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charleslambert's review
3.0
I'm the last person to whine when books written decades or centuries ago fail to match up to current notions of political correctness (and this is not an attack on PC itself!), but I think I might have given this book four stars for its many undeniable qualities if it hadn't reminded me so shamelessly of just what an appallingly class-ridden society Britain was in the 1950-60s. I say shamelessly because Berridge, for all the fineness of her emotional and creative intelligence, all of which is amply on display in this novel, never imagines that the world beyond, or rather beneath, the one she describes - a world of dwindling private incomes, devoted staff and not taking one's hat off for tea - isn't simply barbarism howling at the door. If the novel had managed - just once - to mention the world of council houses and supermarkets without the finicky larding of adjectives like 'ugly' or 'horrible', or had showed the merest glimmer of novelistic insight when describing the son of the family's faithful retainer - a (shudder) supermarket assistant manager - rather than painting him in the crudest, broadest strokes possible, this would have been a richer, and far less dated novel. If I thought for a minute that the title contained a play in the word 'common', or that the image of someone using a telescope to observe, almost wistfully, the lives of the people across it, had a metaphorical resonance, I'd respect the book more. As it is, by playing to her own limitations and to the presumed limitations of her readership, Berridge - and the perception at the heart of her book - is sadly blinkered.
jessreadthis's review
4.0
I thoroughly enjoyed this one. That bastion of British Aunts is a formidable one to come up against. That is exactly what Louise does when she returns to her family home, The Hollies. Her marriage is changing, she's not sure how she feels about that. Louise also has childhood baggage that she hasn't sorted through and unpacked, mentally and emotionally. Returning home to the familiarity and routine of her aunts seems like the solution.
Returning home is bittersweet. Her aunts have aged. The house has aged. Evidences of time and the frugality of fixed incomes are too obvious to ignore. Yet her aunts cling to their pride, their ancestry, decorum, and way of life fiercely. As Louise begins to find chinks in their armor, humanizing them, she also discovers a settling in herself. When a letter from her father finds its way to her revealing a family secret never spoken of; Louise makes it her purpose to uncover the truth and bring healing to the family.
Though this sounds like a contemporary book. It really isn't. There are gothic undercurrents in the plot along with a darkness in the Victorian house's imagery. A few moments has me concerned that someone was lurking to do harm to Louise. Humor is interlaced in the sentences along with a sense of poignant nostalgia. This was my first Berridge and it won't be my last.
Returning home is bittersweet. Her aunts have aged. The house has aged. Evidences of time and the frugality of fixed incomes are too obvious to ignore. Yet her aunts cling to their pride, their ancestry, decorum, and way of life fiercely. As Louise begins to find chinks in their armor, humanizing them, she also discovers a settling in herself. When a letter from her father finds its way to her revealing a family secret never spoken of; Louise makes it her purpose to uncover the truth and bring healing to the family.
Though this sounds like a contemporary book. It really isn't. There are gothic undercurrents in the plot along with a darkness in the Victorian house's imagery. A few moments has me concerned that someone was lurking to do harm to Louise. Humor is interlaced in the sentences along with a sense of poignant nostalgia. This was my first Berridge and it won't be my last.
balancinghistorybooks's review
5.0
I received a delightful Abacus paperback copy of Elizabeth Berridge's Across the Common as a birthday gift. As I have been keen for quite some years now to try Berridge's work, I began it within the week, and thoroughly enjoyed the reading experience. Noel Coward described it perfectly when he wrote that the novel is '... entirely good and most beautifully written. I love her subtlety and observation and impeccable characterisation...'. Me too, Noel. Me too.
Although she seems to have fallen into something akin to disregard in the twenty-first century, Berridge's 'crisp and distinctly English style of writing established her as one of the most significant novelists of the post-war years.'
Originally published in 1964, Across the Common takes as its focus Louise, who has decided to leave her husband. She opens by saying: 'I know it was finished, as I finished it myself... I cooked ahead for three days, took a purple pill and under its influence was able to write some sort of crazy note. He didn't know I had those pills: he thought I was too stable to need them.'
Louise returns to her childhood home, The Hollies, a large rambling building which stands at the edge of a common in the fictional town of Pagham Green. The Hollies is 'tall and big and excelled in useless crenellations'. The house has, over the years, become 'a refuge for that vanishing species, the Great British Aunt' - specifically, acidic and judgemental Seraphina, who steals cuttings of plants from royal parks to grow them in her own garden; Rosa, the eldest, and therefore the one who makes all of the decisions; and 'tiny and malevolent' Cissie. When Louise arrives, without having notified anyone, she finds her 'aunts stood at either side of the front door, without surprise, and embraced me in the intense, dry way of the elderly.' The house has become a space exclusively devoted to women; the family has, over the years, 'shed its men'.
