Somewhere in here is where I read The Enchanted April, by Elizabeth von Arnim. I had seen the movie, back when it came out and I was seeing lots of movies, in theaters and everything. I remember enjoying the movie, although I don’t really remember much about it other than the basic plot (two women in unhappy marriages rent a castle in Portofino for a month, taking two more women with them to split the rent, and the husbands come, and they are all revivified and redeemed and et cetera’d) and a terrific cast (Joan Plowright as the elderly widow who joins them, Miranda Richardson and Josie Lawrence, Jim Broadbent and Alfred Molina).
Later, I discovered a connection to—have you guessed?—Harold Nicolson. Yes, everything is connected to Harold Nicolson. As I understand it, the book was inspired by the time that Vita Sackville-West eloped with Violet Trefusis to a castle in Italy, and Mr. Nicolson and Mr. Trefusis went and got them. The book is not very close to the actual events; for one thing, the homosexuality angle is played down to a sort of rapport or attraction, not particularly sexual or romantic. For another, the actual characters of the two fictional women are not (as far as I could tell) based on the two real ones, nor are the fictional husbands (a solicitor and a novelist) based on the real ones (a war hero in the Royal Horse Guards and a foreign office man who had not yet written any books). I have the impression that Mr. Nicolson was enraged anyway, and that their circle all knew it was about them, but I’m not sure now where I got that impression.
Anyway, the book turned out to be an excellent book, with a lot of funny bits that are genuinely funny. I particularly like the bit where the elderly widow naturally assumes the position of hostess at teatime, being the oldest and an equal contributor to the rent. The woman who made the arrangements (and put up the key money) naturally feels that this is a usurpation, and attempts to reassert her equality over the teapot. “Do let me give you a little more coffee.” “No, thank you. But won’t you have some more?” and so on. The widow doesn’t actually realize that she’s being fought, which makes it much better.
And there are coincidences and foibles and silliness and growth and redemption and all that. It’s rather a good book, really.
Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.