A year of prompts is very neatly coming to an end, so it is time to have a new list of prompts ready, but I must admit that I have not been especially inspired this week when it comes to blogging or bookishness (other than reading in general reading that is). My list so far feels pretty lackluster, so I will turn my attention to writing about my last prompt instead.
I have mixed feelings about Maud Hart Lovelace's Deep Valley book, Carneys House Party. It is a peripheral story to her Betsy-Tacy series of books. I am not quite sure at what point Caroline Sibley, 'Carney', makes an appearance. I think she must have been a bit older rather than younger, but she is one of the "gang", who at this point is in between her sophomore and junior years at Vassar. It is 1911 and she is returning home to Deep Valley, Minnesota where she plans on hosting a month-long house party over the summer. A celebration (my December prompt "A Celebration") indeed.
Carney is a very practical young woman with good old Middle West Presbyterian values. Her father is a banker and his eye for detail and fastidiousness has rubbed off on her. Though she has her irrepressible moments where her dimple shines through, too. Her Vassar roommate is a thoroughly Eastern woman named Isobel. While the two get on well, whether to invite her home to Minnesota is proving to be something of a dilemma. Will the East/Middle West values clash? She is not ashamed of her home, beautiful as it is, but will Isobel be disappointed?
Carney's other fear has to do with her beau, Larry, who has been in California studying a number of years. They have been faithful correspondents during the entirety of their separation. Their dedication is obvious, but what will it be like when they see each other again? Curiously, though, Carney notes to herself that anyone, even her parents could read those missives. There is nothing "mushy" about them at all. So the tone is set and she decides that there is no reason at all not to invite Isobel. A house party with all her friends and her beau, too, it shall be.
What is the saying about the road to love and romance not being paved well? Enter one wealthy Deep Valley neighbor, Sam, who is rather careless in his grooming habits and all too ready to add any purchase to his "bill" as he never carries cash with him. He thinks nothing of treating all his friends and speaks his mind. Isobel finds him rather charming, but he rubs Carney the wrong way. She deplores his unkempt ways and like her father would never imagine not taking care of expenses on the spot. Sometimes his very presence just rankles. But his charm does on occasion bring out that dimple.
It's always the way. Those who seem least suited are often the ones who find the strongest attachment. When Larry comes home it is as if they were never apart. Always so close they are still the best of friends, just as they were growing up. But Carney's fears are realized as friends they may be, there is no romantic spark between the two. Not like the spark she feels with Sam. It is her roommate and friend, Isobel, who complicates matters. Despite her suitor back East, Isobel seems set on "catching" Sam, and he doesn't seem to mind one bit.
So this house party is filled with all sorts of happy get-togethers and celebrations, lots of jokes and amusements, and a fair few misunderstandings, too. The story is steeped in the atmosphere of the times and the place (they do love to sing), and as it Lovelace was a Vassar girl herself and a Minnesotan as well, it is no surprise there is a real sense of authenticity. The feeling that this is the real world of 1911 was my favorite part of the story.
All those details and minutiae of the times is both appealing, but the reader also is presented with different attitudes and ideas, and there is also an appreciation of just how far the world has come. What made this something of a mixed bag read for me was Carney's insistence that she had no inkling, of course, for any sort of career. She also had no trouble calling Sam out for being fat (though I am sure fat meant something different in 1911 than it does now), even calling poor Sam a "hippo". It seemed mean spirited to my modern ears. Much like rereading Little Women as an adult all those attitudes, prejudices, and moral overtones were very obvious. I can't fault Lovelace, though, for writing what she experienced and thought. But it did dim some of my pleasure in the end. I do still want to go back and give the Bestsy-Tacy stories a try sometime.
Now, to work on next year's prompts.