It’s re-issue day at last for Margery Sharp, thanks to Open Road Media and some dedicated bloggers who have been raising flags for her for at least a couple of years.
Followers of this blog and most of us new Margery readers know that Jane who blogs from beyondedenrock has done sterling work in helping Margery to reach a new generation of readers. You will find, if you explore that there are reviews to more Margerys, not to mention reviews of various Margery books, from readers around the blogosphere who engaged, this year and last, in Jane’s hosted Margery Sharp day
Go explore Margery – she is a light-touch, light-hearted writer, who writes books which are hugely entertaining, witty, and well-turned in writing craft. Margery can indeed write sharply and incisively; you get the sense she feels warmly towards humanity, but is not at all saccharine.
They feature two delightfully individual and quirky central characters, and I’m delighted to have met and made friends with Cluny and Julia
When Jane started her championship of Margery on her blog, she was only available, if you were very lucky, as a charity shop find, rumpled and elderly, but at reasonable cost. And, as time went by, and more of us were introduced to the wonderful Margery Sharp, the dwindling copies of Margeriana began to reach eye-watering prices via market-place sellers. I could only find a battered Cluny and a battered Julia-Nutmeg, at reasonable outlay.
Until now – so have a look at the other titles Open Road Media have released. I trust some of them will make their way on here in due course!
Julia ,’by marriage Mrs Packett, by courtesy Mrs Macdermot’ is the central character of three strongly delineated women, in Margery Sharp’s delightful The Nutmeg Tree.
Sharp, a deliciously witty writer of rather eccentric English romances and childrens’ books, from the 1930s to the 1970s, had sadly gone out of print, and was only available as lucky finds in second hand shops or sometimes on line at some eye-watering prices.
Fortunately, Open Road Integrated Media who have a wonderful reputation for reissuing ‘minor’ classics in good, digital format, have now reissued a generous couple of handfuls of her titles.
And this is one of them, and I was delighted to be offered The Nutmeg Tree by Open Road, as a copy for review
Julia is a middle-aged actress, member of the chorus, and any kind of vaguely theatre related work she can get. She is a woman of impeccably loose morals. Promiscuous in part because she has a generous heart (and even more generous bosoms), she cannot bear to disappoint or embarrass a suitor. Not to mention the fact that she is hopeless with money, will squander what she has on a good time and good friends, and, when treading the boards work is slender, a man might take her out for a meal. She is not averse to undertaking the odd swindle, to part a fool from his money, either
It is Sharp’s particular genius, her wit and her warmth, to take this seemingly unprincipled woman, and make us root for her, delight in her, and understand exactly why so many who meet her, both men and women, happily fall under the spell of her charms. Despite her dishonesty, she is remarkably honest with herself about her failings, and really dislikes hurting or offending those whom she fleeces.
The opening paragraph of the book immediately showed me this was going to be a sparkling and good humoured read:
Julia, by marriage Mrs, Packett, by courtesy Mrs Macdermot, lay in her bath singing the Marseillaise. Her fine robust contralto, however, was less resonant than usual, for on this particular summer morning the bathroom, in addition to the ordinary fittings, contained a lacquer coffee table, seven hatboxes, half a dinner service, a small grandfather clock, all Julia’s clothes, a single bed mattress, thirty-five novelettes, three suitcases, and a copy of a Landseer stag
I was already laughing so hard by this point, with the tune of ‘On the twelfth day of Christmas’, rather than the Marseillaise, playing in my mind, that I half expected the sentence to end with the proverbial partridge, pear tree and all.
Julia, on her uppers again is the mother of a grown-up and extremely intelligent daughter, presently at Girton. She was never the most motherly of women, and Susanne, or Susan as she is now called, has been brought up by Julia’s mother-in-law, a well-to-do woman whom Julia admires, and who has always treated Julia kindly. Even if she does nurture a rather peculiar fantasy that her daughter–in-law would make a great success if she would only open a cake-shop in Knightsbridge.
Julia hasn’t seen her daughter for years, but Sue wants to get married to a man, whilst her grandmother wants her to wait till she is twenty one. Susan sends a letter to her mother asking her to come to France (where she and her grandmother are holidaying) to help persuade Mrs Packett senior to accept Sue’s beau, Bryan, and a speedy marriage.
Dormant mother love is wakened, and the story follows Julia’s eventful journey to France, and the amusing encounters which await her there
In a neat twist, it is Julia, and even the older Mrs Packett, who are the flexible and adventurous ones, whilst Susan, bar a desire to marry a little young is implacably rigid and insufferably worthy
Susan was a prig. Not an objectionable prig, not a proselytising prig, but a prig from very excess of good qualities.. Like all the right-minded young, she wanted perfection; the difficulty was that her standards of perfection were unusually high. Exquisite in her own integrity, she demanded an equal delicacy and uprightness from her fellows
Susan – unlike Julia – is not a lot of fun, Take, for example, this typical throwaway Margery Sharp gem, about Julia’s pecuniary embarrassment and the detail of her underwear :
Julia decided to take single instead of return tickets, and to buy a new dinner dress with the money saved. She also purchased a linen suit, a Matron’s model hat, and three pairs of cami-knickers. She had indeed plenty of these already, but all with policemen embroidered on the legs
I shan’t (of course) reveal spoilers, but do just need to say that I thought the ending was utterly brilliant, and done with panache.
