Summer’s Day by Mary Bell ~ 1951. This edition: Greyladies Press, 2008. Softcover. ISBN: 978-0-9559413-2-0. 281 pages.
My rating: 10/10
Craftsmanship of any sort is an admirable thing, and one of life’s greatest joys is coming unexpectedly upon an example of mastery in execution, no matter what the field.
Finding craftmanship in writing is perhaps rarer than one would hope, what with the amount of people practising the trade. A book can easily make it to the bestseller lists without this elusive element – I won’t be giving examples, leaving it to you, dear fellow reader, to nod in recognition of this rather cheeky assertion – and how ironic it is (I often think) that some of the most creatively or just downright cleanly styled books are to be found languishing all unapplauded in the out-of-print stacks.
A case in point is this minor novel in a minor key, brought to my attention by Scott of the always-dangerous-to-browse Furrowed Middlebrow (“Off the beaten page: lesser-known British women writers 1910-1960”). After reading his post regarding this book back in 2013, and the follow-up post regarding his search for the identity of the writer some months later, I decided that this was something I needed to investigate for myself.
Summer’s Day proved not that easy to access, for though it had been re-published in 2008 by Greyladies Press, it was no longer on the available list, having been sold out of its print run. (Which makes me wonder just how many copies a typical print run might be for this sort of thing. I’m guessing not particularly high, but it would lovely if I’m wrong, and if there were thousands of these second-life titles being snapped up by discerning readers like myself. But I suspect the number is in the hundreds, or even less. Ah, well, we do what we can to spread the word.)
I did find a used copy on ABE, and it arrived promptly, and I just as promptly dove into it, but sadly the timing of my reading was all wrong, as I took the book along to enhance and occupy my time in a surgical waiting room (not for any operation of my own, but for one of my family members) and, needless to say, I was not as focussed as I should have been, for the story did not take, and I set it aside to tackle in future.
Future having arrived, and an opportunity for quiet, mindful reading along with it (thanks to the sudden onset of bitterly cold weather and the temporary sidelining of a major outdoor project), I’ve now read the book.
Scott is right. It’s a gorgeous example of its sort of thing.
In an English girls’ boarding school, shortly after the end of World War II, on the first day of summer term, a variety of characters are assembling. We see them at first in delicately sketched vignettes, and as the novel progresses and the camera pans out, as it were, we discover the inter-connectedness of each to the others, and with each succeeding page our interest grows, as we become acquainted with what is going on inside each of the character’s heads, and how the others in their circle react to their words and actions, and what makes them all tick.
The plot is episodic and not terribly dramatic: a number of schoolgirls deal with the everyday issues of communal life and occasionally wonder what their future will bring; a number of schoolmistresses (and one schoolmaster) ponder the same – both for themselves and their charges; a number of supporting characters (the school gardener, the housekeeper, members of the auxiliary staff, assorted parents, a potential lover or two) weigh in with their own thoughts on the girls they are attached to or otherwise interact with.
The appeal of Summer’s Day is not in what actually happens in the course of the narrative, but in the picture it creates of this common-yet-arcane micrososmos. The author has her characters well in hand, and she parades them across her stage with competence and delicious humour and deeply relatable poignancy.
For such a short book, less than 300 pages, there are an unusually high number of fully formed characters created who take shape and live in the reader’s mind, though none of them are likely to trouble us much, with the exception of two who are bereaved of their beloved, and whose grief follows us after the book is closed. I found myself genuinely anxious on their behalf, and had to give mself a litle mental shake – “It’s fiction, you silly – these people aren’t real!”
But they could be, and that’s a sincere compliment to the writer’s art.
More detailed reviews are presented here (same Furrowed Middlebrow link as earlier on) and here (from Lyn, of I Prefer Reading) complete with a number of quotations. I am perhaps not quite as enamoured as Scott was – though everything he says I concur with – and I nodded happily throughout Lyn’s review, for in it she says everything I’d like to, saving me the trouble of a recap.
Both are correct in that you really do need to concentrate on this one – it rewards a close examination, and is perhaps not the type of thing to take up if one is in the midst of any sort of emotional turmoil in one’s real life. But once you enter in, so much to appreciate.
And – as I do believe I’ve mentioned once or twice – with a lovely vein of ironic humour. Good stuff. Thumbs up to Mary Bell, whoever the heck she was, and boo hiss that this was (apparently) her only foray into writing.
“Who’s that chap?” asked a small girl’s father as Mr. Walker went by, liking the look of him. “I don’t remember -”
“Oh, that’s Fishy Walker,” his daughter informed him. “He’s not anybody’s father. As far as I know,” she added with intent – a failure – to shock.
“Fish?”
“Yes. The drawing master.”
“And what do you draw?”
“Fish,” she explained patiently. “Do watch the bowling, dear.”
He did so, taking furtive glances at his daughter during runs. Did they really draw fish? he wondered. It seemed an odd reason for him to be scrounging for those fees. Perhaps it was a prelude to one of those modern careers, like girls looking after animals in the zoo, and he had a vision of himself creeping through the dim shades of some future aquarium to an assignation with his daughter among the octopuses.
Leaves & Pages 
This sounds like a book I’d enjoy — like an occasional toasted cheese sandwich by the fire (i.e., not as regular fare but as a treat, a reminder of simpler meals, quiet books…). Though I did laugh out loud when I read this: “Perhaps it was a prelude to one of those modern careers, like girls looking after animals in the zoo, and he had a vision of himself creeping through the dim shades of some future aquarium to an assignation with his daughter among the octopuses.”
