete Eggs and No Oranges by Vere

Hodgson. A 600-page diary. written from

1040-45 in Notting Hill Gate. fhll of acute

observation, wit and humanity. Preface:

Jenny Hartley

Good Things in England by Florence

\ Vhite: 'Ehis comprehensive 1932 collection of

recipes inspired niftily, including Elizabeth

David.

Julian Grenfell by Nicholas Moslev: A

biography of the First World War poet, and tif

his mother Ettie Desborough. Preface: author

It's Hard to be Hip over Thirty and Other

Tragedies of Married life by Judith Viorsi:

Funru:. wise and weary 1960s poems about

marriage. children and reality Pivface: author

E 70Consequences by EM Delafield: By

the author of The Diary of a Pandac tat Lady.

'his 1919 novel is about a girl entering a

convent after she fails to marry PFeface:

Nicola Beauman

Farewell Leicester Square by Betty

Miller: Novel tby Jonatlian Miller's mother)

about. a Jewish Film-director and 'the discieei

discrimination of the bourgeoisie' (Guardian).

Preface: (lane Miller

Tell It to a Stranger by Elizabeth Berridge:

1947 short stories which were twice in the

Eneninz Standard bestseller list; they are furmy.

observant and bleak. Preface: AN Wilson

Saplings In: Noel Streatfeild: An adult

novel by the well-known author of Ballet Shoes,

aboul the destructicm of a family during

WWII: a RI ten-part serial. Afterword:

Jeremy Holmes

Marjory Fleming by Oriel Malen A

deeply empatheiic novel about the real life of

ihe Scottish child prodigy who lived from

1803-1l: now published in France; was a play

on Radio Scotland,

IS. Every Eye by Isobel English: -5nunusual

1.956 novel about a girl avelling to Spain.

highly praised by Muriel Spink: a R4 Alien-mon

Play. in 2094_ Prefaces Neville Braybrooke

They Knew Mr Knight by Dorothy

Whipple: An absorbing 1934 novel about a

man driven to c(unmitting fraud and what

happens to him and Ins fannly: a 1913 film.

Preface: Terence Handley MacMath

A Woman's Place by Ruth _Adain. Asuivey or (.20th women's lives. very readably

li•riRen In: a novelist-historian: an overview

lull or insights. Prel'ace: Yvonne Roberts

Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day by

Winifred Watson: A delightful 1938 novel

about a governess and a night-club singer.

React on R4 by Maui:col Lipman; to be

published in Inance this autumn. Prehice:

Henrietta IWycross-Martin

Consider the Years by Virginia Grahon,

Sharp, funny, evocative Vents by Joyce

Grenfell's closest friend and collaborator.

Preface: Anne Harvey

Reuben Sachs by Amy Levy: A fierce

1880s satire on the London Jewish

comuninity by 'the Jewish lane Austen' who

was a friend or Oscar Wilde, Preface: Julia

Neuberger.

Fannly Roundabout by Riclimal

Crompton: By the 1171liesinbooks author, 1948

flimih: saga contrasting two matriarchs and

their very diflerent children. Preface: Juliet

.Wkrord

The Montana Stories by Katherine

Mansfield: Collects together the short stories

written during she author's last year; with a

detailed publisher's note and [lie

contemporary illustratWins. Five were read on

R4 in 2002.

Brook Evans by Susan Glaspell: A very

unusual novel, written in die same year as

Lady ChaBerley', Loner, about the enduring

effect of a love affair on three generations of

a family.

The Children who Lived in a Barn by

Eleanor Graham: A 1938 classic about five

children fending foe themselves; shu-ring the

mill-a:gettable hay-box. Preface: Jacqueline

Wilson

Little Boy Lost by NIarghanim Laski:

Novel about a father's search for I9s son in

France in 1945, chosen by the Gamilian's

Nicholas LezinA as his 2001 Paperback

Choice. A R-1 'Book at Bedtime' read by Jamie

GloveL Alleivord: Anne Sebba

The Slaking of a Marchioness by

Frances Hodgson Burnett: A wonderfully

entertaining 190l novel about the ensuing

melodrama when a governess marries well,

Preface: Isabel Raphael. Afterword:

Gretchen Gerzina

Kitchen Essays by Agnes.fekyll: Witty and

uselid essays about cooking. with recipes.

published in The TiMeS and reprinted as a

book in 1922. 'This is one of the best reads

outside Elizabeth David' WIcite

gastropoda.com.

