A Coronation and a Question

What Did It Mean? by Angela Thirkell

published 1954

 

 


This one was suggested when we were looking at books with question-marks in the title last year. When I found out it was a later book in Angela Thirkell’s oeuvre, dealing largely with preparations for celebrating the coronation of QEII in 1953, and that Lydia Merton – a great favourite Thirkell character – featured, I was keen to read it.

First of all the title: It’s a bit ragged, but I think the point is that someone has got hold of an ancient prophecy from a local rural gent, and some of the characters are trying to work out what it all means? Something like that - it’s very like Harry Potter. But it doesn’t impinge much on the plot to be honest.

That is, if you can call it a plot. All the local nobs meet up for social events, formal and informal, and discuss the affairs of the neighbourhood. This alternates with meetings of the Coronation committee, planning a day of entertainments after the big event: ie everyone watches the service on their new-fangled TVs, and the next day they have their own celebrations.

All kinds of old friends from previous books turn up, particularly from Thirkell’s Northbridge Rectory, including Miss Pemberton and Mr Downing. There are some unexpected developments there, and, even more important, this allows me to use again this great favourite picture used by me to reprsent them.





(The photo, from 
the Smithsonian, is of Herbert Spencer Jennings and his wife)

And of course there is a pageant, something I do love in a book. You can find many of my posts on this topic, and more wonderful pictures like these two, using this link



There is the usual snobbishness and acceptance of the innate superiority of the gentry. A former Lady Pomfret ‘had never put on a pair of shoes or boots in her life’ – the maid did it. This does not, to me, indicate superiority, but rather the opposite.

There is then a discussion of girdles – much featured on the blog last year – with the current Lady Pomfret objecting to these items being called a belt:

‘I can’t see why one says belt now,’ she added. ‘Belts don’t go from above your waist to half-way down your thighs,’ to which Lucy replied that girdle was even sillier, but what else was there to call them and her mother would say stays when she bought them, which Lady Pomfret said was perhaps better than corsets.

Nice sociological moment in my ongoing researches.


Thirkell is very good at random conversations, and people hiding their innermost thoughts, or misunderstanding each other, but I thought in this book she went too far in her authorial voice. Take this:

‘I do see what you mean,’ said Lydia, ‘and thank you very much indeed. I think I hear the front door’ (which phenomenon will readily be grasped by our reader) ‘so shall we go into the drawing-room.’

The book is full of this – ‘you will know what we mean’ – but in very pointless and unnecessary ways. I do not think the clause in brackets adds anything. And another example:

They quite forgot to turn off the stew in the oven (a phrase which every housewife will understand) till they smelt something burning.

And then there were the authorial putdowns of people who pronounce words differently and in general were hilariously stupid compared with the poshos: they don’t have the breeding you see. This is the reason I can only take Thirkell in small doses, never more than one book at a time.

But – it was entertaining when it wasn’t cringe-making…

Girdle picture,Vogue, 1951, via Clover Vintage Tumbler.

Norman soldiers from the Builth Wells Historical Pageant, one of my all-time favourite resources, via Flickr.

Elizabethan lady and gentleman, same source

People can keep writing books with pageant scenes, or finding new such books for me, and I will never run out of pictures, the collections online are just wonderful.

The Coronation itself is not featured much in the book, it is the surrounding local events we are dealing with.

For interest, I looked at David Kynaston’s excellent book on social history, Family Britain 1951-57 (he has done a series of them, using contemporary resources including newspaper cuttings and Mass Observation diaries, and they make for fascinating reading.)

‘As in the case of the Royal wedding six years earlier, it had taken a while for public opinion to warm up.’ – and he quotes some very neutral opinions on the Coronation. Of course there was a complete range of views, and there are descriptions of decorations in streets (snap judgement: more in terraces of working people than in middle-class suburbs), plans for street parties, and the usual class consciousness, with a story of some parents worrying about the mixture of children at the party. You do feel that any normal child would just want to go to the party and eat cake and run around, and not care who else was there. And to be fair to Angela Thirkell, she doesn’t much distinguish the class of children – just seems to be not keen on any of them.

I loved the detail that organizers who had collected money for parties were reluctant to buy the food at the Co-op, because they might be thought to be benefitting themselves unduly.

Co-op shops had a membership scheme, a kind of cashback. Everything you bought was noted, and eventually you got a ‘divi’ – a dividend. When you bought something you told the cashier your divi number to be sure of getting your future discount. I remember as a child going to the Co-op for my auntie, and being terribly worried afterwards because I had given my mother’s divi number instead of that of her sister.

I do feel that Angela Thirkell and her party organizers would have had no knowledge or worries about this particular aspect.

The weather was famously terrible on Coronation day, which must have delighted the doom-sayers who had said people must be mad to be planning to sit out in the streets.

My family were far from being Royalists, but when I was growing up, always in our house was an old book called The ABC Guide to the Coronation, by Lewis Broad with illos by Hazel Cook. It cost 2/6, and I think was on sale beforehand so you could understand what was going on. This book eventually came to me (no-one else wanted it) so I am giving it this late outing: top picture shows the cover and some of the content.

