REVIEW originally published in Folly Magazine No. 53, Autumn 2008 :

by Josephine Elder
Greyladies 2008.
by Susan Scarlett (Noel Streatfeild)
Greyladies 2008.

These two books represent an exciting new venture in the field of what are now often called ‘GO books’ (from the mailing list Girl’s Own - or Girlsown, depending on which bit of the website one looks at).  The GO publishing houses which have been established during the past few years (Bettany Press, Girls Gone By and Fidra being the most notable) have been reprinting collectable children’s books; publishers like Virago and Persephone have focused on women writers of adult fiction.  Shirley Neilson, proprietor of that treasure trove of kidlit, The Old Children’s Bookshelf in Edinburgh, has spotted the gap in the market, and has decided to reissue titles written for adults by the GO authors – titles which are frequently more difficult to find second-hand than their more popular children’s books.
   Her first two titles are well chosen.  Lady of Letters  is the first of the four adult titles written under the pseudonym of Josephine Elder:  in the Encyclopaedia of Girls’ School Stories, Hilary Clare suggests that Elder (in her non-literary incarnation as Dr. Olive Potter) had by 1951 no further need to earn money by her writings, being well established in her day job, so to speak, and was able to branch out into adult romance – though Lady of Letters is about as far from Mills and Boon as a romance can be.  The story of Hilary Moore from her childhood to her success as a university professor is recounted with the sensitivity and insight which Elder brought to her school stories; but she can allow herself a deeper exploration of adult relationships and their complexities than was possible in books written for children.  However, were this all, Lady of Letters  would not be particularly outstanding:  there are many far more profound studies of love and loss.  The real interest of the book is the degree to which it draws on Elder’s own experiences. “The characters in this book are might-have-beens, not portraits,” says the epigraph, and Shirley Neilson, in her excellent introduction, draws at least one parallel:  Eleanor Hunt, the science mistress, is based on Potter’s science teacher at Croydon High School, Miss Ashford.  There are other clearly autobiographical elements in the book:  Hilary’s love of country and farm life, for instance, and the struggle to decide whether to throw up her teaching post to work as a VAD in France during the War - Olive Potter, at Girton, was a contemporary of many undergraduates (Vera Brittain perhaps the most celebrated) who did just that.  One can’t but wonder whether Hilary’s problems of the heart are also based on her creator’s experiences – but that, we shall never know.

   Noel Streatfeild’s children’s books are far more famous than Josephine Elder’s:  many of them are still in print, and a dramatisation of Ballet Shoes was shown on UK TV last Christmas.  Her adult  books are less well know, although she began her literary career with The Whicharts and wrote three further novels before hitting the big time with Ballet Shoes (itself a sort of juvenilisation of The Whicharts); and even more obscure are the dozen romances she wrote for Hodder and Stoughton between 1939 and 1948. 
   Poppies for England, one of the last of there novels (it was published in 1947), follows the fortunes of two show-business families, the Binns and the Corners: they have been friends and neighbours before the war, and once John Corner and Alfred Binns have been demobbed, they form a concert party to perform at Barrows’ Holiday Camp (a clear copy of Butlins).  As in all the Susan Scarlett romances, the plot focuses on the rivalry of two women in love with the same man: in this case, vivid, egocentric Dulcie Corner, a star in the making, and Nella Binns, shy and domesticated, are both in love with Tom Pollard, the handsome and talented show pianist.  Streatfeild makes it obvious that Dulcies’ feelings are based more on lust than true love;  Nella, who wants to darn Tom’s socks and have his babies, is clearly the favourite, and readers will never be in any doubt about the eventual outcome.  However, Streatfeild shows a real gift for plotting in these romances, and the fascination lies partly in seeing just how everyone in Poppies for England  is provided with a happy ending despite all the odds against such a resolution.  Despite their reliance on romantic formulae, and the prejudice which they must arouse in feminist bosoms, these romances are undeniably charming, and Poppies for England not the least charming among them.
   The books are sturdy paperbacks, with useful biographical introductions (Joy Wotton’s essay on Noel Streatfeild, which provides an excellent overview of her adult books and the way in which they reflect her own life, is particularly impressive) and clear print.  My only criticism would be the abstract cover designs: compared to GGB’s reproduction of original dustwrappers they appear rather dull [unfortunately none available!  SN]  they appear rather dull.  Still, this hardly detracts from this praiseworthy venture by Shirley Neilson; we wish her all success.

© Sue Sims, 2008

REVIEW originally printed in The New Chalet Club Journal, November 2008 :

 by Josephine Elder.
Greyladies 2008.

