I'm probably not the last person to finally get around to reading Alan Bennett's The Uncommon Reader, but maybe close to the last. Another one of those "why did I wait so long" moments came after I turned the last page in this one. This is such a charming little book packed with all sorts of bookish goodness and insights into just how a reader grows. I think it will sit comfortably on the shelf alongside Helene Hanff's books, particularly 84, Charing Cross Road, one of my all-time favorites.
You may already be familiar with the story. One day, trying to restrain her barking dogs, the Queen comes across a traveling library parked outside the palace. The only borrower is a young man who works in the palace kitchens. Although the Queen isn't one to take the time to read, she thinks it would be a poor showing on her part not to take out a book and settles on a novel by Ivy Compton-Burnett. Although she finds her a little dry she decides to return the book for another one, and so begins the Queen's love affair with books.
The book is deceptively simple, has a bit of black humor and a deliciously subversive nature to it. Once the Queen is well and truly hooked she begins neglecting her duties to the chagrin of her staff, particularly her private secretary. She is so bold as to play hooky by remaining ill in bed so she can read, or sneaks a book into her carriage on state affairs, holding it just below the line of sight so she can read and wave at the same time. Imagine.
Her staff, her husband, no one can understand her great attraction to books and they do their best to part the Queen from them. But every serious reader will understand only too well what the Queen is feeling--the excitement and delight over discovering a good book. And over time she moves from reading for simple pleasure to having the world open before her in ways she never understood before. She may be Queen but her life is so apart from those of her realm, and the borders beyond that reading gives a glimpse into other lives--bringing them closer together.
"The appeal of reading, she thought, lay in its indifference: there was something lofty about literature. Books did not care who was reading them or whether one read them or not. All readers were equal, herself included. Literature, she thought is a commonwealth; letters a republic. Actually she had heard this phrase, the republic of letters, used before, at graduation ceremonies, honorary degrees and the like, though without knowing quite what it meant. At that time talk of a republic of any sort she thought mildly insulting and in her actual presence tactless to say the least. It was only now she understood what it meant. Books did not defer. All readers were equal, and this took her back to the beginning of her life. As a girl, one of her greatest thrills had been on VE night, when she and her sister had slipped out of the gates and mingled unrecognized with the crowds. There was something of that, she felt, to reading. It was anonymous; it was shared; it was common. And she who had led a life apart now found that she craved it. Here in these pages and between these covers she could go unrecognized."
Are you curious which books the Queen reads? She begins with Ivy Compton-Burnett, and follows up with two of Nancy Mitford's books, The Pursuit of Love and Love in a Cold Climate. Norman, the kitchen boy turned-amanuensis recommends J.R. Ackerley's My Dog Tulip. She reads a bit of Dylan Thomas, John Cowper Powys and Jan Morris. She even reads celebrity biographies like that of Lauren Bacall and one of the tragic life of Sylvia Plath. She'd like to discuss the finer points of French author Jean Genet with the president of France but the poor man is unbriefed on the subject and unable to do so. She eventually moves on to the likes of Beckett, Nabokov and Philip Roth. Even the once impenetrable Henry James becomes a delight. She gradually moves from reading for pleasure to writing about her reading and then writing in general. The twist at the end is perfect.
There's much to like about this book. It's a meditation on reading and also a satire poking gentle fun at the monarchy. Although this is a one-sitting sort of read, I think you'll find much to ruminate on if you pick it up.