The House that is Our Own by O. Douglas ~ 1940. This edition: Nelson, 1951. Hardcover. 314 pages.
My rating: 8.5/10
Absolutely charming!
And I’m adding a whole point for the glowing descriptions of the Canadian foray which rounds off the book. I’m all proud and patriotically glowing now, after reading about how wonderful my native country was in 1940 or thereabouts, in every aspect. The author is absolutely right – Canada is really big. And it is still stunningly beautiful, and the people are really nice. Hurray for us!
Those of us already under the quiet spell of O. Douglas’s story-telling charm will have no trouble in understanding the appeal of this gentle domestic tale. Those unfamiliar with her may be bemused a bit at what there is to get excited about, in which case I can only recommend that one dip into one to see for yourself, preferably something like The Proper Place, which will let you know if this sort of thing is for you.
Here we have the tale of two friends, Kitty and Isobel. Kitty is well into middle age, and has recently been widowed after several years of travelling abroad with her seriously ill husband, seeking treatment for his unspecified condition. Her furniture is in storage, and she has taken rooms in a London residential hotel, where she is befriended by a younger fellow resident, Isobel (all of twenty-nine, and financially independent due to a well-invested legacy), who has been living there for the past six years. Some months have gone by, and Kitty is starting to emerge from her deepest mourning, and she has started to yearn for a quiet place she can truly call her own, a place to rebuild her life along its new lines.
Encouraged by Isobel, Kitty leases an flat, and goes about getting herself all set up, with delightfully homely details.
“This,” said Kitty, “is going to be my book-room. I think the long bookcase will get in along that wall. The writing-table in the window. A sofa in front of the fire – it’s so nice to lie with books piled all around you – and an arm-chair, if I can get it in. My ‘Peter Scott’ above the mantelpiece. This is the room I’ll sit in most, and I want my wild geese beside me. I’ll get the electric man to put a light over it. We had that at Hampstead, and we used to sit in the gloaming, and look up at the lighted picture, and think we heard the geese honk-honk – ”
Peter Scott – ‘The Wash At Dawn’ – wild geese
Kitty settles contentedly into her new digs, hiring a live-in housekeeper, the widowed Mrs. Auchinvole, whom the two friends then hold up to gently snobbish ridicule from time to time – the most jarring note in the book, to me. Kitty feels she must continually snub “The Auchinvole”, as she calls her employee to Isobel, finding in her an inclination to over-familiarity and a “We’re both widows together” attitude of emotional kinship, which Kitty finds vaguely distasteful. A vignette of class-conscious attitudes of the times, perhaps, and yet another small clue as to the resulting dearth of women willing to enter “service” in just a few years time, post-WW II.
Isobel, inspired by her friend’s nest-building initiative, decides to look about for new surroundings too. In her case, the country appeals. Through Kitty’s connections in the Border area of Scotland, Isobel rents rooms in the Scottish village of Glenbucho, in the farmhouse of a sadly diminished estate, whose young laird has had to sell up most of is land, and who has since moved to Canada, leaving his family home sadly vacant. Though she hasn’t come away an her retreat intending to purchase a house, Isobel finds herself doing just that, and she becomes effortlessly absorbed into Glenbucho’s feudal society, in which she dons the mantle of “Lady of the Manor” with effortless ease and total acceptance by all and sundry.
Much discussion ensues about the arrangement of the rooms in her new home, and the hiring of a married couple (complete with adorably realistic small boy) to look after things; the descriptions of the inner workings of the new society Isobel finds herself in is a gently fascinating interlude. And when Isobel ends up making the acquaintance of the young laird himself, one Gideon Veitch, engineered by the author most ingeniously and involving a marvellously luxurious, all-expenses-paid trip to Canada (with another adorable small boy as the raison-d’être), things play out most predictably and heart-warmingly well.
A happily feel-good little story, saved from too-saccharine “niceness” by the frequent self-examinations of the heroines – they see their own flaws and mourn them, though sometimes they chose not to remedy such, which I like – so true! – and by the sourpuss and opinionated characters who pop up here and there, to add a dash of vinegar and spice to the narrative meal.