A House in the Country by Jocelyn

Playfair: An unusual and very interesting 1.944novel about a group of people living in the

country during WWII. Preface: Ruth Gorb

The Carlyles at Home br Thea Holme: A

1965 mixture of biography and social history

which very entertainingly describes -Fhornas

and Jane Carlyle's life in Chelsea.

The Far Cry by Emma Smith: A

beautifully writien 1949 mwel about a young

girl's passage to India: a great Persephone

favourite. 'Book at Bedtime' in 2004.

Preface: author

Minnie's Room: 't he Peacetime Siories of

Mollie Pamer-Downes 1947-1965: Second

volume of short stories first published in The

Neu, liaTee, previously unknown in the UK.

Greenery Street by Denis Mackail: _A

defighthrl. very firmly 1925 novel about a

young couple's first year of married life in a

(real) sfreci in Chelsea. Prel9ce; Rebecca Cohen

Lettice Delrner by Susan Miles: A unique

I920s mivel in verse describing a girl's stormyadolescence and path to redemption, much

admired by 'IS Eliot.

The Runaway by Elizabeth Anna Hart: A

Sictorian novel fbr childinn and gross n-ups.illustrated by Gwen Raverat. Jfhere never wasa happier book' ((ountry Lik, 1936).

.Aftersvois. Anne Harvey. Frances Spalding.

Cheerful Weather for the Wedding byJulia SUZChey: Ali:limy and quirky 1932novella by a niece of Lytton Strachey. praised

by Virgnsia \boll'. Preface: Frances Partridge.

Manja by Anna Clines:1sec A 1938 Germannovel. newly ti anslated. about live childrenconceived cm the same night in 1920 and

their lives until the Nazi takeover Preface:EVa Ibbotson (daughter of the author)

The Priory by Dorothy Vhipple: .-\ much-loved 1939 novel abom thine generations or afamily, and their sen-ants. living in a large

country house. Pinl'ace: David Conville.

lIostages to Fortune by Elizabeth(.ambridge. 'Deals with domesticity wit(outbeing in the least bit cosy. (Harriet Lane,Olmeroe,-),a remarkable fictional portrait ol adoctor's family in imul Oxfords/01-e in the1920s.

The Blank Wall by Elisabeth SanxayHolding: 'The top suspense writer of themall (Chandler). A 19)7 thriller about amother who shields her daughter hum ablackmailer fihned as both The Recido.,s

Moment in 1949 and Tim Decp End in 2001.A BBC 124 serial in 2906.

The Wise \ "irgins by Inonard Woolf: Thisis a wise and witfr: 1911 novel contrasting thebohemian \ irguna and \ anessa seeds Gwen.the girl next door in 'Richsteack (Putney).Preface: I ynclalI Gordon

Tea With Mr Rochester by FrancesTowers: Magical and unseuling 19-49 stories, a

surprise favourite, that are unusuallybeautifidly written: read on 134 in 2003 and2006. Pi-el-lice:Frances Thomas

Good Food on the Aga by AmbroseHeath: A 1932 cookery book for Aga userswhich can nevertheless be used by anyone;with numerous illustrations bv Edwai-dBawden.

Miss Ranskill Collies Home. by BarbaraFnphan lorld: All unsparing. wry 1946 novel:Miss Ranskill is shipwrecked and returns towarrime England. Preface: \Wndy Pollard

The New House by Lettice Cooper: 1936porrayal of the clay a family moves to a newhouse, and the resulting tensions andadjustments. Prefilce:lilly Cooper

The Casino by Maigaret Bonham: Short

stories by a 1940s writer with a unique voice

and dark sense of humour: they were read onBBC Radio 4 in 200-4 and 2007. Preface: Cary

Bazidgette.