This is an adult book written by an author whose schoolgirl fiction many New Chalet Club members love almost as much as EBD’s works!  In Lady of Letters, we follow Hilary Moore from childhood through to mature adulthood with unerring focus on her learning, both formal and incidental, leading to her subsequent professional career in education. Her many different relationships with family, friends, colleagues and eventual emotional entanglements are worked beautifully into the story. The scenes with her parents made me uncomfortable, so easily did I recognise the sheer helplessness of a child stuck between a weak but loving parent and a cruel, heartless parent. Hilary is exceptional and effortlessly makes the right career decisions but it is her relationships, both platonic and romantic, that are flawed. Sometimes you just don’t like her, finding yourself willing her to apologise when she thoughtlessly hurts those closest to her. It is testament to Elder’s writing that you feel you know the character so well that you instinctively know what’s best for her. Hilary’s experiences as a female mistress first in a good girls’ school then as a promising young lecturer in a renowned university, where she eventually becomes Professor of History, are a world away from EBD’s staffrooms. Elder has no giggling, fetchingly attractive women, sharing endless boxes of chocolates and gossip with zero career or emotional ambition. That, I suspect, is the simplicity of childrens’ literature. Elder writes convincingly of a very talented, independent woman who in a very ordinary human way eventually gets life’s balance right (in large part thanks to her beloved friend Eleanor’s unselfishness.) I want the BBC to dramatise Lady of Letters and show it one festive season when I and the rest of the country would settle down with some sherry and a piece of homemade Christmas cake and savour Hilary’s story as we did Mr Chips’s or Miss Jean Brodie’s. The Greyladies reprint is really lovely from its tasteful striped cover (so nice not to have to be ‘careful out in public’….), to its wonderful introduction by Shirley Neilson with reference to Hillary Clare’s original research on the author and the story. There are more ‘grown up’ Elders out there. Please, please, Greyladies, please reprint them.

© Janette Purbrick  2008.
 

REVIEW originally published in The New Chalet Club Journal, November 2008 :

by Susan Scarlett (Noel Streatfeild).
Greyladies, Edinburgh 2008.

Noel Streatfeild is still an important name in children’s literature. The fiction library at my school (a girls’ grammar school) has fifteen of her titles in stock, and all of them are borrowed regularly. Her adult books are less well known, although she began her writing career with four adult novels, and always thought of herself as an adult novelist who interspersed her proper writing with children’s fiction. More obscure still are the dozen romances she wrote for Hodder and Stoughton between 1939 and 1948 – not just because few of them were reprinted, but because Streatfeild herself was so ashamed of them that she resorted to the pseudonym of ‘Susan Scarlett’, and rarely acknowledged them. (She wrote them, according to Angela Bull, her biographer, to earn some quick cash.)
Certainly these romances aren’t great literature. Most of them follow a clear formula: a lower-middle-class girl, pretty and virtuous, falls in love with a desirable young man (often, though not always, rich and/or aristocratic); the young man reciprocates her love, but obstacles are deliberately placed in their way by a female rival who wants the hero for herself.
Poppies for England follows this pattern closely, the only variation being the social status of the young man, who – far from being aristocratic – is of unknown ancestry, brought up in an orphanage. However, Tom is clearly destined for greatness: he is a composer of genius, who can write the sort of song that “caught at the ear, that sent audiences out into the night humming, and kept them humming for days”. He is seconded by his employer, the producer F.J. Higgs, to the concert party put together by two stage families, the Binns and the Corners, who have a contract to perform during the summer at one of the Barrows’ holiday camps (clearly based on Butlins). The rivals for Tom’s affection are Nella Binns and Dulcie Corner: to any Streatfeild reader, it will be clear whom one is supposed to prefer, since all her ‘Dulcie’s’ are unpleasant in varying degrees. Nella, a beautiful dancer who is nevertheless always passed over in favour of Dulcie, is quiet and passive; this is something of a problem for Streatfeild, since Dulcie, though egocentric, jealous and sometimes spiteful, is a star in the making, and far more vivid and interesting than Nella, whose great desire is to look after Tom, cook his meals and darn his socks.
Nevertheless, the book, like all the ‘Susan Scarlett’ romances, Poppies for England, like the rest of the Susan Scarlett romances, is enormously enjoyable. The adult novels which Streatfeild wrote under her own name are anything but fun: death, abuse, mental illness, psychopathic child killers and various other nastinesses stalk through the books: Thomas Hardy would be envious. The Susan Scarlett books are as cheerful as the Streatfeilds are dour. In Scarlett’s world, families are happy and united, even when potential tragedy threatens; young men respect their beloved’s chaste innocence, and cats and dogs get on just beautifully. There’s a strong vein of nostalgia running through the post-war books, as well, which we see at its height in Poppies for England, first published in 1947: it’s made clear that the success of the concert party is partly due to the audience’s longing for the old days:

Muriel had opened to many of the older campers the doors of memory. Ever since they had toddled they had seem Muriel, or something like Muriel, in every seaside show, fat, highly-coloured, beaming, singing old ballads. The applause for her was a greeting to an old friend. (p.109)

The song which Tom composes for Nella, ‘Poppies for England’, profoundly affects the audience who first hears it:

The weather was lovely, the poppies were flaming all along the cliffside, the queer, sweetish smell of them mixed with the salt of the sea would be in the campers’ nostrils when this holiday was only a memory. Back in their homes, factories and offices, it would be fine to bring the smell back. “Poppies for England” would do that for them. It was not only in the theatre they sang until the roof lifted. They made the orchestras play it. They sang it in groups as they walked about the camp. (pp.189-90)

For modern readers, too, a certain nostalgia is a large part of the book’s power: indeed, it’s needed to counteract our modern sensibility which tends to disapprove of the desire of Nella, and her fellow heroines in the other Scarlett romances, to marry and have a family rather than a career. The book, like its fellows, is pure escapist fiction – but utterly charming.
Joy Wotton’s excellent and comprehensive introduction provides an overview of the twelve romances, linking the various motifs and settings with Streatfeild's own life and experiences in thoroughly convincing fashion.

© Sue Sims 2008