World War I is a constant backdrop to the story; many characters have had their lives turned on end by it, and are still in recovery mode; World War II is looming, and the “situation in Europe” is discussed throughout with sombre foreboding. Though the characters refuse to let themselves dwell on such negativity for any length of time, one can sense them steeling themselves for the bitter times to come; the author makes it very clear that the gentle people of her narrative have an inner core of toughness which will see them through trial and tribulation, though they spend these peaceful days concerned with societal trivialities and creature comforts, and “What’s for tea?”, and the colours of their drawing room walls.
I enjoyed this small novel a lot. So happy to have found it; our recent foray into the used book stores of that most “English” of Canadian cities, Victoria, B.C., resulted in four new-to-me O. Douglas titles to add to my “comfort reads” bedroom shelf. Next up, Pink Sugar. With Olivia and Eliza for Common waiting in the wings. Perhaps I will save those for winter reading, though it’s so tempting to just gobble them all up right now!
(A book-room with a sofa and an arm-chair in front of a fireplace – wouldn’t that be grand? That is the image I am clinging to with wistful longing after reading this cheerful tribute to the joys of making yourself a comfortable home!)
Leaves & Pages 
I don’t know O. Douglas but will be looking out for her now. I love the idea of a Canadian foray here! And yes, that bookroom does sound wonderfully cozy…
Think D.E. Stevenson but not quite so “silly” in plot. Definitely domestic dramas. Beautifully done, in a quiet and intelligent way. And yes, doesn’t that bookroom sound like the stuff of dreams…
I’ve been looking out for a copy of this but have yet to find one (clearly, I haven’t been making enough trips over to Victoria). It sounds wonderful. I really love O. Douglas and with added Canadian content, who could resist?
I’ve read all three of the other O. Douglas books you have waiting in the wings and can’t wait to hear what you think of them. I loved Olivia!
This is the first copy I’ve come across; I don’t think it is quite as common as some of the others. And yes, Victoria was a gold mine! I was very good, and limited myself to “just a few” – we had left our car at our B&B and were walking the day we hit the bookshops, and I promised my husband I would not get more books than would fit in his small rucksack. (And we were driving our tiny Spitfire, so space was a definite issue.) Luckily the Nelson Publishing O. Douglas titles are very small & compact! 😉
It does sound wonderful – I’ve only read Pink Sugar, and loved that, and have been looking for some of her work.
I’ve just finished Pink Sugar, and enjoyed it. But I do believe that there I place some of the other stories even higher. This one – The House that is Our Own – is good, and the Rutherfurd books – The Proper Place, The Day of Small Things – are even better. Her work is definitely out there; I’ve managed to collect most of these books fairly easily, as they have all gone through many printings. I’ve had to order most of them online, though this last trip to the city was unexpectedly rewarding – in two used book stores her titles were well-represented, and I cherry-picked them to take the ones I didn’t already have. Nice tight (though well-read) copies, most in dust-jackets. Obviously highly prized and well cared for by previous owners. 🙂 The thriving and busy (three floors of books) Russell Books in Victoria (BC) (http://www.russellbooks.com/) was one source; the other was Victoria’s Shepherd Books (http://shepherdbooks.ca/index.html), with a smaller but very choice inventory of intriguing titles – well chosen stock.
Well, I think it was very nice of me to leave them for you at Russell Books, just knowing you’d be there a week later and wanting them. :^). I looked at them all (5 or 6) and decided I could really afford only one, so I selected The House that is our Own, because of the Canadian connection mentioned in the flap blurb. Same edition as pictured above.
(But oh dear, Shepherd Books? I didn’t know! Next trip, in 2015.)
Yes, that was my full haul at Russell. Honeymoon in Purdah and the O. Douglas. (By the time I got on the plane for Toronto, though, I had three or four more books, including O. Douglas’s Jane’s Parlour, a gift from a Dessie friend in Sidney. Very heavy luggage, with the gifts for the grandsons too.)