Bricks and Mortar by Helen Ashton: An

excellent 1932 novel by a voy popular pre-and post-war writer, chronichng the life of ahard-wor(ing and kindly London architect

over thirty-five years.

The World that was Ours Isv Ililda

Bernstein: An extraordincti, memoir that

reads like a novel cif the events before and

alter the 1964 Rivonia Trial. Mandela wasgiven a life sentence bus the Bernseeinsescaped to England. PreInce and Afterword:the author

Operation Hearibreak by Duff Cooper: A

soldier misses going to sear - until the end ofhis life. .34te novel I enjoyed more than amother in the immediate post-sear years' iNfriaBawden). A:hens:old: Max .Wihur

The Village by Margliesilita Laski: 'IThis

1952 comedy of manners describes post-weirreadjusements in village life when love ignoresthe class barrier. Afterword: Juliet Gardiner

Lady Rose and NIrs Memmary Es Rubs:Ferguson: A romantic 1937 novel about Lads-Rose Tin:genet, who inherits a gLeat hoise.marries well - and Men meets the love of herlife on a park bench 11inFace:2TancliaMcl1711iani

They Can't Ration These by Viconne deMaudlin: A. 1940 cookety book about 'Foodfor free', la of-excellent eand nowfashionable) recipes.

Flush by Virginia Weioll: .Alight-heartedbut surprisingly fenthsist 1933 'hfc-' of ElizabethBarinu Browning's spaniel, 'a little masterpieceof comedy' (T/T5). Preface: S,illi Beauman

They Were Sisters by Dorothy Whipple:The fourth Persephone book by tinswonderful writet-, a 1943 novel that contraststhree very diffeinnt marriages. PinInce: CeliaBrayfield

The Hopkins Manuscript by RC ShoLiff:What might happen if the 111000crashed intothe earth in 1946: 19341science fictionWritten' by 'Mr Hopkins'. Preface: MichaelMomnock, Afterword: the late George (,amow

Hetty Dors:al by Ethel Wilson: First novel(1947) set in the beautiful landscape of BritishColtnnbia: a young girl is befriended by abeautiful and selfish 'Menace' - but is shelAftersvord: the late Northrop Frye

There Were No Windows by NomilsHoult: A touching and fmmy novel. written in1944, about an elderly woman with memoryloss living ill Kensington (-hiring die blitz.Afterword: Julia Briggs.

Doreen by Barbara Noble: A 194-6 novel

about a child who is evacuated to the country

during the wan Her mother regrets it; shefainilv that takes her in wants to keep her.

Pinflice: Jessica Mann

A London Child of the 1870s by Molfr

Hughes. A classic autobiography, WEitteo in1931, about an 'oidinarv, suburban Victorianfamily' in Islington. esginat favourite wilh all

ages. Preface: Adam Gopnik.

How to Run Thur Home Without Helpby Kay Smallshaw: A 1949 manual For theIseWly sweintless housewife htll of advice thatis historically inteinsting, useful nowadaysand. as well, unintentionally humorous.

Prefnce: Christina Hardyment

Princes in the Land bs:Joanna Carman: Anovel pubhshed in 19341about a daughter of

the aristocracy Who marries au Oxford don;her three childinn fail to turn OM as she hadhoped.

The Woman Novelist and Other Storiesby Diana (,ardner: short stories written Us thelate 1930s and early 14)40s that are witty,sharp and with an unusual undertone.Preface: Claire Gardner

Alas. Poor Lady by Rachel Foguson: A

1937 novel, which is polemical lint intenselyreadable about the unthinking cruelty withwhich Victorian parents gave birth to

daughters without anticipating any future fin-them apart fi111 marriage.

Gardener's Nightcap by Muriel Stuart: Ahuge variety cif miniature essays on gardening- such as Dark Ladies (fritillary), BeeterGooseberries, Pldox 17tiluire- which will lieenjoyed by all gardeners. keen or lukewarm.First published ill 1938.

