Merry Hall by Beverley Nichols – #1951Club

Merry HallAnd so we come to the end of the 1951 Club – what fun it has been (even though I think I might do most of my catching-up with it after the week is over – again, why on earth did we decide on Easter week?!) – and I’ve saved my favourite book of the week til last. It’s the entirely, utterly, scrumptiously delightful Merry Hall by Beverley Nichols.

I had planned to start writing this review by saying that I’d never read a book by Beverley Nichols, but discovered – while looking through my review list for other 1951 books – that, a handful of years ago, I read and reviewed a selection of essays he wrote with Monica Dickens. How embarrassing that I remember none of this. So, to all intents and purposes, this is my first Beverley Nichols book.

Which isn’t to say he’s new to me. I’ve long believed that I would love his books – and huge numbers of people whose views I trust wholeheartedly have vouched for him. I’m in the happy position of owning another 12 books by him, bought over the past 13 years (!), with this belief firmly in mind – which has, happily, been entirely justified.

Merry Hall is the first book in a trilogy (I am already well under way in the sequel, Laughter on the Stairs) about Nichols buying and doing up a Georgian house with several acres of garden and woodland. It’s non-fiction, presumably heavily tinged with fiction, and it is – well, I am going to use the word ‘delight’ a lot in this review, I can sense.

It begins with house hunting. When I am not having to do it myself, I adore house hunting, and will read any length of it – though, in Merry Hall, it doesn’t last very long. Money is clearly no object, and Nichols buys this substantial property in more or less a trice.

Most of the book examines the plants and planting arrangements that Nichols decides upon, with Oldfield his gardener, and I thoroughly enjoyed it while often not really understanding it. My knowledge of flowers and plants is nil, and I got less from this than somebody more practically-minded might have done. As such, I’ll mostly write about the rest – because there is just as much to love about Merry Hall for those who don’t have green fingers.

It was previously owned by Mr and Mrs Stebbings, and (before that) the Doves – known as the Doovz to the broad-accented, old, and extremely talented Oldfield. Nichols takes an immediate and long-lasting position of loathing to Mr Stebbings, who apparently did every single wrong with house and garden, from planting elm trees – how Nichols would have welcomed Dutch elms disease! – to his choice of wallpaper. (In Merry Hall, he focuses almost entirely on the garden – Laughter on the Stairs looks at the house.) This is a keynote of Nichols’ writing – he is very, very sure of his own taste, and very, very dismissive of anybody else’s. Luckily, he does it in a very, very amusing fashion.

Mr Stebbings has passed on to a better place, but he has an acolyte remaining in the area: Miss Emily. One hopes – for his sake and for hers – that there was no prototype for Miss Emily – or, if there was, that she is sufficiently altered in these pages so as not to recognise herself. In fact, the edition I’m reading was published for The Companion Book Club in 1953 and, rather delightfully, still has the little pamphlet with which it was initially distributed – and, in that, Nichols writes ‘where the female characters are concerned, I have naturally been obliged to invent a few elementary disguises, which are familiar to all authors who wish to avoid libel actions’.

Miss Emily is ‘one big flinch’ – she pops up regularly at Merry Hall, disparaging everything Nichols has introduced and lamenting every element of Stebbings that has been removed. Nichols can’t stand the sight of her, but she is always there – along with her friend Rose, apparently a note flower arranger, who tortures flowers out of their original shape – much to Nichols’ discuss. Terrible person that I am, my favourite moments in the book were when Nichols talks about how appalling he finds this pair – and is similarly wittily irate about a succession of labourers who do not labour. Of course, he wouldn’t dream of doing any of the hard work himself. (Curiously, he is much nicer about Emily and Rose in the sequel – I wonder if locals recognised themselves and threatened action??)

Nichols is everything one expects of a rich, creative, aesthetically-minded gent – albeit maybe more usual in one of the 1920s than the 1950s. Here’s a representative sample of his thoughts:

It is the same when you are furnishing a house. If you have only just enough money to buy a bed, a chair, a table and a soup-plate, you should buy none of these squalid objects; you should immediately pay the first instalment on a Steinway grand. Why? Because the aforesaid squalidities are essentials, and essentials have a peculiar was, somehow or other, of providing for themselves. ‘Look after the pennies and the pounds will look after themselves’… that is the meanest, drabbest little axiom that ever poisoned the mind of youth. People who look after pennies deserve all they get. All they get is more pennies.

While I don’t agree with Nichols’ politics or his cheerful snobbery – though neither of these things stop me loving every moment of the book – there is one area in which I am in wholehearted agreement with him. I don’t think anybody has ever written as wonderfully about cats.