I’m glad you gave them a good home.
Thank you so very much, Susan – it was nice of you to leave a few for me! 😉
Shepherd books is just a bit further along Fort Street; I think it is in the next block. Right beside the guitar store, which wooed my husband and gave him some happy browsing time while I went through the books. Shepherd’s is small, but has a rather choice selection of a bit of everything; the owner seems to know his stuff. Lots of contemporary fiction, and a decent section of antique/vintage, which is where I found the O. Douglas books. When I expressed an interest in the author the owner went into his storage area and found two more, one of which I bought as well: Taken By the Hand. I forgot about that one; it was tucked at the very bottom of the rucksack; just came to light the other day when I was putting things away.
I’m glad you found at least a few things to take home as souvenirs of your trip; I find that I vividly remember where I find special books, and who has given them to me, and that just thinking of the book brings back the circumstances in which it was first acquired/read.
And I think you will enjoy Jane’s Parlour; I did. 🙂
Now I’ll ramble on about the book itself….
Since O. Douglas was actually Anna Buchan, sister to John Buchan, aka Lord Tweedsmuir, Governor General of Canada 1935-1940, I was first struck by the dedication, “To you,J.B….I dedicate this story, which you are not here to read, of places you knew and loved.”
When I got home to Toronto, I checked Anna’s 1945 memoir, “Unforgettable, Unforgotten.” Sure enough, Anna visited her brother in Canada twice in the late 1930s and her travels very much coincide with Isobel’s.
I enjoyed this book a lot. I find many of her books (this one included) are thinnish on plot, but strong on characters, episodes and description. Especially of Things Domestic. We get the double delight of first Kitty’s household creation, and then Isobel’s. That Isobel met the former owner of the house was no surprise, but I was surprised (and pleased) by the final domestic arrangements. Of course, with the war looming, all bets would really be off in 2 years. Miss Douglas knew this, writing in 1940.
I also enjoyed how actual historical events were part of the goings-on. One of the characters describes her heartbreak of listening to the King’s abdication a few months ago; Isobel heads to Scotland to escape the Coronation festivities in London (May, 1937). (As a side note, I was also reading Emily Carr’s journals, Hundreds and Thousands, at the same time, and both those events are covered in that book as well.)
I actually thought originally that Isobel would meet and marry Peter Scott. I admit, I didn’t realise he was a real artist. Thanks for including that image, above. Now that I’ve looked him up, I see there’s lots to learn about him and his life.
This is one of my favourite O. Douglas books.
Yes, yes, yes, to all you’ve said. Things Domestic are key points of enjoyment in these novels; I find them inspiring in the same way as Elizabeth Goudge’s descriptions of rooms and homes and gardens are. Though generally I end up looking around with more than mild dissatisfaction at my own surroundings, and thinking I could do much better if I put a little bit more effort in! (Or if someone left me a tidy legacy, and if there was an ancient, furnished-with-antiques-and-interesting-associations house at my disposal!) 😉
Must read some Emily Carr soon; it’s been a while. Thank you for that nudge.
Aw, what a dear book it sounds like. I cannot get enough of descriptions of arranging rooms — I think because I have absolutely no native talent for arranging things but a very deep appreciation for the aesthetic of comfort. I’ll have to see if I can rustle up a copy of this.
It is a very dear book. The author continually celebrates the deep pleasures of domesticity, but in a very real way, with emphasis on true comfort and functionality as well as on more purely aesthetic things. My own perennial state is of living in a mild chaos of personal belongings (mostly too many books, as my family mentions frequently) but I read the likes O. Douglas and am comforted that somewhere in my life there is order and serenity, if only in the fictional worlds I visit! 😉
[…] House that is Our Own by O. Douglas. I felt compelled to read this after reading a review at Leaves and Pages. Plus, most of the Canadian literature I’ve read has been very good. […]