Along with Louise's present day story, and the turmoil which she feels to be back in her old home, run many memories of her early life. These memories, all of which have been woven into the narrative, have a delightful flavour to them. She is acutely aware of all of the differences, of all of the things which have changed since she began her independent life. On her first morning, when she walks into the local high street, she observes: 'I moved along the row of shops like a dreamer in a largely alien landscape. Certain things were familiar, familiar enough to lull the dreamer into a sense of false security, so that she does not wake up screaming.'
I found Berridge's acerbic humour both welcome and amusing, and felt that it suited the tone and the plot perfectly. I very much enjoyed Louise's witty asides and muttered comments. She pronounces, for instance, that 'Aunt Cissie had the same effect on me as a lemon was supposed to have if sucked in front of an unfortunate trombonist. She dried up my juices.'
Louise comes to life on the page; she is complex, and feels thoroughly realistic. Her narrative voice is lively and endearing. I enjoyed the rather eccentric cast of characters, and found myself invested in their stories. We as readers are given a lens into the life of a family, meeting both those who exist in Louise's present, and those whom she never met, or knew only slightly.
Across the Common is essentially a domestic novel; in reality, it is so much more than that. There are a lot of quite ordinary scenes at play within it - for example, when Louise is tended to by the ageing housekeeper, or the aunts looking through vast collections of family photographs which have been found in the attic - but Berridge makes each one into something compelling. She manages, somehow, to give different perspectives on the most mundane of occurrences. Berridge's writing is exquisite, as is her attention to detail.
On the strength of Across the Common, I broke my longstanding book-buying ban to buy three more of Berridge's novels, and I am wholly looking forward to reading them. Already, I can see that she could easily become one of my favourite authors.
Although she seems to have fallen into something akin to disregard in the twenty-first century, Berridge's 'crisp and distinctly English style of writing established her as one of the most significant novelists of the post-war years.'
Originally published in 1964, Across the Common takes as its focus Louise, who has decided to leave her husband. She opens by saying: 'I know it was finished, as I finished it myself... I cooked ahead for three days, took a purple pill and under its influence was able to write some sort of crazy note. He didn't know I had those pills: he thought I was too stable to need them.'
Louise returns to her childhood home, The Hollies, a large rambling building which stands at the edge of a common in the fictional town of Pagham Green. The Hollies is 'tall and big and excelled in useless crenellations'. The house has, over the years, become 'a refuge for that vanishing species, the Great British Aunt' - specifically, acidic and judgemental Seraphina, who steals cuttings of plants from royal parks to grow them in her own garden; Rosa, the eldest, and therefore the one who makes all of the decisions; and 'tiny and malevolent' Cissie. When Louise arrives, without having notified anyone, she finds her 'aunts stood at either side of the front door, without surprise, and embraced me in the intense, dry way of the elderly.' The house has become a space exclusively devoted to women; the family has, over the years, 'shed its men'.
Along with Louise's present day story, and the turmoil which she feels to be back in her old home, run many memories of her early life. These memories, all of which have been woven into the narrative, have a delightful flavour to them. She is acutely aware of all of the differences, of all of the things which have changed since she began her independent life. On her first morning, when she walks into the local high street, she observes: 'I moved along the row of shops like a dreamer in a largely alien landscape. Certain things were familiar, familiar enough to lull the dreamer into a sense of false security, so that she does not wake up screaming.'
I found Berridge's acerbic humour both welcome and amusing, and felt that it suited the tone and the plot perfectly. I very much enjoyed Louise's witty asides and muttered comments. She pronounces, for instance, that 'Aunt Cissie had the same effect on me as a lemon was supposed to have if sucked in front of an unfortunate trombonist. She dried up my juices.'
Louise comes to life on the page; she is complex, and feels thoroughly realistic. Her narrative voice is lively and endearing. I enjoyed the rather eccentric cast of characters, and found myself invested in their stories. We as readers are given a lens into the life of a family, meeting both those who exist in Louise's present, and those whom she never met, or knew only slightly.
Across the Common is essentially a domestic novel; in reality, it is so much more than that. There are a lot of quite ordinary scenes at play within it - for example, when Louise is tended to by the ageing housekeeper, or the aunts looking through vast collections of family photographs which have been found in the attic - but Berridge makes each one into something compelling. She manages, somehow, to give different perspectives on the most mundane of occurrences. Berridge's writing is exquisite, as is her attention to detail.
On the strength of Across the Common, I broke my longstanding book-buying ban to buy three more of Berridge's novels, and I am wholly looking forward to reading them. Already, I can see that she could easily become one of my favourite authors.
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