Yes, my love of Beverley continues apace – and I decided recently to pick up the next of his Allways trilogy, A Thatched Roof (1933). I rushed through, and adored, the Merry Hall series last year – but stalled after the first of the earlier Allways trilogy, Down the Garden Path. Would I prefer this one?
In short, yes. I certainly enjoyed Down the Garden Path, but it didn’t live up to my love for Merry Hall et al. A Thatched Roof definitely felt like a step in the right direction – with more humour, more rounding of the eccentric neighbours, and, crucially, less about gardening. Because here he moves inside.
The low lintels of the cottage have many disadvantages, but they have one supreme advantage. They afford an immediate topic of conversation. They make things start, quite literally, with a bang.
And so starts Beverley. I enjoy reading about gardens and gardening when it doesn’t rely on expertise or references to visuals that don’t appear – but I found Down the Garden Path a bit too heavy on gardening and light on narrative. I don’t mind the ratio so much when he is talking about putting a window into his study, or knocking down a section of wall and finding a surprise alcove. I love reading about interiors and renovations. I also love reading Beverley get snobbish on the topic of other people’s taste, because it is delightfully catty, and the outrage he directs on this topic to the people who rent it from him for a while is quite vicious, in a harmless sort of way. Great fun.
The locals begin to come to life more. There is Mrs M., the local busybody and interferer; there is Undine, who swears by water diviners and thinks everything heavenly (as long as it doesn’t smack of modernity). There are a cast of lesser characters, including a wonderfully lazy and cross housekeeper – none of them shine as brightly as the fond antagonists of Merry Hall, but they offer their own entertainment.
Not least when the topic of electric light comes up. This takes up much of the final section of the book – as they debate whether or not it should come to the village (and then Beverley rebels and gets it all for himself, listing for us the wonders of illuminating statues and stairways). He doesn’t care at all that others can’t share his electricity – indeed, he is not always the most likeable of people, but he writes beautifully and we can charitably assume that a lot of what he writes is self-lampooning or exaggeration. Hopefully…
I bought this book way back in 2004, on the strength of the title and the age of the book (and perhaps, had I flicked through the first few pages, the reference to The Provincial Lady Goes Further). It’s good to have finally read it – and I’m sure I’ll move on to the third of the trilogy before too long. I don’t know if I’ll revisit the Allways books, but it certainly fitted the mood I was in at the time, and that sort of dependability is to be cherished. Now, if only I had an edition with Rex Whistler’s illustrations on the dustjacket…
All your enthusiasm for Nichols is making me wonder if I should give him another try. I’ve only read Merry Hall and it was very funny and well done. But what has stuck in my memory is not his humour but his cattiness and how obnoxious I found it. I wanted so badly to be able to slap him. Maybe the urge will have lessened if I try again now…
He is certainly very catty, but I love that! If you didn’t like Merry Hall especially, then it might well be that Beverley isn’t for you – though some of his other books, like The Sweet and Twenties, might be more up your street.
Ah Beverley! I am perhaps more tolerant of him than you and will happily read him burbling on about anything! Nevertheless I do accept that some of his stuff is better than others. I actually find his snarkiness and cattiness quite refreshing (although I daresay I wouldn’t have thought so if I was on the receiving end). I find myself very happy that he wrote so much! 😁😁😁😁
Yes, thank goodness he was so prolific!
Did you notice the similarity in the cast of both the Allways and the Merry Hall trilogies? And older, competitive and critical female; a younger, fey female; an elderly, poor but genteel ex-governess spinster; and a mad scientist bloke? The two sets of characters are uncannily similar, though Merry Hall has the grumpy gardener par excellence. I agree that Bev could be waspish, and not always merely for comic effect. He was being himself, and from his point of view anyone who doesn’t like that side of him could read a different author. Sometimes annoying but always authentic, I thought, and I like that he was honest. If you only read about the nice elements of his character, you get a rather saccharine book. I prefer him warts and all.
The most I have ever paid for a secondhand book is £50 (though I wouldn’t pay that much for a meal for my friends!), and it was a Nichols with the inscription “With all good wishes” and his signature. I like to think he had me in mind when he wrote it.
Gosh, what a lovely book to have! What a treat :)
And I bought it from Oxfam Books, so I feel happy that my money wasn’t going to corporate profits.
I am always dismayed by prolific authors that I should like, that should be right up my alley but that I don’t get on with. At all. I grimly watch other readers enjoying them, book after &#$@ book, and know I am barred from that particular enjoyment. Anthony Trollope–so many many pages that I will likely never read! Angela Thirkell (ugh). And Nichols too.
Dear Peggy, ungrit your teeth and relax. There are lots of books out there and you can only read a tiny fraction so why worry about the authors you don’t like just because some other people do?
I loved the Merry Hall trilogy, but like you found Down the Garden Path less inspiring. I do like the title, A Thatched Roof, but since it’s not his best will not bother to mark it TBR! Some of the garden books were reissued here in the U.S., but very few of them. One of these days I’ll make an effort to find his books at a university library.
I love the idea of him getting electricity in JUST FOR HIM and not sharing – hilarious!