If you had to choose between telling someone the truth about their life and bringing back a recollection of unhappiness and the possibility of being sent back to a battlefield, or leaving them be with only half a memory but in a state of contentment, which would you choose? That's the moral dilemma presented in Rebecca West's The Return of the Soldier, an extremely impressive debut novel written when she was only twenty-four in 1918. I read this two years ago realizing at the time that it was a beautifully written story and one that deserved more than one quick read, so was happy to revisit it now for Caroline's readalong. My copy is a mere 82 pages, but it's a complex story that looks at the inner lives of three women who await the return of a soldier of the Great War.
The soldier of the story is Chris Baldry, a victim of shell shock, who is suffering from amnesia and returns home to recuperate. The life he recalls is one of a more bucolic time, happy and pleasant that occurred fifteen years earlier. He doesn't remember his pretty, aristocratic wife, Kitty. He doesn't remember his country estate. At least not the country estate with so many changes and improvements to the décor. But he does remember his cousin, Jenny, who narrates the story. She's a spinster now, a confidante of sorts to Kitty, but she and Chris were once close friends. It's his first love, Margaret Allington, the daughter of a innkeeper, whom he thinks he's coming back to. These are the women who "helped shape his life" and it's only through these three distinctly different women he might find his way back.
Although the war has caused Chris's amnesia, it takes a backseat to the rest of the story. It looms in the far distance as a place he might return to when he's cured, but it does press upon the dreams of Jenny who is quite disturbed by it. It's obvious she has a great affection for her cousin who she has known her entire life and is quite close to. So close that she has remained on the estate with Kitty while he is away fighting. The two women are companionable enough, but their lives are thrown into an upheaval when they receive a visit from a woman not of their class who seems to have information about Chris. They believe she's there to extort money from them, as they've had no news from the war office that Chris has been wounded or is in any other way ill. They're ready to send her on her way when she produces a telegram that was sent to her from a French hospital. She mentions a further letter but is so emotionally distraught she won't or can't give it to them and dashes from the house.
To Kitty, the telegram and what's inside it is an affront. She doesn't understand why she was never told about this former lover and has little sympathy for the state her husband appears to be in. She can't bear to think of her splendid husband being mad. Whereas Kitty is cold and hard, self-centered and probably a bit of a snob, Margaret is all goodness despite her difficult situation. When Chris does return home he's bewildered by these two women--Kitty and Jenny, one he seemingly doesn't know and the other aged almost beyond his recollection. He's all propriety and good manners but he's lost in this strange world. In the end he asks to see Margaret again, knowing the pain it will cause, but unable to deal with his circumstances otherwise.
It's left to Jenny to act as a sort of go-between for Chris between Kitty and Margaret. She's embarrassed by Margaret's poor living conditions, which are almost squalid compared to Baldry Court but in time sees Margaret not as someone lacking due to her poverty but rich with an inner beauty and generosity of spirit. In time she is drawn to her as well and understands Chris's attraction. Jenny learns of Chris's youthful romance with Margaret in part through a letter from a relative and later Margaret shares the rest. Monkey Island in the reminiscences of Chris and Margaret is almost a magical state rather than a place, but the inn on the island where Margaret lived and worked with her father was where the two met. Their romance was brief and idyllic until a silly argument drove them apart. Much like the letter that was shoved under the carpet rather than just under the door in Tess of the D'Urbervilles, letters that should have found their recipient but did not meant an entirely different ending for the two lovers until this unusual meeting.
As I was reading I thought how every sentence was weighty and full of meaning, so I wasn't surprised when I cam to the introduction and found that West believed "a novel should have no empty sentences". This is a story where not much happens, yet is filled to the brim with ideas and thoughtfulness and lots of imagery. It isn't just about war but about class and love and dignity and choosing between what's right and what's just convenient. There's lots going on under the surface of this story, so don't be deceived by it's size. Although this was West's first novel, she was already a published author and was raising a child. This is a story influenced by the times and reflects the burgeoning science of psychology. The first time I read this I said I would read more of West's work, but I have not yet done so, something I need to remedy soon.
Thanks to Caroline for the gentle push to read The Return of the Soldier again. Do read her very perceptive post and the discussion taking place in the comments section. Next up in April is The Winter of the World by Carol Ann Lee, which I already have sitting on my night table.