It’s a grand little treat of a book – even after reading the positive reviews I was surprised (and pleased) with how much I ended up enjoying it, as my first attempt was something of a failure. Not the book’s fault, just poor timing. It is full of glorious little asides like the quote I included, for the author obviously had a decidedly wry sense of humour. Just a minor book, not a masterpiece or a life changer, but an excellent specimen of its type.
Love the sound of this. I want to go Internet hunting now but am not buying books.
Umm OK I searched I bought, eBay!
Oh golly! I sure hope you enjoy it. I think you will, it’s very appealing and very well written. Nice snapshot of recently post-war England, too.
I actually just ordered a copy of this this week! After hearing good things about it from so many wise bloggers – and being such a devotee of Greyladies – I’m eager to read it for myself.
Wonderful. I’m sure you will be pleased. 🙂
My fingers are itching to get on ABE, but I’ve just been buying books for Jane’s Margery Sharp reading party. (I already have Harlequin House thanks to you.)
So thrilled with your pursuance of Margery Sharp. I rather envy you discovering her books for the first time – nothing like that first joyous read! Which one(s) were you thinking of reviewing for the January event? (And the Mary Bell book is excellent, in its own way, but I suspect you may get more “mileage” out of Margery – she is truly unique.)
I was lucky enough to find affordable copies of Britannia Mews & Lisa Lillywhite on-line, so I’ll be spoiled for choice, with Harlequin House. I also have The Sun in Scorpio, which I actually found on a shelf here with Cluny Brown. I’ve read the first few pages a couple of times but it hasn’t taken.
The novels you mention are all so very different from each other! If I were to rank them in order of personal preference I think it might look something like this:
Britannia Mews – A proper old-fashioned saga-story, almost Dickensian in fact. Possibly the best “reading value” of all of these? Lots in there, very dramatic, which is of course why it was snapped up to dramatize and film.
Cluny Brown – Fantastic heroine – loved every word of her adventures. Something of a romp, nothing too serious going on here, except of course the war rumbling away in the not-so-distant background. Well, no, on second thoughts, I think there is actually quite a lot going on regarding self-determination and human rights and the concept of equality. Rather subversive in the very best way.
The Sun in Scorpio – Creative styling throughout. Do try a re-read at some future date – the story does get quite engaging once the family hits England. I ended up thinking very highly of this book. It takes some interesting twists as it goes along. Slightly melancholy throughout.
Lise Lillywhite – A study not so much of the title character as of the man who watches her.
Harlequin House – Quite a few elements of farce, but so very well written and occasionally truly poignant. Possibly the “weakest” of this assembly?
Edited to say that I have no idea how all the italics got in here. Tried fixing, made it worse, so there it is!
Lise not Lisa of course, but a natural auto-correct for my phone.
I put on my publishing hat and guess that they publish fewer than 500 copies of each of their books. I think 300 is likelier, but honestly I am surprised they wouldn’t do them as print on demand, which extends the book’s life without costing the publisher a whole lot more. But perhaps it is all different in ?England? Or wherever Grey Ladies is located.
Print on demand, when done right, is the way to go for these sorts of things, perhaps in conjunction with modest print runs to get the books into shops. There seem to be a large number of Greyladies reissues which are out-of-print, with no word on another run. So if they did indeed sell out, wouldn’t that argue a demand? But I’m sure the overhead must be stiff – wouldn’t want too much inventory. I have purchased POD from Dodo, and in general am happy with them, but they are laid out a bit oddly, large spaces for paragraph breaks/no indents, and it is rather obvious from their list that they are taking advantage of Project Gutenberg’s work. What we need is someone taking on the more recent OOPs, 1940s onward, say. Well, I guess there is Persephone. Nice selection there. Just want more! (And at a manageable price point. Persephones to Canada run at about $34 each right now – a tiny bit rich for a softcover, though they are beautifully produced.)
I don’t see an option to reply to your reply, so this will look like a new message. I’ve read Cluny Brown, and I enjoyed it up to the ending. I don’t believe it’s a happy ending for Cluny, though I know the author says it is.
Your review really sold me on Harlequin House, but now I’m thinking that I might go with Britannia Mews. And I’ll definitely give The Sun in Scorpio another try one day.
Cluny Brown – it’s an ambiguous ending, isn’t it? I choose to believe that all will go well for Cluny in her future – even if the marriage is difficult I trust that she will be able to make of it something positive – she’s a survivor.
Regarding which book to choose – read them all! (Okay, not helpful.) Britannia Mews was quite a popular success, so that speaks to its appeal. HH is a mite more obscure, and a lighter sort of novel all around. BM is longer and rather more serious, in a good way.
I do not like Cluny Brown–Nicola Beauman and me are the only ones?(head of Persphone Books)
Well, if one steps back a bit, Cluny is rather annoying. But I am usually in the mood to embrace anything Margery Sharp puts any time into, so I fell for this one. Though I must say I didn’t love a few of the novels. In Pious Memory is perhaps my least favourite, along with The Faithful Servants.
Yup, ordered it. Reading your blog is fatal to budget! Just bought and blogged on Babbacombes by Scarlett/Streatfeild. You get a shoutout.
I’m saving Babbacombes for my Christmas Day read – my family has informed me that I might not be receiving any books from them, so to go ahead and treat myself. As if I need permission! 😉 Though it’s nice to have permission to book shop. It sounds the perfect fluffy sort of thing for that purpose. And I was just over playing catch-up on CIB, and I was so happy to see mention of The Dean’s Watch in a recent post. Guess what I have on my bedside table for my next read?! Great minds, etcetera. I do hope you enjoy Summer’s Day. I think you will. 🙂
I’m going to go on a search for this novel; I do like quiet books set in girls boarding schools. And some perhaps not so quiet ones…but this seems like just what I am in the mood for these days.