I think Elizabeth Jenkins's The Tortoise and the Hare will easily make my top ten list of favorite reads this year. I had not heard of this book or author before it was chosen as one of Cornflower's book group selections. When I knew I wouldn't be able to finish it for the discussion it was set aside temporarily, but that did nothing to detract from the impact of the book when I finally got back to it and finished the last half. I'm going to borrow Hilary Mantel's very apt description of the story and also call it "exquisite". When I first began reading I knew it was a book deserving to be read slowly. As a matter of fact I found myself wanting to stop and reread passages along the way. I've already decided that a second read is in order, and it must be read slowly and without other distractions. Perhaps over the holidays when I have more free time.
The subject matter is not particularly happy. It's a novel about marriage and infidelity. But Jenkins twists things around a bit and breathes new life into what might seem like a clichéd topic. It's often a case of a middle aged husband leaving a marriage for a younger, more attractive woman. That's not always how it works now, but this story is set firmly in the 1950s when social roles were more rigidly defined. Instead, imagine what would happen if the man left his beautiful younger wife for a portly, staid middle aged neighbor.
Evelyn Gresham is a successful barrister. He's often critical of his wife and is very particular about how his home is run and their son is raised. While he works in London, Evelyn and Imogen make their home in the country where he finds respite from the stresses of his profession. About fifteen years separate Evelyn from Imogen. She's got a lovely face and slender form, and is as docile as they come. And she tries hard to please him. But for all his genteel manners I found Evelyn a bit of a brute. As he moves into middle age he finds the pleasures of an ornamental wife waning. At every turn Imogen feels thwarted and unappreciated, not only from Evelyn but their son, Gavin, who's a real pill. The acorn didn't fall far from the tree and he's rather too like Evelyn in all the wrong ways.
Enter Blanche Silcox. She is the Gresham's nearest neighbor and a force to be reckoned with in the countryside. Blanche is the epitome of dowdiness, however. Short and fumpy with poor taste in clothing especially in hats, she seems to be the polar opposite of Imogen. What she lacks in physical attributes she makes up in her ability to organize and run things. She's eminently capable. She's also wealthy and well able to manage her affairs on her own. And for this Evelyn's head is turned.
At first it's simply a matter of similar interests. In all areas Blanche is very much a country woman, enjoying fishing and riding and serving on endless committees. Evelyn and Blanche become friends through their shared interests and even Gavin doesn't mind her so much. Blanche takes matters in hand and offers riding lessons for Gavin and afternoons filled with fishing. Things go so far that Evelyn's fortnight walking holiday (without Imogen) happens to be near where Blanche herself will be vacationing. Daily walks over the Blanche's home and frequent phone calls, it doesn't take long for Imogen to suspect there's more to their relationship than simple friendship.
What was previously Imogen's key to Evelyn's heart has become her curse. She's too ornamental. She doesn't drive, doesn't ride, doesn't enjoy many of the same things that Evelyn does. Hilary Mantel writes:
"Imogen's soft girlish qualities, which originally attracted him, have melted into an ineffectuality that could be cloying. He receives deference from his courtroom juniors, and he expects it from his wife--his expectations may not be reasonable, but we see why he has them."
He wants his home life to be cushy and comforting and he wants his wife to manage these things, and it's probably not too hard to see who can manage these things better--Imogen or Blanche.
By today's standards Imogen is too passive. Unable or unwilling to fight for what's really hers, she sees clearly what's coming. For all her shortcomings I couldn't help but like Imogen and felt in the end she made the only practical choice that would ensure happiness in the long run. I feel I should have more sympathy for Blanche, but I can't. Why shouldn't a dowdy, middle aged spinster try and find happiness? But she was brutal in her actions, insidious really. She knew full well what she was doing and for that I can't like her. So the question Elizabeth Jenkins puts to the reader--who is the tortoise and who is the hare? I'll leave it up to you to decide--this is a novel I highly recommend. I have my own answer to that question!
It seems appropriate that I write this post this weekend as Elizabeth Jenkins has just celebrated her 104th Birthday! Along with many biographies, she's also written twelve novels and a memoir (The View from Downshire Hill), which I will be on the lookout for. She was educated at Cambridge, "condescended to by Virginia Woolf and befriended by Elizabeth Bowen." She was one of the founders of the Jane Austen Society (and wrote a biography of her as well). It seems fitting that she took an interest in Austen as her own writing is so eloquent and psychologically intuitive. Even lesser characters in the novel play an important role and are sharply defined. Just as Mollie Panter-Downes was one of my great finds in previous years, Elizabeth Jenkins is my great find this year.