T
he Tall Stranger by D.E. Stevenson ~ 1957. This edition: Ace, 1978. Paperback. ISBN: 0-441-79621-4. 252 pages. (Note: This is not the cover of the paperback, but of the original hardcover dustjacket. The Ace paperback illustration is quite a different thing! I will spare you it.)
My rating: 8/10.
Yes, it’s a very high rating for what is basically a “fluff” book, but it was what I needed last night, after a very trying day (condensed version – an unexpected visit to the vet with our 13-year-old dog and $2000 in emergency surgery fees, prognosis a guarded “fair”, upgraded to “good” when it was apparent that she handled the surgery very well indeed, all things considered) and it (the story) made me forget our combined woes for a bit, and made me happy. Maybe I should even put it up a point or two more for that!
Postscript – the dog is back home and looking most happy to be here; though rather sore and stiff after her internal surgery. Feeling optimistic this morning that all will be well with her for at least the near future, because, realistically, at 13, the inevitable final parting is not all that far away. This is the dreadful bit about sharing your home and heart with pets…
*****
This is one of D.E. Stevenson’s minor romantic novels which doesn’t get much press – I don’t think I’ve ever read anything about it at all. And probably for good reason – it’s a slight little thing, and the characters are nothing if not “stock”. But I loved it!
So here we have two roommates in a London flat. Barbara – Barbie – works for an interior decorating firm, while Nell is a secretary to a doctor. As the story opens, Barbie is in hospital with a mysterious virus, exceedingly ill. To cut a long story short, she recovers, due to timely intervention by Nell’s employer, and the loving care of Barbie’s Aunt Amalie and her companion-housekeeper Miss Penney.
Now toss in a charming but shifty love interest for Barbie, Aunt Amalie’s handsome stepson Edward, and a mysterious “tall stranger” met briefly at a crowded wedding. Relocate the action to a rather shabby castle on the Scottish border, garnish with a lovable child (and one not quite so immediately lovable), various charming clients-cum-friends, a basket of kittens, a dramatic storm and a rescue from an island, another love interest for Nell (looks aren’t everything in a man, you know), and there you go. One trials-and-tribulations-overcome-with-a-very-happy-ending double (quadruple?) romance.
Not very realistic, but lovely to escape into. Nicely done, Dorothy Emily!
I promised myself I’d just post and run with this one, because it’s really not the material for any sort of deep analysis, but I feel like sharing this snippet from midway through, because of course spring is, by the calendar at least, here; my life (and nursery greenhouse) is full of plants and my mind is full of gardening plans, and I too have a fondness for, but, sadly, no luck with, the lovely willow gentian.
The garden was now at its best; wistaria rioted over the south wall, its branches bowed down with their weight of blossom, and the willow-gentian in its cool shady spot was beginning to come into flower. Soon the little bushes with their slender stems would bear narrow bells of deep blue flowers, and the corner of the garden where they grew would look like a pool of blue water. Amalie was very fond of these gentians, she had grown them herself from a few seeds gathered on a visit to Switzerland. She had been told that they would not grow here in the Cotswolds but they had liked their new home and had thriven and multiplied under her care.
Amalie was in no hurry for them to flower. She would have held back the garden if she could … for, as each plant flowered and faded, she knew that it was gone for a whole year. The longest day was long past … Next year was such a long time to wait … all through the dead winter. Summer days passed too quickly, thought Amalie, and then she thought, but there are still the chrysanthemums to come and the dahlias and the proud upstanding gladioli and the gold of the ripe corn in the garvest fields and the flames ofthe autumn leaves!
The years do pass so swiftly, as do the days of the garden and the moments of each flower’s particular glory, but (apt thought with Easter coming and all) there is at least the eternal resurrection of plant life each year to look forward to. For every thing there is a season, if you’ll forgive the overused but most appropriate quotation, though (increasingly, it seems with the passing years) the season in question is often too brief. Would I freeze time if I could? Perhaps occasionally…
I’m going to my sister’s 50th birthday party today, so please forgive my rather angsty ramblings. Half a century. No matter how casual we are about joking that 50 is the new 40, it’s a slightly sobering milestone!
Leaves & Pages 
First, my heart genuinely goes out to you and your dog; I’m glad she’s doing better. I have a ten yr old myself and now comes the time when I pet her and I sometimes find myself thinking that her time here is not that much longer and I cannot imagine her gone. Then I silently curse myself for doing this animal thing again! But, I wouldn’t do it any other way.
One more thought: funny how personal a book review /rating really is, depending on the moment in the reader’s life 🙂
Thank you for the kind words! Much appreciated.
And yes, so much of our connection to our reading is all mixed up with other stuff going on in our lives at the time. Just had this conversation with my just-turned-19 son. I mentioned that I’d discovered D.L. Sayers when I was pregnant with him, and compulsively searched out out and read every single one of her mystery books and story collections, to keep me amused in those last weeks of tedious waiting. Then I read them all over again while serving my “brand new mother” apprenticeship. I have a strong affection for D.L. Sayers to this day, influenced, I am quite sure, by my happy associations with reading her for the first time. (I did NOT name my son Peter, though!) 😉
The Tall Stranger is light in many ways, but there are so many bits that hit home and ring true. The nervousness over the questionable mother, and how safe the child might be with her. The flutter on a horse, the tea leaf reading, the compulsive liar who doesn’t understand what all the fuss is about, the deadly fog, the consequence of the half-learned ju-jitsu lessons. It certainly bears rereading
And you’re right. It’s perfect comfort reading.
Susan, you’re right. There is a lot going on in this book. I didn’t touch on a most of it, but I certainly appreciated it while reading. I think it’s one of DES’s “best so far”.
I am certainly becoming very taken with her, the more I read! The books certainly fill a certain niche in my reading desires, balancing out some of the deeper, darker, more complicated stuff I also greatly enjoy.
I really liked Henry, especially the bit at the end where he casually declares that if Barbie wants to keep up her career after marriage it’s just fine with him; it felt very genuine, and was quite an enlightened attitude for a hero of the time! 😉
Adding my sympathy for your pet emergency – I have a 15-year-old cat myself who has been to the emergency vet, at great expense. I’m glad that she is going better, and that you had this book for the perfect distraction!
Thank you for the sympathy! It was completely out of the blue, and though we did have a ryshed family discussion on the financial feasibility of going ahead with the surgery (versus having her euthanized) sentiment won out. She’s been such a good dog and a wonderful companion for so many years. The vets joked that she owes us another 5 years at least. Well, not very likely, but she’s not quite ready to check out just yet. She’s a border collie x old english sheepdog cross, so extra points for hybrid vigour, we’re thinking! 🙂 We also have a 13 year old cat (her brother passed on last year – natural causes- at 12), plus just lost another cat at 18 (again, natural causes ie. old age) plus we have two geriatric horses – 26 and 28. This is the awful part of animal ownership, watching them go into their inevitable decline, and dealing with the decisions involved. 😦 But so happy to have them in our lives, so, again, it’s a balance. My parents refused to have pets for this very reason; I always thought they missed out on so much love and joy because of it.
The Tall Stranger also has one of the few bloopers I’ve found in Stevenson’s work. In Five Windows (where she also appears toward the end) Barbie comes from a home near Loch Lomand, whereas here in TTS she grew up near Aunt Amalie in England.
But this doesn’t make me love it any the less. I’ve used it for comfort reading too!
Sorry, Loch Lomond!
And with Aunt Amalie, not “near” her. I think it’s time to leave the computer.
🙂 Don’t worry – you’re making complete sense! (And doesn’t it give one pause when the author forgets his/her own back story in a subsequent novel?!)