7.30.2010

Loving by Henry Green

Last month, when I was perusing the stacks for an easily readable Modern Library Top-100 book, I found the delightful Muriel Sparks and enjoyed that escape tremendously.  See here for why I was undertaking such a search.  While there, I also picked up another Modern Library Top-100: Henry Green's Loving, which I finished on the plane the other day.  Given that I was reading it with less -than-stellar attention (riding the shuttle to the airport, half-listening for boarding announcements, looking out the window at the clouds), I didn't have an immediate reaction to finishing it.  It just felt like an item marked off the to-do list.  And though I do love marking items off to-do lists, I have been plagued by a nagging feeling that I have been missing something here.  Green is considered a wunderkind - a "writer's writer's writer" - and has been classed among Virginia Woolf and James Joyce for his experimental style and remarkable technique.  And though I would agree that the dialogue-heavy writing is something to be admired, I did not finish this book feeling like it warranted such a classification.

Loving is set in a castle in Ireland during the early days of World War II.  The castle is owned by a British woman and is staffed almost exclusively by British servants.  Though we are introduced to Mrs. Tennant and a few other upper-class characters, the focus of the novel is on the life "below stairs."  Green's exploration of class distinctions is light, and he relies beautifully on comic moments to keep the book from becoming some sort of polemic.  But the tension dwelling on the boundaries between these two groups does provide the reader with something to consider.  And even within the lower class, the distinctions based on status and position make clear how difficult social mobility was at this time in these circles. 

The plot basically follows Charley Raunce, who was a footman until the death of the butler allows him the opportunity for advancement.  Charley (previously known as Arthur because all Mrs. T's footmen have been Arthur) seizes the opportunity and makes himself over into Mr. Raunce, THE man among men in the servant's quarters.  We then track his efforts to woo one of the housemaids, Edith, and his difficulties and successes in managing the household, the other servants, and his personal affairs.  There is adultery, theft, drunkenness, flirtation, and - oh yes - peacocks.  It really is quite fascinating.

So, here I sit, two days past finishing it, already gushing over my next read (I can't wait to talk about this one!), and I still cannot get settled how I feel about this book and its inclusion as one of the Top-100 English-language books of the 20th century.  I cannot feel it is a masterpiece, but I equally cannot dismiss it as overrated and unworthy of praise.

In trying to gain a little more insight into Mr. Green and his work, I stumbled across this: The Paris Review's interview with Green in 1958.  This one is not collected in my 4-volume set, so it won't officially count in my upcoming TPR challenge (invitation post coming - really, I promise!).  But it stands as another great teaser for that event and offers us this gem of an exchange:

INTERVIEWER
I’ve heard it remarked that your work is “too sophisticated” for American readers, in that it offers no scenes of violence—and “too subtle,” in that its message is somewhat veiled. What do you say?


GREEN
Unlike the wilds of Texas, there is very little violence over here.  A bit of child killing, of course, but no straight shootin’. After fifty, one ceases to digest; as someone once said: “I just ferment my food now.” Most of us walk crabwise to meals and everything else. The oblique approach in middle age is the safest thing. The unusual at this period is to get anywhere at all—Goddamn!


INTERVIEWER
And how about “subtle”?


GREEN
I don’t follow. Suttee, as I understand it, is the suicide—now forbidden—of a Hindu wife on her husband’s flaming pyre. I don’t want my wife to do that when my time comes—and with great respect, as I know her, she won’t . . .


INTERVIEWER
I’m sorry, you misheard me; I said, “subtle”—that the message was too subtle.


GREEN
Oh, subtle. How dull!

Brilliant!

5 comments:

  1. Every now and again, I enjoy more of a quiet novel, something that most would think didn't have a lot of intense events to be interesting. But, that's every now and again, and I have to be careful to pick those up when I'm in those "moods." Otherwise, I can't stand it, and I can't stand that feeling of "eh" whilst shrugging my shoulders when I'm asked how I feel about a book. That, I think, is a tragedy in writing, no?

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  2. Haha, suttee/subtle! Too funny.

    Despite your mixed feelings on this one, I'm quite intrigued - the setting and balanced comedic/serious approach, as well as the, uh, subtlety of approach, very much appeal. Onto the eventual TBR list it goes!

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  3. Funny how these go-to lists can let us down sometimes, but all the same, this does sound interesting. Not as interesting as another Muriel Spark novel (my new love), but interesting all the same. You have me intrigued with this hint of TPR project. Can't wait to see what you have in mind!

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  4. CaaBC - To be clear, this isn't really a quiet book. There's plenty going on, but I do completely fight against that unsettled feeling at the close of a book. Somehow, better to hate it than to be indifferent, I think.

    Emily - Yes! The interview actually increased my opinion of Green tenfold. I'll probably try to get to Living and Party Going at some point in the future to see how I respond to those. Not in the near future, but out there in the amorphous uncertain future of TBRs.

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  5. Frances - The TPR project! I must go get my thoughts finalized on that, so I can post something maybe tomorrow. It has me intrigued as well. ;)

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