A film version, or should I say an extreme ‘based on’ was made, starring Greer Garson. Whatever the merits of the film, most of the elements of Sharp’s novel have been bent into unrecognisable shape. The title of the film was Julia Misbehaves
I enjoyed this book enormously; though Sharp is writing light, witty romance, it is in a unique and wonderfully executed manner. Her characterisations are brilliant, her humour never laboured and, knowing more Margery’s are waiting for me, accessible, and reasonably priced is enchanting.
Thank you Open Road! And thank you to Jane at beyondedenrock, who probably woke us all up to Margery
The Nutmeg Tree, and other Margery titles are being published on April 12th. Not long to wait!
Frivolous, charming, frothy perfection, but, nonetheless, with crunch and bite.
I came to Margery Sharp, a writer who was deservedly popular as a fine writer of children’s books and books for adults, from the interwar years, through Jane, of Beyond Eden Rock, a blogger who has been championing her writing, most of which is now out of print. A couple of her books had made her more widely known when they were filmed, The Nutmeg Tree, (by all accounts a disastrous adaptation) and this one, Cluny Brown. Having had a quick look at clips on YouTube, I was not minded to include them. The film is very much ‘based on’ which means, of course, liberties. taken
Back to the book: As Jane runs an annual ‘celebrate Margery Sharp day’ (the author’s birthday), I thought I would try and see what all the fuss is about, track down a Sharp book, and roll up with my Happy Birthday, Margery, review
And I am so very glad I tracked down a modestly priced old copy of Cluny Brown. Some of Sharp’s books are now so rare that they are offered for four figure sums! I can only say that I hope Sharp’s dedicated champions can persuade a publishing house to re-issue her books, so more of us have a chance to read more of them. She is a delightful, nicely sharp, well-crafted, light-touch writer of wit. I have seen her described as a kind of ‘early chick-lit’ All I can say is there is an irony, a kind of delicate and barbed mockery of the class system, that is a million miles away from the (admittedly few) chick-lit books I have read.
Published in 1944, but set a good 6 years earlier, when the idea of war was beginning to rumble away in people’s minds, but war had not been declared, this must have been some kind of much-needed temporary escape from the darkness of the world at war.
Clover (Cluny) Brown is a young, working class woman, only just out of her teens. She is an orphan, presently living with her Uncle, Mr Porritt, a plumber. Cluny is Porritt’s secretary/clerk/message taker. She is, everyone around her insists, remarkably plain. ‘Plain As A Boot’ And very tall. Except, she is really what the French call ‘Jolie Laide’ and certainly her vitality, intelligence and forthrightness are much more alluring and attractive than might be imagined at first glance. One of the major problems with Cluny, at least from the perspective of the more conventionally minded in her world, is that she just doesn’t seem to ‘know her place’. She acts unconventionally, out of class and out of gender – taking herself for tea at the Ritz, having far too much confidence and lack of becoming deference, so that those far above her in class occasionally think she is one of them, making friends with a colonel who doesn’t realise she is only ‘a tall parlourmaid’ The despairing cry from all around is ‘Cluny Brown – Who Does She Think She Is?’ The answer is, alive, enchanting, exhilarating. Following an event where she decides to pick up one of her Uncle’s plumbing jobs, and discovers the attractions of a dry martini, her Uncle decides the safest thing is to make sure she fits in to her proper and expected station in life. And goes into service. She becomes The Tall Parlourmaid for an Aristocratic Devonshire Family. A Golden Retriever (Wiki, Commons) happily advances the plot. NOTE for readers of a sensitive disposition the author does not cause any harm to come to her fictional animals in the course of this book
Margery Sharp assembles a cast of strong and quirky characters, all of whom might seem to be examples of ‘types’ – the stunningly beautiful vamp, the scion of the aristocratic house who espouses radical socialist ideas, a louche Polish literary hero, the lady of the manor, all gardening and good works – but Sharp renders them all much more interesting, much more contradictory, and, all of them, much more likeable. Her pen is sharp, but it is also fizzy, joyous, expansive. There is no spitefulness, no meanness of spirit in her writing.
What I most appreciated is that Cluny gets the journey the reader wants her to have – the journey she deserves. There is, I’m sure, a destination which we might discover we are fearing. Perhaps another author would have given her a different outcome. I’m so pleased that Sharp is not a punitive author. Neither is she saccharine, but she views humanity with warmth, I feel.
I definitely want to read more of the wise, warm, witty Ms Sharp. Lacking the funds for four figure sums of stray existing copies, I shall be hoping for treasures in charity shops. Or, perhaps some kind and techy savvy soul could get the oeuvre a Kindled
If you want to know more about Margery Sharp, visit Jane’s blog or this blog, which is 100% Margery
It’s re-issue day at last for Margery Sharp, thanks to Open Road Media and some dedicated bloggers who have been raising flags for her for at least a couple of years.
Cluny Brown and The Nutmeg Tree have both been reviewed on here, so you can follow the links.
Julia ,’
And I am so very glad I tracked down a modestly priced old copy of Cluny Brown. Some of Sharp’s books are now so rare that they are offered for four figure sums! I can only say that I hope Sharp’s dedicated champions can persuade a publishing house to re-issue her books, so more of us have a chance to read more of them. She is a delightful, nicely sharp, well-crafted, light-touch writer of wit. I have seen her described as a kind of ‘early chick-lit’ All I can say is there is an irony, a kind of delicate and barbed mockery of the class system, that is a million miles away from the (admittedly few) chick-lit books I have read.
