Saki’s stories are absolutely marvellous.  They remind me a bit of E. F. Benson in their tone and focus on the foibles of the upper middle class, but unlike Benson (who I always feel has a soft spot for his characters no matter how much he may mock them) Saki is merciless in his approach.  The stories are dry, witty and biting and if they were long enough for the reader to get to know the characters at all it would be easy for them to seem rather cruel, but because they are only brief snapshots the reader is able to laugh without any accompanying feeling of guilt.  They may be a little bizarre and dark at times (‘Sredni Vashtar’ for example is the story of a young boy who has a pet ferret that he turns into a god) but, unlike some of the more modern short stories that I’ve read, they always have a proper narrative arc and so they are very satisfying to read.

Although all the stories are entertaining, my two favourites are ‘Tobermory’ and ‘Mrs Packletide’s Tiger’.  ‘Tobermory’ is about Mr Cornelius Appin, who announces at Lady Blemley’s weekend gathering that he has found a way to teach animals to talk and has successfully taught the cat, Tobermory, to talk.  The guests however are less than impressed when it becomes apparent that Tobermory enjoys exercising his new linguistic talents to reveal all the secrets of the guests at the party to the assembled crowd:

An archangel ecstatically proclaiming the Millennium, and then finding that it clashed unpardonably with Henley and would have to be indefinitely postponed, could hardly have felt more crestfallen than Cornelius Appin at the reception of his wonderful achievement.  (p. 17)

I think this comparison is just brilliant in its bathos.  It conveys how ludicrous the guests’ objections are in the face of such an amazing discovery and how bound they are by social convention.  It makes me chuckle every time I read it.  Saki also gives Tobermory a wonderful voice and personality which conveys a sense of relish at embarrassing and shaming his listeners with the things they say and do behind closed doors.  I only wish it had been a longer tale.

‘Mrs Packletide’s Tiger’ concerns a lady who decides that she wants to shoot a tiger in order to outdo Loona Bimberton who has just flown in a aircraft.  Soon a suitable candidate is found:

Circumstances proved propitious.  Mrs Packletide had offered a thousand rupees for the opportunity of shooting a tiger without overmuch risk or exertion, and it so happened that a neighbouring village could boast of being the favoured rendezvous of an animal of respectable antecedents, which had been driven by the increasing infirmities of age to abandon gamekilling and confine its appetite to the smaller domestic animals.  The prospect of earning the thousand rupees had stimulated the sporting and commercial instinct of the villagers; children were posted night and day on the outskirts of the local jungle to head the tiger back in the unlikely event of his attempting to roam away to fresh hunting-grounds, and the cheaper kinds of goats were left about with elaborate carelessness to keep him satisfied with his present quarters.  The one great anxiety was lest he should die of old age before the date appointed for the memsahib’s shoot.  Mothers carrying their babies home through the jungle after the day’s work in the fields hushed their singing lest they might curtail the restful sleep of the venerable herd-robber. (p. 22)

It seems so ridiculous, and yet the task proves much trickier than Mrs Packletide anticipates with humorous results.

It seems that a lot of people have been reading Saki recently, and before writing my review today was treated to reviews from Simon of  Stuck in  Book, Lyn of I prefer Reading and Hayley of Desperate Reader who’ve all been reading Saki’s The Unbearable Bassington. After reading these, I’m now looking forward to reading more Saki even more than I was after reading this short story collection.  What a lovely introduction!

Filboid Studge, the Story of a Mouse That Helped by Saki.  Published by Penguin, 2011, pp. 66.  Originally published in 1911 and 1914.

As the title suggests, the book is a fictionalised diary of fifteen months in the life of an ordinary man .  Mr Charles Pooter is a middle class man, living in a typical London suburb, who works at a bank.  As he goes about his daily life, his aspirations are constantly frustrated by his troubles with his workmates, his layabout son, the tradespeople and the blasted scraper outside his door.

The aspect of this book that I enjoyed best was definitely Mr Pooter himself.  In spite of his pompous manner, his ineffectual nature, his jokes that fall flat and his highly inflated opinion of himself, I found him somehow endearing.  I rarely sympathised with him, he often frustrated me, but I liked him nonetheless.  His ill-advised notions (perhaps most delightfully deciding to paint everything with red enamel paint, leading to a rather bloody-looking bath after it dissolves in the hot water) often had me giggling.  His constantly frustrated narration is rather entertaining:

By-the-by, I will never choose another cloth pattern at night.  I ordered a new suit of dittos for the garden at Edwards’, and chose the pattern by gaslight, and they seemed to be a quiet pepper-and-salt mixture with white stripes down. They came home this morning, and, to my horror, I found it was quite a flash-looking suit.  There was a lot of green with bright yellow-coloured stripes.

