Excellent Women

See my full review at The Emerald City Book Review. As I read Excellent Women, the best-known work by the once-neglected, now widely praised English novelist Barbara Pym, I was reminded of another acclaimed comic novel that I read not long ago: Lucky Jim by Kingsley Amis. On the surface, Amis's hard-drinking, buffoonish misogynist Jim Dixon may seem to have little in common with Pym's un-effusive, church-going “excellent woman,” Mildred Lathbury. But the two books shadow and reflect each other in a fascinating way.

Jim is an exercise in how uncongenial one can make a main character, while still attempting to elicit our sympathy for him. An English professor who apparently despises English literature, he goes on epic benders when he's supposed to be giving a lecture, leaves cigarette burns in the sheets when he's a houseguest, and is unable to disentangle himself from a woman he doesn't love or respect – she's marginally better than no girlfriend at all, it seems, in his “woman-as-object” universe. Some readers find him so awful, he's adorable; I just found him awful.

Mildred, meanwhile, is about as self-effacing as a character presented in the first person can be. Set in postwar London, the book opens with new neighbors moving in upstairs, and as Mildred becomes a witness to and sometimes participant in their disordered lives, so much more glamorous and seedy than her own, we find us asking ourselves what she really thinks about all this. Other characters in the novel are always eager to tell her what she should be feeling, seeming to find the sensibilities of an unmarried woman over a certain age to be public property; she quietly expresses annoyance at this, while baffling us with sideways expressions and half-uncoverings of her true self.

In both books, though, the opposite sex is a total mystery. The masculine Jim approaches this riddle with bluff and bravado, the feminine Mildred with puzzlement and a sort of understated obstinacy. Yet both stories left me with a sense of melancholy, a sadness that human beings must so often miss and misunderstand one another. This was in many ways the source of the comedy, as in a screwball plot where everyone is running in circles after each other, and yet there was an undercurrent of tragedy in spite of the guardedly optimistic endings. Can either Jim or Mildred ever find a satisfying relationship that gets beyond the surface differences which separate us? I'm not so sure.

Interestingly enough, the two authors had a friend in common – the poet Philip Larkin, who both provided the model for Amis's antihero, and had a warm admiration for Ms. Pym, whom he called one of the most criminally underrated writers of our time. This connection seems most suitable, as she helped me to see poor old Jim in a different light, and maybe even forgive some of his excesses. I'll certainly be seeking out more of her novels, continuing to ponder her subtle perspective on men, women, the gulf between us, and the fragile bridges that we might try to build.

this book is really hard to write a review for because much of the time i felt like i was sort of skimming over the surface of something that could've been really juicy or impactful, but never really quite dipping through and giving me that oomph that i was waiting for up to the last page. i know that the English people are stereotyped as being very reserved, reticent, and bury an ocean of emotions underneath a placid surface - this book seems to embody that image exactly, down to the very ending.

Mildred Lathbury is a “spinster” at just slightly above 30 years old who finds herself enthralled by her new neighbours/flatmates, Rockingham and Helena Napier. she suspects Helena Napier, an anthropologist, to be attracted to a fellow anthropologist, Everard Bone. to complicate things, Mildred's close friends, the pastor Julian Malory and his sister Winifred, have their lives turned upside down by their new flatmate, the fashionable and enigmatic Mrs Allegra Gray. a lot of criss-crossing interactions and attractions ensue.

having devoured a lot of 18th and 19th C English literature that centers mainly around the domestic or neighbourhood society, the everyday life and the gossips of people's relationships being the main action of the day, i feel like i'm in a generally good position to appreciate this type of plot, although i can absolutely understand why a lot of people might find it just straight up boring.

i think the main issue with this book is that it kinda just dips its toes into various things but doesn't really quite take the plunge. there's just a bit of social commentary, but not really. there's just a bit of satire, but not really. there's just a bit of romance, but not really. and even in the ending, i was expecting at least some full-blown confession from Everard Bone, or *at least* some kind of well-rounded ending but NOPE, we just kinda have Mildred vaguely agreeing to help him out with his academic research, and it's a super vague indication that it's likely they're going to end up together even though he never once explicitly said anything along those lines.

while this wasn't a hard book to get through, and i was interested enough to know what happens at the end to keep up with the book all the way, when i was done with the book i felt like i had been left high and dry. i had a lingering feeling of dissatisfaction by how a lot of things were portrayed and resolved.

i still gave this book 3 stars though, because the characters were just vivid and humourous enough that i laughed out loud sometimes. the writing was just that bit satirical enough that i smirked to myself sometimes, especially when it comes to Mildred feeling a little despaired about being known as the lady who always had tea prepared when a crisis happens. the plot and the set-up were generally good, it's just that i felt like it was never pushed past a critical point in order to deliver the most impact on the reader, and it was a bit of a missed opportunity.