St Lucy's Day, and more from Ember Lane

  A particular sub-species of Christmas entry for Clothes in Books: the feast of St Lucy and the Midnight of the Year

 

Ember Lane:  A Winter’s Tale by Sheila Kaye-Smith

published 1940

 

 

Today is the Feast of St Lucy – much celebrated in Scandinavian countries as a festival of light, and featured on the blog before, with a seriously wonderful John Donne poem (‘the year’s deep midnight…’) and more on the feast, and a book for dancing the darkness down, here.

I did an earlier post on Ember Lane, poor sad Jess and her Christmas misery.

And as it happens, one of the other characters in the book is called Lucinda Light, and this is her birthday.

[Her father] had told her that only very special people are born on the thirteenth of December, which is St. Lucy’s day and the first day of the Scandinavian Yule.

“Lucy Light! Lucy Light!

Shortest day—longest night. . .”

The old rhyme always came back to her now with the memory of his voice. Lucy Light had been his own particular name for her the light which had come into the darkness of his age, the shortest day lying in the arms of the longest night.

Her father is now dead, and Lucinda and her mother have moved to a small Sussex village and live together in the Old Rectory in the Ember Lane of the title.

The book follows the stories of a number of different families, and her widowed mother Brenda Light is much the best character. She might be described as flighty, she’s obviously very beautiful, and men fall for her – Jess’s husband in the first entry is one of them. She is the subject of much gossip in the village.  I liked her for cutting through all the guff about morals, she gets on with her life, and she is actually the only person who tries to be kind to poor miserable Jess (if you exclude the rector’s wife rushing to warn her about her husband’s behaviour). The picture above seems right, as she lounges in her velvet pyjamas in stark contrast with poor Jess running round doing the work of house and chicken farm. (picture by Leopold Gould Seyffert)

Brenda’s relationship with her daughter is marvellously done, and very funny: Lucinda is a very serious young woman, while Brenda is not. It is all rather AbFab.

Lucinda has started an antiquarian society, and turns down a cocktail for orangeade, and these are some of Brenda’s thoughts:

‘Why do you have to be so quaint and elfin?... I don’t see why you should become an antiquarian at seventeen. Isn’t there a tennis club round here?... Orangeade was far too typical of Lucinda—orangeade and folklore.”

In pursuit of the folklore, Lucinda has an outing later which causes Brenda to contemplate: Lucinda, her only chance of a companion, ‘picnicking with the Rectory children on somebody’s grave. If only Lucinda would want to be taken to a skating-rink or a palais de danse they might sometimes be able to amuse themselves in Marlingate.’

The rogue gift from the other entry is, of course, intended for Brenda, and its delivery is the inciting moment for disaster for some.

The Lights have trouble finding ‘help’, and end up with Nan Scallow, much mistrusted by others, and where is her reference? What is going on in Nan's life and why is there so much disapproval?

Another family live in great disharmony: the dead patriarch divided his farm between his two sons, and no-one can get over this. Everyone has taken sides, and do not speak to the others.

All  these connected stories eventually play out – some with happy endings and some very much not, with the rather mad supernatural element playing an unlikely part too.

Not much clothes description, but I liked this for Jess and Brenda meeting by chance in the local town:

 

Brenda is doing her Christmas shopping, “Of course, there isn’t much one can buy in a place like Potcommon, but there are some things in that arty and crafty shop by the church that aren't bad—one’s friends occasionally enjoy local produce.”

Jess meanwhile has been to see the doctor.

And Brenda gets impatient with Jess’s lack of self-protection:

Never before had she met a woman on such unequal terms, and it spoilt the game for her. It was like stealing a child’s sixpence.

Lucinda gets changed into her ‘yellow crepe’ to look smarter, so maybe something like this:

 

Happy St Lucy’s Day – find out more about the customs in this post.

 

St Lucy by Cosimo Rosselli - circa 1470