The 1953 Coronation has featured in various books on the blog:

Conjurer’s Coffin by Guy Cullingford

Parenting and Pageants (Charlotte Fairlie by DE Stevenson)

Dress Down Sunday: Wildfire at Midnight by Mary Stewart

Xmas Book Scenes: Village Carol Service

The Elly Griffiths book The Blood Card

Tuesday Night History and Mystery: The 1950s Again

-       Is a modern thriller about a threat to the coronation of Elizabeth II

This book is set at the time of the coronation of George VI:

To Wake the Dead by John Dickson Carr

This extraordinary memoir by Princess Marie Louise features many coronations, from Edward VII to Elizabeth II

My Memories of Six Reigns by Princess Marie Louise


Comments

  1. Are there any real housewives (that is, women who did the cooking and housekeeping themselves) in Thirkell? I remember a lot of Cooks mentioned, and some cook-and-housekeeper combos. Not to mention Nannies! Am I forgetting a lot? I didn't really understand either of those parenthetical author comments, but I'm obviously not from the right level of society!

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    1. Another reader probably knows better than I, but my thought is exactly the same - families either have help, or are employed as help.
      She is questioning quite normal colloquial phrases. I presume she would equally comment on 'she answered the door', but it is perfectly reasonable, no-one would not undestand, and surely is actually one of those items from rhetoric, where one item stands in for another (metonym? Synecdocehe?) Twee comments not required thank you, especially ones that you suspect are implying that these usages have something wrong with them.

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    2. What about the Phelps family in Jutland Cottage (an Admiral and his wife and daughter)? IIRC the whole book is about how poor they are and how poor Margot has to do all the housework, and I’m fairly sure that at the outset they don’t have domestic help; but then all the gentry rally round to restore them to some kind of respectable middle-class equilibrium. Can’t remember whether that includes getting them at least a “daily”.

      Re: the unnecessary parenthetical comments – I wonder whether pedantic readers had been writing in with criticisms of Thirkell’s more colloquial phrases and that’s what made her defensive?

      Sovay

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    3. Mrs Parkinson (I think), the new vicar's wife, does her own housework. The Parkinsons seem to represent the new post-war middle class risen from what was the lower classes; he doesn't know how to pronounce Greek properly and she talks about "the kiddies," but the snobby gentry come round to seeing that at least their hearts are in the right place and they work very hard. I'm not sure which book they first appear in.

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    4. I'm glad you were both able to find some hard-working housewives.

      Sovay, that's very possible about the remarks, though I would have pictured Thirkell as not having a moment for any such complainants....

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    5. I'd forgotten about Margot--or rather I remember her mostly in terms of "foundation garments"! And Mrs Parkinson, was she the accident-prone lady who seemed to have a different injury whenever she showed up? Maybe she got her boo-boos from housework. I vaguely remember someone sneering about the new vicar's mis-pronunciations, but wasn't he (the sneerer) reprimanded later?

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    6. "Belts" figure very largely in Jutland Cottage!

      I remember the accident-prone woman - I found her extremely annoying but can't recall her name. I'm pretty sure she wasn't Mrs Parkinson though.

      Sovay

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    7. Your level of memory/knowledge is much better than mine! I've read all these books, and blogged on many of them, and I do not remember the names or distinguish among them. I shall rely on you all for info

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  2. Thirkell also wrote a historical novel about another coronation, that of Victoria in 1838, called Coronation Summer. I haven't read it, it seems rather unusual for Thirkell. Wonder if the snob factor would be even higher than in her Barsetshire books?

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    1. Interesting - if I saw a book by her called Coronation Summer I would assume it was just like this one! Somehow I don't fancy it.

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  3. I have to admit, Moira, I did feel the cringe in the story as you were describing it - especially the whole class thing. But still, I can see how you found it entertaining at times. And those are some nice bits about different clothes, too.

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    1. She is always a mixture of snobbery, and fun observations about life and clothes. I can just about put up with that

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  4. Angela Thirkell and I have never got on but I will try this one because I love a pageant and there was so much pageantry in London after 1945. Maybe because it was easier lash up costumes from old clothes for an imagined past than find new clothes. Christianna Brand in Death of a Jezebel (1949) is good on this. Or maybe because. 'Poetry and pageantry, they say, are England's greatest arts' wrote Norman Hartnell in his autobiography. He doesn't say who said it but he did design the Queen's Coronation robes and many of the other costumes and dresses and the decor for the great day. His descriptions of the extraordinary sewing skills mixed with cheapskate economies are hilarious. For him the peeresses '...look like a lovely hunk of fruit cake; the damson jam of the velvet, bordered with the clotted cream of the ermine sprinkled with sugar of diamond' You can tell sugar rationing was still in place! I love his description of the dignitaries, too, especially Her Majesty Queen Salote of Tonga walking ' ...gracefully upon sensible sandals of beige suede'. I need those sandals.

