{review} dumps: a plain girl

L. T. Meade Dumps: A Plain Girl (1905)

source; source

I am going to tell the story of my life as far as I can; but before I begin I must say that I do wonder why girls, as a rule, have a harder time of it than boys, and why they learn quite early in life to be patient and to give up their own will.

I'm not sure this is a review; more of an extended laugh at one of the best book titles I've encountered for ages. I mean, REALLY, "Dumps: A Plain Girl"? One almost doesn't need to read the book - surely it is quite plain (ho ho) what happens in this one.

...but he said the true name for me ought not to be Rachel, but Dumps, and how could any girl expect to rule over either boys or girls with such a name as Dumps? I suppose I was a little stodgy in my build, but father said I might grow out of that, for my mother was tall.

This is my second read of an L. T. Meade book: I started with A Sweet Girl Graduate, because I am interested in the history of women's colleges (having attended one), and I was hooked on Meade's blend of sickly sentimentality and sober evangelism for educating girls. I chose Dumps because of the title, though I was tossing up about Polly: A New Fashioned Girl. Happily there are plenty of Meade titles out there to keep me going forever (she wrote over 300 books).

So, poor little Dumps. Yes, Dumps is a plain girl. And she lives a rather plain life with her widowed father, who is a genius, but quite poor --

He was also somewhat of a saving turn of mind, and he told me once that he was putting by money in order to help the boys to go to one of the ’varsities by-and-by. He was determined that they should be scholars and gentlemen; and of course I thought this a very praiseworthy ambition of his, and offered to do without a new summer dress. He did not even thank me; he said that he thought I could do quite well with my present clothes for some time to come, and after that I felt my sacrifice had fallen somewhat flat.

-- and her brothers and a faithful but slovenly servant.

Dumps' life is a lonely one:

"And a girl's little brain is meant to keep a house comfortable."

"But, father, I haven't such a little brain; and I think I could do something else."

"Could what?" said father, opening his eyes with horror. "What in the world is more necessary for a girl who is one day to be a woman than to know how to keep a house comfortable?"

"Yes, yes," I said; "I suppose so." I was very easily stopped when father spoke in that high key.

Given Meade's support of feminist causes, I was hopeful that he would be struck by lightning at this point, but no such luck.

I really was a very stranded sort of girl. Hitherto I had had no outlets of any sort; I was just Dumps, a squat, rather plain girl, who knew little or nothing of the world—a neglected sort of girl, I have no doubt; but then I had no mother.

And then... one day a mysterious lady comes to visit, then invites Dumps to stay with her for a holiday, and easily wins the poor girl over with nice clothes and plenty of food and gentle kindnesses. But what lies behind this kindly lady's unexpected generosity? I'm not going to tell you any more, but Dumps has her world-view considerably widened and learns some important lessons about life and herself. Also, we are happy to learn, getting enough to eat really helps with her looks.

And I don't think I can end without mentioning Dumps' first friend, the blue-stocking Augusta:

"Do let us walk about," I said, “and let us be chums, if you don’t mind."
"Chums?" said Augusta, turning her dreamy, wonderful eyes upon my face.
"Yes," I said.
"But chums have tastes in common," was her next remark.
"Well, you are very fond of books, are you not?" I said.
"Fond of books!" cried Augusta. "Fond of books! I love them. But that is not the right word: I reverence them; I have a passion for them." She looked hurriedly round her. "I shall never marry," she continued in a low whisper, "but I shall surround myself with books - the books of the great departed; their words, their thoughts, shall fill my brain and my heart. I shall be satisfied; nothing else will satisfy me but books, books, books!"

So, not great literature by any means, but an entertaining, often sad, rather sentimental bit of fiction. Dumps was a bit whingy (though she certainly had grounds for that!), and I didn't think it was as satisfying as A Sweet Girl Graduate - where there is also a lot of rather melodramatic and silly action but the theme of the importance of educating girls is never lost. 

Incidentally, Jane at fleur in her world has also recently reviewed another Meade title, A World of Girls. I have also been following a couple of blogs which constantly offer new lost wonders to explore, and I'd single out redeeming qualities and leaves and pages - there are so many great free e-treasures out there that I many never need to buy a book again. 

{review} too many cousins?

