Demise of the elite
Peter Somerville-Large
Somerville Press, €16.99
Review: Sue Leonard
It’s the emergency in Ireland, and although Paul’s father isn’t obliged to fight, his cronies in the Kildare Street Club have joined up, so he feels he’d better help the English out too. So the young Paul is left in their crumbling estate, with Mummy, and a cast of fairly ineffective servants. They muddle through, giving occasional lunch parties for other local protestants, most of whom have fallen on even worse times.
An Earl’s daughter, Mummy has her eccentricities. She has her dislikes, too. She dislikes, “anyone from Scotland, anyone who fed crumbs to the birds, or put the names of their houses on their gates, or ate sandwiches, or went after honours like the OBE, or, even worse, accepted honorary degrees, people who said someone had passed away rather than died, people who kept poodles, people who grew floribunda roses or preferred geraniums to pelargoniums, de Valera, Lord Mountbatten, the Queen of England. Nurses in particular. Granny in particular.”
As the offspring of a mixed marriage, Paul can choose his preferred religion. Defying her husband, Mummy sends Paul to protestant St George’s as a boarder. By the time Daddy returns, he’s been expelled and has been taught, at home, by a tutor who takes a shine to Mummy. And it doesn’t take long for her to flee. She barely gives her son a backward glance.
His mundane existence is redeemed, in middle age, by marriage to the energetic Moira. She runs the estate, and the house with a deft hand. Paul imagines himself happy. But when Mummy appears; aged 85, half blind and increasingly irascible, he finds himself relieved. She makes him laugh. Soon dogs, and disorder are restored.
The author was born in 1928. This isn’t his story but the novel is clearly informed by Somerville-Large’s background. Authenticity seeps through every page.
He has produced a wonderful account of the impoverished elite; and with Downton Abbey fever sweeping the land, it should find an audience. In truth, though, this novel has far more resonance. It’s extraordinarily funny, but in a subtle, un-showy way. At times I was reminded of Evelyn Waugh, and especially of Decline and Fall. It’s relevant, too, in showing the power of the church. This was a time when a priest knew everybody’s business. And when he wasn’t averse to inviting himself to stay, to keep an eye on the drinking and piety of a family.
It’s ultimately sad. Throughout life, Paul is thwarted at every turn. He’s caught out in every misdemeanour. We leave Paul widowed and alone. And mouldering in a mansion that’s surely beyond repair. He seems utterly defeated. Will he take an easy way out, and agree with his half-brother’s scheme for a rescue?