The Fortnight in September by RCSheniffi _A1931 novel by the author of/OilIlists End, and The Hopkins Manuscript,about a family on holiday in Bognor Regis: aquiet masterpiece.

The Expendable Man by Dorothy BHughes: A 1963 thriller set in Arizona by thewell-known American crime writer: it waschosen by the critic HRE Keating as one ofIsis hunch-of best crime nmels. Afterword:Dominic Power

Journal of Katherine Mansfield: 'Hie

husband of the great short story writer (cf.The Monona Stories) assembled this journalfrom unposted letters, scraps of writing- etc, togive a unique portrait of a woman writer.

Plats du Jour by Patience Gray andPrimrose Boyd: a 1957 cookery book sdlichwas 0 bestseller at the time and a pioneeringwork for British cooks. The superb black arn1white illustiutions and the colouredendpapers cue by David Gentleman.

'THE BLACK CAP' BY<ATHERI\E MA\SFIELDOne of Katherine Mansfield's

Experimentsin Dialogue,first published

in NewAge May 17th 1917.

(A lady and her Ilushandare seated

at breakfast.He is quite calm,

reading the ne'spa per and eating;

but She?iSstrangelyexcited,dressed

fir t)avelling and onlypretending to

eat.)

She: Oh, if you should want your

flannel shirts, they are on the

right-hand bottom shelf of the

linen press.

He: (at o boardmeetingof the Meat

Export Company).No.

She: Ibu dichs't hear what I said. I

said if you should want your

flannel shirts, they are on the

right-hand bottom shelf of the

linen press.

He: (positroely).I quite agree!

She: It does seem rather

extraordinary that on the very

morning that I am going away

you cannot leave the newspaper

alone for five minutes.

He: (mddly). My clear woman.

I don't want you to go. In fact,

I have asked you not to go. I

can't for the life of me see...

She: You know perfectly well that

I am only going because I

absolutely must. I've been

putting it off and putting it off,

and the dentist said last time...

He: Good! Good! Don't let's go

over the ground again. We've

thrashed it out pretty thorough-

ly, haven't we?

Servant. Cab's here. m'm.

She: Please put my luggage in.

Servant. Very good, m'm.

(She gives a tremendoussigh.)

He: You haven't got too much

time if you want to catch that

train.

She: I know. I'm going. (In a

changedtone.) Darling, don't let

us part like this. It makes me feel

so wretched. Why is it that you

always seem to take a positive

delight in spoiling my

enjoynsent?

He: I don't think going to the

dentist is so positively enjoyable.

She: Oh, you know that's not

what I mean. You're only saying

that to hurt me. You know you

are begging the question.

He: (laughing). And vou arelosing your train. You'll be back

on Thursday evening, won't you?

She: (in a low,desperatevoice).Yes,

on Thursday evening. Good-bve,

then. (Coniesover to him, and takes

his head in her hands.) Is there

anything really the matter? Do at

least look at me. Don't you —care

—at —

He: My clarlMg girl! This is like

an exit on the cinema.

She: (lettingher handsjail). Very

well. Goodbye. (Givesa qui(k

tragicglance mund the (11)11)7g-room

and goes.)

(On the way to the station.)

She: How strange life is! I didn't

think I should feel like this at all.

All the glamour seems to have

gone, somehow. Oh, I'd give

anything for the cab to turn

round and go back. The most

curious thing is that I feel if he

really had made me believe he

loved me it would have been

much easier to have left him. But

that's absurd. How strong the hay

smells. It's going to be a very hot

day. I slmll never see these fields

again. Never! never! But in

another way I am glad that it

happened like this; it puts me so

finally, absolutely in the right for

ever! He doesn't want a woman

at all. A woman has no meaning

for him. He's not the type of

man to care deeply for anybody

except himself. I've become the

person who remembers to take

the links out of his shirts before

they go to the wash —that is all!

And that's not enough for me.