Louisa May Alcott Eight Cousins, or The Aunt-Hill (1875)

Louisa May Alcott Rose in Bloom (1876)

(I downloaded both of these for free from girlebooks)

"Well, now, there is one very excellent, necessary, and womanly accomplishment that no girl should be without, for it is a help to rich and poor, and the comfort of families depends upon it. This fine talent is neglected nowadays, and considered old-fashioned, which is a sad mistake, and one that I don't mean to make in bringing up my girl. It should be a part of every girl's education, and I know of a most accomplished lady who will teach you in the best and pleasantest manner."
"Oh, what is it?" cried Rose eagerly, charmed to be met in this helpful and cordial way.
"Housekeeping!" answered Dr. Alec.
"Is that an accomplishment?" asked Rose, while her face fell, for she had indulged in all sorts of vague, delightful dreams.
"Yes; it is one of the most beautiful as well as useful of all the arts a woman can learn. Not so romantic, perhaps, as singing, painting, writing, or teaching, even; but one that makes many happy and comfortable, and home the sweetest place in the world. Yes, you may open your big eyes; but it is a fact that I had rather see you a good housekeeper than the greatest belle in the city. It need not interfere with any talent you may possess, but it is a necessary part of your training, and I hope that you will set about it at once, now that you are well and strong."

In general, I do like old sentimental, morally improving young adult books with a touch of romance. I sometimes suspect that one gets more from them as an adult, too. Yet, for me, these two classics of nineteenth century American fiction did not jell. I felt, as I was reading, that I had passed too far beyond youthful innocence to believe in the characters' intensely black-and-white morality. The tactile relationship of Rose with her guardian and uncle Alec also seemed a little icky. Although I understand that different times have different customs - and also factor in the sentimentalization of children and infantilization of women - I started to get quite cross with myself for not being able to suspend judgement and for being so horribly cynical. It crossed a line for me - something which, of course, certainly says more about me than about Eight Cousins. 

Diving into one of the trunks that stood in a corner, he brought up, after a brisk rummage, a silken cushion, prettily embroidered, and a quaint cup of dark carved wood. "This will do for a start," he said, as he plumped up the cushion and dusted the cup. "It won't do to begin too energetically, or Rose will be frightened. I must beguile her gently and pleasantly along till I've won her confidence, and then she will be ready for anything."

Eight Cousins is the story of 13 year old orphan and heiress Rose Campbell, who comes to live with her guardian Uncle Alec (a doctor) in a town (Boston?) with - as the title (and subtitle The Aunt-Hill) suggests - a large number of aunts and cousins. Rose is a sickly specimen and Uncle Alec experiments on her with all his ideas of how young girls ought to be turned into healthy women. No tight undies, simple clothes, lots of running around, no coffee (she is to milk the cow for her morning milk), and definitely no racy French novels.   

"Upon my word, Rosy, I begin to feel like the man who bought an elephant, and then didn't know what to do with him. I thought I had got a pet and plaything for years to come; but here you are growing up like a bean-stalk, and I shall find I've got a strong-minded little woman on my hands before I can turn round. There's predicament for a man and an uncle!"

I finally found something to agree with, however:

"If you dear little girls would only learn what real beauty is, and not pinch and starve and bleach yourselves out so, you'd save an immense deal of time and money and pain. A happy soul in a healthy body makes the best sort of beauty for man or woman. Do you understand that, my dear?"

Rose gets into tiny bits of strife (I prefer L. M. Montgomery's Anne of Green Gables for properly excellent and amusing strife), all of which teach her to become a more giving (i.e. sacrificing) person (in the sick-room, for instance). She is "rather fond of telling instructive tales". The message of sacrifice (women's sacrifice) is blunt (the talented singer - and former kitchen-maid Phebe - will sacrifice her career for love).

But Uncle Alec lifted up the bent head and, looking into the eyes that met his frankly, though either held a tear, he said, with the energy that always made his words remembered: "My little girl, I would face a dozen storms far worse than this to keep your soul as stainless as snow, for it is the small temptations which undermine integrity unless we watch and pray and never think them too trivial to be resisted." Some people would consider Dr. Alec an overcareful man, but Rose felt that he was right, and when she said her prayers that night, added a meek petition to be kept from yielding to three of the small temptations which beset a rich, pretty, and romantic girl extravagance, coquetry, and novel reading.

