A late novel in the Barsetshire series (1958), Close Quarters is a little unusual in that it features several deaths. Not that it is a gloomy read at all; there is sadness, but as always the narrative keeps moving as life continues in the fictional houses of Barsetshire. Clergy establish their parishes, family matters discussed, and the vexed questions of where the displaced are to live continues. Those that can gain mysterious access to the rare and nearly rationed do so, while romance is still found. There is much trivial talk of other people’s affairs, and there is as usual only a slight plot to speak of, but there is much to fascinate and indulge in for those who enjoy the life of those Barsetshire people and their daily concerns.
The book opens with a Bring and Buy sale which is meant to benefit the Mixo-Lydians (Thirkell readers will understand) but ultimately benefits a clergy family greatly, thanks to small acts of kindness. It also emerges that Margot Macfadyen’s husband Donald is seriously ill, and as the inevitable takes place she finds support in many places as people appreciate her continuing devotion to her elderly parents. She begins an odyssey of staying with people as she seeks a new house, and during her visits she encounters all the usual suspects as dinner parties and excursions yield everything except a house which is near enough to her parents yet not so close as to begin her servitude once more. An astonishing number of people do visit the elderly Admiral, and are willing to listen to his re-enactments of naval battles which some joke go back to Nelson. Set pieces of dinner parties abound as some characters are almost caricatures of themselves, especially Mr Belton whose very clothes proclaim his role as squire. Long remembered treasures emerge, and are adapted for a new era when the great houses cannot remain in one family’s hands. Canon Fewling emerges as more than a kind observer, and Rose Fairweather, longstanding practical friend to Margot, maintains her aiding and abetting of romance. There are the usual references to other authors; Dickens is praised while George Eliot on clergy is condemned.
This novel is less suited than many as a starting point for those new to Thirkell’s books, as the way characters are dealt with is more enjoyable for those who know of them from several novels. As in many of these books, characterisation is all; from the local undertaker who knows about trees to the delicate confusion of the recently bereaved. There are still difficult moments as the new town is seen as so separate from the established county set, but local prejudices are hard to overcome as Thirkell appreciated. The Mixo –Lydians are still not really dealt many would wish, but there is a certain gentle teasing rather than outright condemnation. Thirkell admits that she does not find it easy to keep up with all the names, and I particularly dislike the way Margot is continually referred to as “Mrs. Macfadyen” throughout the novel, but that is in the nature of the books. Sadly this book is less easy to obtain than many that have been reprinted by Virago, but for the true Thirkell fan it ties up some loose ends in fine style.
Meanwhile we are recovering from a journey to Sheffield in the pouring rain while the overnight snow stubbornly remained. Northernvicar’s driving skills were frequently tested! I hid in Waterstones while he did good works, and acquired one or two gems. (including the autobiography of ‘Margo’ Durrell, which is very funny). Later today I am doing a talk on my ‘Lifelong Passion’ …for books of course. Here’s hoping I get a few friends to hear me!