I'm young —I'm too proud. I'ns

not the type of woman to

vegetate in the country and rave

over 'our' own lettuces...

What you have been trying to

do, ever since you married me is

to make me submit, to turn me

into your shadow, to rely on me

so utterly that you'd only to

glance up to find the right time

printed on me somehow, as if I

were a clock.Youhave neverbeen curious about me; younever wanted to explore my soul.No; you wanted me to settledown to your peacefulexistence.Oh! howyour blindness hasoutraged me —how I hate youfor it! I am glad —thankful —thankful to have left you! I'm nota green girl; I am not conceited,but I do knowmy powers. It's notfor nothing that I've alwayslonged for riches and passionand freedom, and felt that theywere mine by right. (She leans

against the buttonedbackof the cab

and murmurs.) 'Youare a Queen.Let mine be thejoy of givingyouyour kingdom.' (She smilesat her

littleroyalhands.) I wishmy heart_didn't beat so hard. It reallyhurtsme. It tires me so and excitesmeso. It's likesomeone in a dreadfulhurry beating against a door...This cab is only crawlingalong;we shall never be at the station atthis rate. Hurry! Hurry! Mylove,I am coming as quicklyas ever Ican. Yes,I am sufferingjust likeyou. It's dreadful, isn't itunbearable —this last half-hourwithout each other... Oh, God!the horse has begun to walkagain. Whydoesn't he beat thegreat strong brute of a thing...Our wonderful life!Weshalltravel all over the world together.The wholeworld shall be oursbecauseof our love.Oh, bepatient! I am coming as fast as Ipossiblycan... Ah, now it'sdownhill;nowwe reallyare goingfaster. (An old man attemptsto cross

the road.) Get out of my way,youold fool!He deserves to be runover... Dearest—dearest; I amnearly there. Only be patient!

(At the station.)

Put it in a first-classsmoker...There's plenty of time after all.A full ten minutes before thetrain goes. No wonder he's nothere. I mustn't appear to belooking for him. But I must sayI'm disappointed. I neverdreamed of being the first toarrive. I thought he wouldhavebeen here and engaged acarriage and bought papers andflowers....Howcurious!I absolutelysawin my mind apaper of pink carnations...He knowshowfond I am ofcarnations. But pink ones are notmy favourites.I prefer dark redor pale yellow.He reallywillbelate if he doesn't come now.The guard has begun to shut thedoors. Whatevercan havehappened? Something dreadful.Perhapsat the last moment hehas shot himself... I could notbear the thought of ruining yourlife... But you are not ruining mylife.Ah, where are you? I shallhave to get into the carriage...Who is this?That's not him! Itcan't be —yes, it is. What on earthhas he got on his head? A blackcap. But how awful!He's utterlychanged. What can he bewearing a black cap for?I wouldn'thave knownhim.Howabsurd he lookscomingtowardsme, smiling,in thatappalling cap!He: Mydarling, I shall neverforgivemyself.But the mostabsurd, tragic-comicthinghappened. (Theyget into the

carriage.)I lost my hat. It simplydisappeared. I had half the hotellooking for it. Not a sign!Sofinally,in despair, I had to

borrowthis from another manwhowasstayingthere. (The train

movesoff) You'renot angry?(Ries to take her in his arms.)

She: Don't!We'renot even out ofthe stationyet.He: (ardently).Great God!Whatdo I care if the wholeworldwereto see us I (Triesto take her in his

arms.) Mywonder! Myjoy!She: Pleasedon't! I hate beingkissedin trains.He: (profoundlyhurt). Oh, verywell.Youare angry.It's serious.Youcan't get over the fact thatI waslate. But if you onlyknewthe agony I suffered...She: Howcan you think I couldbe so small-minded?I am notangry at all.He: Then whywon'tyou let mekissyou?She (laughing hysterically).

Youlook so different somehow—almost a stranger.He: (jumps.up and looksat himself

in the glass anxiously,and fatuously,

she decides).But it's all right, isn'tit?She: Oh, quite all right; perfectlyall right. Oh, oh, oh! (She begins

to laugh and ay with rage.)