Nichols has two cats – One and Four. These whimsical names supposedly come from the idea that he would have 100 cats over the rest of his life. One is Siamese (the second Siamese of the 1951 Club!) and Four is a black cat, and he writes beautifully about their character and mannerisms, with every bit of the devotion that cats deserve. They weave in and out of the narrative, and won my heart completely.

There is so much I would like to say about this book, but I have already written quite a bit – and I suspect I’ll be writing more about Nichols often over the years. Basically, this is a very funny, very charming book that reminded me a lot of A.A. Milne’s Edwardian stories. It probably says quite a lot about me that my favourite 1951 Club book is completely anachronistic – but I will say to anybody who has yet to read Beverley Nichols: don’t be like me and put it off for a decade; read something by him immediately.

14 thoughts on “Merry Hall by Beverley Nichols – #1951Club

  • April 16, 2017 at 12:11 pm
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    I love just about anything by Beverley Nichols. I definitely agree with you that he writes so well about cats.

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  • April 16, 2017 at 1:23 pm
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    Yay! I *knew* you would love Beverley – isn’t he glorious! And how foolish of me not to check his books to see if there were any from this year! There are many more treats to come from him. Happy Easter!

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  • April 16, 2017 at 2:16 pm
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    I have had four Beverley Nichols books on my To Read shelf for about ten years, too, and have taken Merry Hall and moved it to the top of my Read Next pile. Thanks for the nudge! (I also ordered two A A Milne novels. I have read the Red House Mystery but didn’t know he wrote so much adult fiction).

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  • April 16, 2017 at 3:31 pm
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    I splashed out on this entire set by Timber Press when they reissued his books. Love them, and love Nichols. He appeals to me as a gardener most of all, but I also love his characters and, of course, his cats.

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  • April 16, 2017 at 5:29 pm
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    Happy Easter, Simon.
    I’m a Beverley Nichols devotee and so happy you enjoy him, too..
    Two of my favorite lines from Merry Hall:
    “Well, I love geraniums, and anybody who does not love geraniums must obviously be a depraved and loathsome person.”
    and
    “By the way, the best place to find names for fictional characters, if you are ever foolish enough to write a novel, is in a Bradshaw or an ABC. All the nicest people always sound like railway stations.”

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  • April 16, 2017 at 5:36 pm
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    I loved his trilogy of children’s books ‘The Tree That Sat Down’ , ‘The Stream That Stood Still’ and ‘The Mountain of Magic’ when I was younger. I still have my original copies. His villains were just so wicked!

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  • April 16, 2017 at 10:08 pm
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    The whole series is a treat to read, although I believe that Nichols himself would have been wildly irritating, when he appeared on TV back in the year dot he was a terrific snob.

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  • April 16, 2017 at 11:43 pm
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    I have long been conflicted about Nichols whose books are such fun and such light hearted and delightful reads. His awful sexism, racism, anti-Semitism, his unpleasant politics, his sly meanness, all should mean I refuse to read his books. Instead, I own most of them, and re-read them frequently as comfort reading. Nobody writes more articulately about gardening and how to look at and think about plants. He describes a post-war aesthetic that underpins much of English gardening in the 20th century. It helped me to read Bryan Connon’s terrific 1991 biography, Beverley Nichols: a Life, which explained much of where his snobbish and anti-female attitudes came from, and gave his life a tragic context that, for me anyway, made his faults and failures bearable, if not forgivable.

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    • April 18, 2017 at 12:01 am
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      That’s it exactly! I feel I shouldn’t like him but his writing is so engaging and he really is quite funny. I’ve just finished the second book in the Allways Trilogy and then have the Merry Hall books to look forward to. Perhaps I’ll follow your lead and look up the bio.

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  • April 17, 2017 at 10:29 pm
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    I’m so pleased ‘One’ and ‘Four’ appeared in this – I was getting quite worried reading your review, thinking ‘Wot? No Cats?@

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  • April 18, 2017 at 7:45 am
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    I’m somewhat ashamed to say that I don’t think I’d ever heard of Beverley Nichols until you mentioned him on twitter the other day. This sounds like such a charming read – plus I can never resist a cat or two! Definitely an author to look out for in the future. Thanks for the review.

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  • April 27, 2017 at 9:33 pm
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    I’d never heard of this author until I saw your review. Sounds like reading him would be a rewarding experience though

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  • April 29, 2017 at 10:33 pm
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    Ooh I love the sound of this author already and have ordered the only book I can find of his from my local library services – Green Grows the City….I shall report back….

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