People who say Goodbye by P Y Betts, and Hilary Mantel

I was looking for Victorian memoirs and couldn't find any; Perhaps Edwardian memoirs are just more popular? I ordered this one as it said it was funny; I do love a funny book. This one does not disappoint. P. Y. Betts was an indecently intelligent child who never had her originality knocked out of her which is rather surprising, but perhaps this was because her mother was the same. Throughout the book this is the central relationship - mother and daughter sizing each other up through narrowed eyes, and the mother keeping her knives very, very sharp.

Phyllis asks "What happens to you after you die?"
Mother replies "You rot."

We see the neighbourhood of Wandsworth through Phyllis's eyes. How extraordinary; there were fields at the bottom of their garden! It sounds idyllic. But up the road there's a hospital for the war wounded, across the road there's an undertaker and regular funerals, close by there's a lunatic asylum (with joyful loonies). There are sudden attacks of possibly fatal illness, an incompetent doctor, but also some relatives who are made of very stern stuff and seem capable of living for ever. I wish Phyllis had written more.

Another review here

I have also just read Hilary Mantel's book "Giving up the Ghost" which is also a memoir but poles apart in a way. Hilary was also a clever and spirited girl, who would have liked to have been a boy, and enjoyed her grandfather's company. Her parents' troubled marriage is sensed and not explained to the child. Really, their lack of explanations is everything that's wrong with being a child. Then her school is the most backward type of provincial Catholic school which at times employed cruel and stupid teachers. I too, went to a convent school, and was so much luckier because I loved and respected my nuns, which is terribly unfashionable to say these days. Some of them were, I think, thoughtful and disciplined in a good way. Hilary concludes that being a child didn't suit her personality, and I think, yes, I understand, I was rather similar, and as I grew older I grew more able to draw the lines under and move on, which is what Hilary does. But Hilary has a medical condition which must have been such a terrible drawback to her life, as to say, my life is fine, I have a good brain and a strong spirit but I AM IN TERRIBLE PAIN IN ALL MY BODY except, she says, her ankles and feet. She even has to diagnose her own condition. She seems not to meet a single intelligent doctor, or even a concerned and caring one. The insensitivity she encounters in the medical profession is pretty appalling.

I can say that doctors have improved, even in women's medicine, and I am pretty sure that teachers have improved and are no longer allowed to do the stupid things they used to do. Although, when my neighbour was a teaching assistant, she used to tell me about young teachers who would stand up and gabble at the children without pause, not realising that the children had withdrawn their attention after the first couple of incomprehensible sentences. Young people, pah. (I don't mean this, some of you are great, but listen to yourselves!)

Hilary's book is far more ambitious, in a literary sense, she knows how to create effects that will intrigue a reader. There is a strange intuition that I get from reading Mantel's work that she thinks she knows better than we do - your "mother" is feeding you the ideas/information she thinks are suitable for you, carefully knitted into a shape which she thinks is suitable for you. PY Betts has also shaped her information into a story, but she hasn't made it to suit anyone but herself or used fancy stitches that show her knitting skills; it's just what it is, funny and sharp, and smack, there you are. They are both well worth reading. 5 stars.

Books, and Howard Jacobson

The main problem I have with Howard Jacobson is that he doesn't make me laugh, even when his books are endorsed all over with words like "hilarious" "wit" and plain "funny". This is not problem for him because lots of people find him amusing, but it is for me because I love to laugh and I feel sad about missing the joke.

 

I think it is because there is a male sense of humour that I have no access to; a snorty sort of humour based on a feeling of power and superiority, and I have never had that. Anyway, at present I am reading the collection of his column in the Independent and I knew I liked that - I like his writing. One feels he showcases his skill in the newspaper.

I am particularly taken by a column about books. What to do about one's possessions is a problem that perplexes me. If your possessions are just for you to enjoy right now, you shouldn't worry, but if you are thinking of some future time when you will enjoy your possessions you are probably barking up the wrong tree because many of your things will have deteriorated in condition - the yellowed, fading postcards or pictures, for example, and if you are thinking someone else, in future, will enjoy your possessions when you decide to pass them on, you are also barking up the wrong tree because that other person will not share your taste and will probably only take a mild and passing interest in the things you treasure so much. I am thinking about this particularly in the case of books, because of having to dispose of my mother's possessions and this included a long period of re-reading her books to see if I should keep those by a certain author, and because, although I said that my collection of books would get no bigger and I have imposed a limit, which is the number of bookshelves I already have, I have just authorized the building of three more shelves. The thing is: I have a Kindle. I do not need to buy books unless there is no electronic equivalent and by the way, I have joined The Open Library which is a library online where you can get books that are way out of date, of the kind which previously I had to order through the public library system. One does not need to go out anymore!!

So Jacobson starts by pondering a Montreux prize for a television programme displaying the strongest "human values". He wonders what these are and whether "Getting em off in Ibiza" does not show even more human values? Then he wonders if perhaps we are trying to dignify ourselves but we actually mean something more like spiritual values, or God, even. But if we say spiritual values the words are too light to actually mean anything.

So he's pondering on this while packing up his books; he's moving house. Ah, but his actual words are "relocating his library". That's how many books he has - a library, and he started collecting them from second-hand book stalls when a mere slip of a boy. And people say to you - as his father said to him "How many of those have you read?" They always say that. I remember showing someone who asked me that question a couple of books that I hadn't read. But really I was mystified by the question because I have read more books that I possess, far more. Howard says:

"How do you explain to somebody who doesn't understand that you don't build a library to read. A library is a resource. Something you go to for reference, as and when. But also somethings you simply look at, because it gives you succour, answers to some idea of who you are, or more to the point, who you would like to be, who you will be once you own every book you need to own."

That's neat, it covers the accusation of being pretentious.

He says: "... books worth owning speak to us of our humanity as vexedly as the drunk returning to his own vomit in Ibiza. [OK this is a bit stupid as no-one ever returns to their own vomit, only dogs, in the proverb. But give him some poetic licence.] It's trouble, being human. It's bad for us."

Then he says "books made a bastard out of me, as they are meant to."

Very puzzled about this as it doesn't sound like much of a claim for literature. This very much depends on the books you choose. I know Howard J loves Middlemarch but I can't really see how reading Middlemarch can make a bastard out of anyone. I will have to think about it. However, literature is full of everything you need to know, or think about, and I didn't know that for a very long time, but I was able to tell a young friend of mine, who loved literature but was thinking of studying History and Politics, - don't. Because I did exactly that. The part of politics you love is probably Political Theory and if you study Politics you have to do Comparative Government and things like that which are as boring as can be - leave it to the lawyers - and everything you want to know about is covered in Literature. So she went to the University of Durham and did well in Literature and now she is working in publishing in London. Which was my dream when I was young. So I feel my experience was not in vain.

I think where Howard went wrong is that he didn't try to name the values that he thinks are meant by "human values". The ones I believe form a bridge between man and God are courage, compassion, honesty and humility. These didn't just come into my head. They came from studying art in art galleries. If you get them all in roughly equal quantities you have an awe-inspiring piece of art. But they are not all four displayed together, usually one quality is pre-eminent. But of human values, these, I believe, are the most important.