(Theyarrive).

She: (whilehe gets a cab). I mustget over this. It's an obsession.It's incrediblethat anythingshould change a man so. I musttell him. Surelyit's quite simpleto say:Don't you think now thatyou are in the cityyou had betterbuy yourselfa hat? But that willmake him realisehow frightfulthe cap has been. And theextraordinary thing is that hedoesn't realise it himself.I meanif he has lookedat himselfin the

WINTER 2006-7 N032 11

Undertake rescatch w((rk and reportwriting of all kind at the rate of5/- an hour plus expense,and will complete any commi,:ionaccurately, fully and promptly

glass,and doesn't think that captoo ridiculous,howdifferentourpoints of viewmust be... Howdeeply different!I mean, if I hadseen him in the street I wouldhave said I could not possiblylovea man whowore a cap likethat. I couldn't even have got toknowhim. He isn't my styleat all.(She looksround.) Everybodyissmilingat it. Well,I don'twonder!The wayit makeshisears stickout, and the wayitmakeshim have no back to hishead at all.He: The cab is ready,my darling.(TheNget in.)

He: (triesto take her hand). Themiracle that we twoshould bedriving together, so simply,likethis.(She arrangesher veil.)

He: (tries to take her hand, very

ardent). I'll engage one room,my love.She: Oh, no! Of courseyou musttake two.He: But don't you think it wouldbe wisernot to create suspicion?She: I must have my ownroom.

Primrose Bo).d

and Patience Gray

18 RHUI1T S PARK ROAD \ 1

Telephone PRImrose 0942

(Toherself)Youcan hang your capbehind your own door! (She

beginsto laugh hysterically.)

He: Ah! thank God! Myqueen isher happy selfagain!

(Atthe hotel.)

Manager: Yes,Sir,I quiteunderstand. I think I've got thevery thing for you, Sir.Kindlystep this way.(He takes them into a

small sitting-room,with a bedroom

leading out of it.) This would suityou nicely,wouldn't it? And ifyou liked,we could makeyou upa bed on the sofa.He: Oh, admirable!Admirable!

(The Manager goes).

She: (furious).But I told you Iwanted a room to myself.What atrick to play upon me! I told youI did not want to share a room.Howdare you treat me like this?(She mimics)Admirable!Admirable!I shall never forgiveyou for that!He: (overcome).Oh, God, what ishappening! I don't understand —I'm in the dark. Whyhave Vou

suddenly,on this day of days,ceased to love me? What have I

done? Tellme!She: (sinkson the sofa). I'm verytired. If you do loveme, pleaseleaveme alone. I —I onlywant tobe alone for a little.He: (tenderly).Verywell.I shall tryto understand. I do begin tounderstand. I'll go out for half-an-hour; and then, my love,youmay feel calmer.(He looksround,

distracted.)

She: What is it?He: Myheart —you are sitting onmy cap. (Shegives a positivescream

and moves into the bedroom.He

goes. She waits a moment,and then

puts down her veil, and takesup her

suitcase.)

(In the taxi.)

She: Yes,Waterloo.(She leans

back.)Ah, I've escaped—I'veescaped!I shalljust be in time tocatch the afternoon train home.Oh, it's like a dream —I'll behome before supper. I'll tell himthat the citywastoo hot or thedentist away.What does itmatter? I've a right to my ownhome... It willbe wonderful

driving up fromthe station: thefieldswillsmellso delicious.There is coldfowlfor supperleft over from

nturies) yesterday,and•

orange jelly_I have beenmad, but now Iam sane again.Oh, myhusband!

SPECIAI,

ExhilUtion work, Apphed arkbh,orical and antiquarian re,earch for authorsPrints, Paintim. and ArchitectureFurniture and Decoration (18th an:119thFrench and German ,ourcesBibliography, CartocraphyIndoor Gardenin, and Horth.ultureOffice organi,ation. equipment and methodKitchen equipment and practice

Wheneuvr neces,arc reports be presentedwith d, awinp. sketch, or maw,.No conunissIon '1,1_7 t,oI u• it/tutu full authority.Every bill rendered icith time siwet.

