Dave's Book Blog: "The Present and the Past" by Ivy Compton-Burnett

Friday, 29 November 2024

"The Present and the Past" by Ivy Compton-Burnett

Flavia is the second wife of Cassius Clare and has done her best to bring up the two boys of his first wife as if they were her own, equal - except in that they are older - with her own three children. But this harmony is disturbed when Catherine, the first Mrs Clare turns asking for access to her sons. But it is the paterfamilias who has most to lose.

We are in classic ICB territory. The setting is a big house inhabited by a family supported by an independent income with no need to work and served by at least seven servants. The head of the household, Cassius, is a typical ICB domestic tyrant: demanding, self-pitying and manipulative.

The form is more or less what we would expect from ICB. It isn't in the least naturalistic. The plot is fast-paced, twisty and not very convincing. Plot devices, such as Mr Clare’s pills, are introduced just before they are needed. Unusually for an ICB book, there are paragraphs of description, such as: “Alfred Ainger was a tall, active man of forty, with a round, yellow head, a full, high-coloured face, very blue, bunched-up eyes, an unshapely nose and a red-lipped, elaborate mouth that opened and shut with a vigorous movement. His bearing carried an equal respect for his master and confidence in himself.” (Ch 2) But most of the narrative is carried by stiffly formal dialogue in which every character speaks aloud fully-formed thoughts. This allows the author to develop the characters while at the same time exploring the situation. She particularly enjoys questioning unthinking turns of phrase. For example, when an adult says, about the father, “He is devoted to you in his way.” one of the children replies: “I dare say a cat does the right thing to a mouse in its way.” (Ch 1) Or when Cassius tells his son: “It would do you good to have to face some real trouble.” and Henry (aged 8!) replies: “You know it would do us harm.” (Ch 1)

The servants form an echoing chorus, commenting upon the values held by the family from their perspective of dependent upon and yet essential to their masters if not betters. Some, like butler Ainger, value their albeit lowly place in the hierarchy. Others, like Halliday, who has been in service for nearly fifty years and never risen beyond ‘general man’, have reluctantly accepted their position. Still others, such as the Cook, maintain a core of anger that the idle family should be so much better off than they are. Why should the master attempt suicide? There is “no reason but discontent with a life that is better than ours.” (Ch 11)

But the real truth-telling is done by the children, especially Megan (aged 7) and Henry (8). Their comments are honest and direct and dissect the easy assumptions of the adults:

“What is the good of knowing things, when you have to get older and older and die before you know everything?” (Ch 1)
“It seems a pity ... that when two women agreed to marry Father, he did not like being married to either of them.” (Ch 3)
“I don't think there is much to understand about Father ... When he is unhappy himself, he wants other people to be.” (Ch 3)

Of course, these are unbelievably precocious but that is not the point. As I have already mentioned, ICB is not aiming at naturalism. And three-year-old Toby's dialogue is a delight: everything is referred to himself and he takes a simple pleasure in smashing things. After he presides over a funeral service for a mole, it is predicted he will become a parson.

I can understand why people might not enjoy reading an ICB novel. It isn't just that they are set in a world that has long since passed. The mannered style is Brechtian, alienating the reader so that suspension of disbelief and immersion in the story becomes impossible. The narrative is so densely told that you have to concentrate; a passage skimmed is a passage you will have to reread. Nevertheless, characters are created, family dynamics are explored and, believe it or not, considerable humour is extracted. I find them enjoyable and impressive and, along with nouveua roman French novelist Natalie Sarraute (author of Tropismes), I can't understand why ICB's work was undersung in her own time and why she is practically forgotten today.

Selected quotes:

“They loved her not as themselves, but as the person who served their love of themselves, and greater love has no child than this.” (Ch 1)
“Our religion is a gloomy one. There are other and happier creeds.” (Ch 1)
“I wanted to marry. Many women do. I wanted to have children. Many women want that too. And why should they not want it? And Cassius offered it to me. Does it need to be so much explained?” (Ch 5)
“You are too busy admiring yourself to have any admiration left over.” (Ch 6)

November 2024; 171 pages