Source

Rose in Bloom has a different feel from Eight Cousins. This may be because Eight Cousins was published serially, but also perhaps because it is more overtly romantic in tenor. Rose returns home after a few years abroad with Uncle Alec. She is now turning twenty-one and is a good catch for a young man in search of a fortune. Her uncle has put the kibosh on her studying medicine, as he "thought it wouldn't do to have so many M.D.'s in one family" (hmmm...). Again, the morality is spectacularly strait-laced (one naughty suitor is killed off for liking a drink or two) as we follow Rose as she tries to make herself into a philanthropist (learning she should not expect gratitude for "saving Magdalens and teaching convicts") and attempts to find a mate who embodies moral perfection, can write poetry, and looks like her uncle. (Consanguinity is not a problem...)

"Dear love! I will. But I have no fear, except that you will fly too high for me to follow, because I have no wings."
"You shall live the poetry, and I will write it, so my little gift will celebrate your greater one."
"No you shall have all the fame, and I'll be content to be known only as the poet's wife."
"And I'll be proud to own that my best inspiration comes from the beneficent life of a sweet and noble woman."
"Oh, [redacted]! We'll work together and try to make the world better by the music and the love we leave behind us when we go."

In sum... My criticism of the Rose books has been shallow, I know. I wish I'd read these as a teen. A lot of stuff would have passed happily over my head, and I suspect I would have retained the same fondness that I have for Anne of Green Gables. I don't remember feeling this uncomfortable about Little Women, although the sacrificial elements did annoy the hell out of me. 

Incidentally... I have no aunts, uncles or cousins. None.

If you liked this...  anything by L. M. Montgomery. (I adored The Blue Castle {REVIEW}). Also, while reading Rose in Bloom, I thought that I was sadly lacking any Thoreau street cred. Good Thoreau advice: "Read the best books first, or you may not have a chance to read them at all."

{review} the hunger games

Suzanne Collins The Hunger Games (2008)

Hit dystopian roman - and now film - du jour, The Hunger Games left me rather cold. It seemed so derivative from other stories. Also a lot of squirrels died. Can't like that. And I like a strong female protagonist, but you can keep the uncomfortable teen romance. A gift for present tense fans: it was indefatigably in the first person present tense. It wasn't a bad book; it just wasn't for me. I worry that this is a sign of grumpy old age. ;-)

This would be great though (more utopian than dystopian):

Instead of struggling with the knots in my wet hair, I merely place my hand on a box that sends a current through my scalp, untangling, parting and drying my hair almost instantly. It floats down around my shoulders in a glossy curtain. 

Rating: 3/5. Unusually, for me, I can resist the urge to finish the series.

If you liked this... it did make me go and watch Arnie in The Running Man (1987) again. Classic. I had no idea the work on which it was based was written by Stephen King (as Richard Bachman [1982]).

{review} the agency

Y. S. Lee The Agency: A Spy in the House (2009)

This is number one in a series about young women from the wrong side of the tracks who are taken in by a girls' school which is also a front for a detective agency. The heroine Mary Lang has been saved from the gallows, and turns her hand to working undercover in a merchant's home to sort out the mystery of smuggled goods and lost cargoes. She finds herself drawn into the affairs of the family and their milieu. Is anyone who they seem? 

This was an enjoyable read - lots of nice bits about Victorian London and the engineering works on the Thames. It is set during a very hot summer so there is plenty of scope for gross descriptions of the smells and sights as well as for capturing the unpleasantness of having to wear so many clothes! There's a gorgeous love interest, James Easton, whose hard warm body the heroine first encounters in a wardrobe - nice touch, so to speak. The love interest is handled very discretely, and sets up the next book in the series nicely. Basically this book was like a heterosexual Young Adult Sarah Waters. I assume that this is a YA book?

My favourite bit was the disclaimer on the copyright page: "All statements, activities, stunts, descriptions, information and material of any other kind contained herein are included for entertainment purposes only and should not be relied on for accuracy or replicated as they may result in injury."

This book suffers from a lack of proof-reading ('theives' e.g.). And on p.210 in my edition, something dire has happened to the division of speakers.

Rating: 7/10

I have now also read the second in the series, The Body at the Tower. I thought the period detail was wonderfully done but the narrative lacked both the liveliness and the stronger plot structure of A Spy in the House. Mary Quinn is sent undercover, dressed as a boy, to investigate a mysterious death at the building site of the Houses of Parliament (specifically at Stephen's Tower [Big Ben]). Rating: 6/10.

If you liked this... I kept thinking about Fingersmith.