RESEARCH WORK has been carried out forThe Civil Service. 'flu, Festival of BritainBritish Industries Fair, Design Research UnitThe Architertural Review, The B.B.C.

12 )UARTFRLY

THE PERSEPHONE CLASSICS

N ext year Persephone istaking a new direction,in fact those of you

who have been to the shoprecently may already havenoticed some changes: theformer kitchen has become aroom of one's own for JoannaEverard, who starts onDecember 4th as Director,Persephone Classics.

The reason for this newdevelopment is as follows:someof our books, we are proud tosay,have sold between five andten thousand copies (withMissPettigrew out ahead at anamazing twenty thousand). Yetwe are sure there are potentialPersephone readers who are noton our mailing list.

Sowe have decided to try andfind them and in the Spring of2008 wewill relaunch some ofour best-sellingtitles in a newedition and they willbe sold inbookshops;we are tentativelycalling these the PersephoneClassics(tentativebecause aren'tthe others classicstoo?)Although we are keeping thegrey,and part of the endpapers,the Classicswilllook slightlydifferent,with a beautiful pictureon the cover,the kind that hasbeen appearing on the front ofthe Quarterly;quotes fromreviews on the back; and

bookshop-friendlyblurbs ratherthan a quotation on the flap.

The Persephone Seventy(as itnow is)willgo on, we hope, to

become Eightyor Ninety or aHundred, but we plan in futureto publish four newbooks a yearinstead of eight, twoin April andtwoin October; the Persephone

Quarterlywillbecome thePersephoneBiannually (in thesense of twicea year not everyother year). The shop, theevents, the cards, the mugs,indeed all the elements of whichour ten thousand readers havegrownfond will remainunchanged. But in 2008 you willbe able to go into a bookshopand see some of your favouritebooks, for example Someone at a

Distance, Little Boy Lost and TheMaking of a Marchioness, in anew format. Wedo hope youapprove.

HILDA BERNSTEIN 1915-2006

In 2002 Hilda Bernstein wasbrought by the writer LyndallGordon to a PersephoneTea

in Oxford. Then aged 87, shewaswhite-haired, charming andmodest; one would have had noidea, on first meeting her, of herimportance in the history ofSouth Africa.

I yndall suggested that she

send us a copyof Hilda's 1967book The World that was Ours

and from the very first paragaphwewere shaken and involved.Itis a memoir of the monthsleading up to the 1964RivoniaTrial at whichNelson Mandelawasfound guiltybut Hilda's

husband Rusty,on trial with theother 'men of Rivonia',wasacquitted; he and Hilda thenmanaged to escape from SouthAfricaand the last third of thebook, an account of their flightover the border, is as gripping asany thriller.

Hilda agreed to write a newPrefaceand Afterwordfor aPersephoneedition of The Worldthat teas Ours, and then began awonderfulperiod when wevisitedher at her smallhouse onthe canal at Kidlington,nearOxford, and got to knowthisextraordinarilybravewoman —because,as a speaker,activistandwriter,she had opposedapartheid with the utmostcourage and determination, allthe while looking after her familyand maintaining the facade ofbeing 'only a housewife'.

Hilda died in September 2006.

13

á

A Grey DayQueer, this habit of mine of being garrulous.

And I don't mean that any eye but mine shouldread this. This is—really private. And I mustsay—nothing affords me the same relief. Whathappens as a rule is, if I go on long enough, I breakthrough. Yes, it's rather like tossing very largeflat stones into the stream. The question is,though, how long this will prove efficacious. Uptill now, I own, it never has failed me. . . .

One's sense of the importance of small eventsis very juste here. They are not important at all.

? Strange ! I suddenly found myselfoutside the library in Wcerishofen : spring—lilac—rain—booksin black bindings.