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    1. The peeresses sound more like a generously-filled Victoria sponge than a fruit cake (which would be shades of rich dark brown).

      Was it Queen Salote who endeared herself to all by insisting on riding in an open carriage, visible to the watching crowds, despite the torrential rain? I’m not sure about the practicality of beige suede sandals in those conditions though!

      Sovay

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    2. I have checked and it does say fruit cake in my copy but I absolutely agree - cream and jam must be a Victoria sponge. You are right about wonderful Queen Salote, yes she insisted on riding in an open carriage because she considered that the Coronation was for the people. I just love the idea of these anachronistic plain sandals and her gracefulness. She wore the sandals with a gorgeous strawberry coloured satin wrap. Fab.

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    3. I must read the Norman Hartnell book, it sounds wonderful.
      Queen Salote was obviously wonderful, we can all love her. I'm sure she would willingly sacrifice her suede sandals to the rain to keep the crowds happy. And - they sound perfect don't they? Sensible and comfortable and smart.

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    4. Silver and gold: the autobiography of Norman Hartnell. Published by Evans Bros. 1955. My edition from V&A Publishing, 2019. It isn't currently available from the V&A but lots of 2nd hand copies knocking around

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  5. Miss Pemberton’s hat is superb.

    Lydia plus a pageant is so tempting but I’m not putting this one on the list, as I can only cope with very limited exposure to later Thirkell; I think she was one of those who assumed that once the war was over, life for the gentry would automatically revert to the way it had been pre-war, with leisure and money and servants and due deference from the lower orders, and the realisation that a lot of the wartime social changes were going to be permanent filled her with resentment which comes across in waves in some of the post-war books.

    I’ve always thoughts that “stays” WAS the accepted upper crust term for the garment in question (“corsets” being vulgar, though the reason for this distinction was never clear).

    Sovay

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    1. Very much so, re her post-war views, but then I didn't like her pre-war views about the settled way of life, either. For me I can put up with that for the fun bits, but I can easily understand that others feel differently!
      Stays were overtaken by corsets: stays more or less kept a straight line, whereas the corsets started to have cups (very roughly speaking). But that's not to say that the words didn't have class indications - I've not come across that distinction myself but am not arguing

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    2. Somehow I find the pre-war complacency more bearable than the post-war resentment!

      I think we need Daniel Milford-Cottam to assist with the stays/corsets/girdle/belt issue.

      Sovay

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    3. Being able to blame the socialists for everything is handy for her, post-War, and she doesn't hold back. Along with: 'but the old system suited US so well, why change it?'
      Yes, a visit from Daniel would be welcome...

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    4. Ah yes, “Them”! In one of the post-war books, IIRC, “They” were believed to be deliberately withholding stocks of swansdown powder puffs from the shops, just to spite the gentry …

      Sovay

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  6. Oh joy! A book about the Coronation (the one before the latest). Well, I have one to offer, complete with pageant and a new television set. But I'll save it just in case you do an entire post on books with Coronations in them. Oh please.

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    1. I have done so many coronations I'm not sure whether I can dig them all out again! There is a Paul Gallico book that I haven't done (but I didn't care for it so much...). Please tell me what your book is! You can email me the name if you want to keep it private 😀😀😀

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  7. No pageant in fiction can compete with the Riseholme Elizabethan fete in Mapp and Lucia. I was, alas, born too late to take part in such a production. In the 1960s my elementary school class was made to perform folk dances at the local fete, but I think this was the last remnant of the tradition.
    Nerys

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    1. Ah Riseholme, indeed. One of my favourite factoids is that when they did a TV version, in the 1980s I think, the costume designers went to charity shops to buy old curtains to make the posh costumes, as they felt that is what have been used when the books were written. Satisfying.
      Fetes and shows of different kinds still go on, but you have a point - the performance element is somewhat lacking.

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  8. In the 50s, I called girdle's "corsets" and was quickly shushed and quashed. Now everyone calls them corsets because we've forgotten the terminology of girdle and belt. At school we called them "roll-ons".

    Riseholme footnote: in the book Mapp and Lucia compete to appear in costumes decorated with flower borders from curtains - hollyhocks, delphiniums. Story garbled in telling? (Lucy)

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    1. The chintz flower appliqué rivalry was between Miss Mapp and Diva, before Lucia arrived on the scene – and has overtones of class consciousness, suitable for a comment on a book by Angela Thirkell.

      It was Diva’s idea and she was working on her coat and skirt, assisted by her maid Janet, when Miss Mapp found out by underhand means what she was doing and decided to steal a march. This she did by roping in her rather larger domestic staff to do the work, and thereby getting her appliquéed coat and skirt finished first. But Diva hit back by giving HER finished outfit to Janet to wear in public, thus suggesting to the upper circles of Tilling society that Miss Mapp had started a fashion trend suitable only for servants.

      Sovay

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  9. As I think I may have said before Thirkell is in the area where the Venn diagram of our literary tastes do not overlap. I have tried, but no ... Chrissie

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