And yet I love this quiet clouded day. A bellsoundsfrom afar ; the birds sing one after anotheras if they called across the tree-tops. I love thissettled stillness, and this feeling that, at anymoment, down may come the rain. Where thesky is not grey, it is silvery white, streaked withlittle clouds. The only disagreeable feature ofthe day is the flies. They are really maddening,and there is nothing really to be done for them :I feel that about hardly anything.

The Barmaid.

She had an immense amount of fuzzy hairpiled up on top of her head, and severalvery largerings, which from their bright flashing look, youfelt certain were engagement-rings.

Above all cookingsmells I hate that of mutton chops. It is somehow such an ill-bred smell. It

183

Fl\ALLYhere are stillsomeplaces

availablefor the Persephone

Teas near Chichesteron

November25th and near Bath onDecember2nd —please phone forfurther details.There are noticketsleft fbr Hermione Lee's

lecturebut a fewfor thePersephone Lunch on December

7th at whichPamelaNorris willtalk about 'WomenWriters and

the RomanticHero'. There willbe a Christmas Party at the shop

from 6-8 on TuesdayDecember12th;Joanna Everardwillsayafewwordsabout startingworkon the PersephoneClassics;mincepies and mulledwinewillbe served;and our bookswillbefor sale for £9 instead of £10.There is no charge for this eventbut it wouldbe helpfill ifyouwould let us knowifyou wouldlike to attend.

007 events: the film of- They Were Sisters in

January is sold out. OnThursday March 15th there willbe a Persephone Lunch from12.30-2.30to commemorateHilda Bernstein, at which herdaughter Frances Bernstein willtalk about her mother. And at aLunch on Thursday April 26thVirginiaMcKenna,Anne Harveyand PatriciaBrakewill give arepeat performance of 'SecretGardens': a Celebration ofWomen Gardeners, a programmedevised partly to celebrate

PERSEPHONE BOOKS

020 7242 9292

Gardener's Nightcap bv Muriel

Stuart, Persephone Book No. 66.Placesat these twoevents cost£28 each. And do try and come

along to the book group in theshop from 6.30-8 on the firstWednesdayof each month: inDecemberwe shall discussThe

Victorian Chaise-longue, in

The Store Cupboard

Januar (the 10th not the 3rd)The Home-Maker, in February

Good Evening, Mrs Craven, in

MarchFew Eggs and No Oranges

and in AprilJulian Grenfell.

Lastly:on SaturdayApril 14ththere 1611be a Persephone Tea inNewYork.Detailswillbe sent outto East Coast Persephone readersin January.

he Independent chose ten of

our books for the 'Hit List'in its Box Officecolumn.

The followingweek it chose our

websiteas one of 'The FiftyBestE-Boutiques'along with, forexample, Net-A-Porter;Abe books,Topshop, Graham and Green andthe ScienceMuseum Store,

he first Spring 2007book willbe House-

Bound by Winifred

Peck. In 1985 the TLS asked

contributors to choose anunjustly neglected book whichthey would like to seereprinted and the latePenelope Fitzgerald chose thisnovel which is by her aunt:" The story —as the titlesuggests—never moves out ofmiddle-class Edinburgh. Thesatire on genteel living,though, is alwayskept inrelation to the vast severanceand waste of the war beyond.'Fiveyears ago PenelopeFitzgeraldwrote a PersephoneAfterword for House-Bound

and this will now be publishedfor the first time. Our otherSpring book is a new selectionof short stories by Dorothy

Whipple, whichwe have calledSaturday Afternoon and Other

Stories. There will be very fewpeople reading this quarterlywho need an introduction to thewonderful DorothyWhipple —four of her novels appear on ourlist and two of her short storieshave been published in thePersephone uorterh.

- .L,rot, • AN N kry

.\\

\:\

Printed by the Larenham Press,Lavenham, Suffblk.

If we havefailed to acknowledgesomething that appears in the PersephoneOuarterly,please let us know.

© PERSEPHONE BOOKS LTD 59 LAMB'S CONDUIT STREET LONDON WC1N 5NB

TEL: 020 7242 9292 FAX: 020 7242 9272

-