I tried on the coat, and was annoyed to find Carrie giggling.  She said: “What mixture did you say you asked for?”

I said: “A quiet pepper-and-salt.”

Carrie said: “Well, it looks more like mustard, if you want to know the truth.”

How interesting that the Victorians evidently said “pepper and salt” instead of “salt and pepper” as I always hear it nowadays.  The things you learn from books.

I also appreciated the fact that not every entry was intended to be funny, which made it feel more like a real diary, with someone just recording the mundane things that had happened that day.  Often these entries provided build up to an amusing anecdote, but it nonetheless adds a flavour of realism to an otherwise comic novel.

Diary of a Nobody by George Grossmith, illustrated by Weedon Grossmith.  Published by Pan, 1947, pp. 171.  Originally published in 1892

As the title suggests, in Lucia in London Lucia and Pepino inherit a house in London after his aunt dies.  Despite all her protestations of finding London  dull and unimaginative compared to Riseholme, it doesn’t take Lucia long to abandon the quiet village and move up to town where she is soon unashamedly engaged in worming her way into London society, assuming familiarity on the slightest of acquaintances and inviting herself to other people’s dinner parties.   However, Riseholme does not take kindly to being snubbed and retaliates with a flurry of activity in which Lucia is decidedly not involved.  Unused to such independence on behalf of her subjects, Lucia must try to maintain her soveriegnty in Riseholme while battling her way to the top in London.

I think the reason that I enjoyed this book so much more than the first one, despite it being much the same to all intents and purposes, is the fact that it is the second book.  A great deal of the fun and enjoyment of the Lucia books comes from knowing the characters and being able to predict exactly how they will behave in any given situation, then laughing at the inevitability of it all, and this sort of familiarity really needs more than one three hundred page book to be developed.  Like Olga and her friends in Lucia in London, I have become a Luciaphil, and thoroughly enjoy watching Benson engineer situations in which I know Lucia will behave in a rude, crass manner and equally I know that everyone else will pretend not to notice because a. they’re too polite and b. they’re having just as much fun observing Lucia brazen out awkward social situations as I am.  This obvious awareness of the silliness of events but genuine delight in them nonetheless is what makes this book so particularly enjoyable.

I think my favourite incident in Lucia in London involves Lucia deciding to pretend to take a lover, having come to the conclusion that affairs are very fashionable following a celebrated divorce case.  However, because she cannot explain that she is going to pretend to be in love to the object of her feigned affections, because this would defeat the object:

But caution was necessary in the first steps, for it would be hard to explain to Stephen what the proposed relationship was, and she could not imagine herself saying ‘We are going to pretend to be lovers, but we aren’t’.  It would be quite dreadful if he misunderstood, and unexpectedly imprinted on her lips or even her hand a hot lascivious kiss, but up till now he certainly had not shown the smallest desire to do anything of the sort.  She would never be able to see him again if he did that, and the world would probably say that he had dropped her.  But she knew she couldn’t explain the proposed position to him and he would have to guess: she could only give hime a lead and must trust to his intelligence, and to the absence in him of any unsuspected amorous proclivites.  She would begin gently, anyhow, and have him to dinner every day that she was at home.  And really it would be very pleasant for him, for she was entertaining a great deal during this next week or two, and if he only did not yeild to one of those rash and turbulent impulses of the male, all would be well.  (p. 170)

Of course, Stephen is about as interested in women as Lucia’s former attendant Georgie, and so hilarity ensues as they each misconstrue the other’s actions.

Although much of the action takes place in London, Riseholme is not neglected.  I loved watching them scheming indignantly following Lucia’s mocking of Riseholme and the spread of gossip is a wonder to behold.  I felt like I got to know some of the Riseholmites better in this book, and I’m definitely looking forward to spending more time with them in the remaining four Lucia books.

Lucia in London by E. F. Benson.  Published by Black Swan, 1986, pp. 266.  Originally published in 1927.

The Rivals is a comedy of manners which centres around the tangled love lives of its cast.  Captain Jack Absolute has disguised himself as a lowly ensign going by the name of Beverley in order to woo Lydia Languish who, perversely, finds the idea of eloping with a poor man far more romantic than that of marrying a wealthy heir.  She is also being courted by Bob Acres, who has no idea that his friend Jack is in fact his hated rival Beverley, and by Sir Lucius O’Trigger, whose letters of love the servant delivers to Mrs Malaprop, Lydia’s guardian, instead of the lady herself.  The matter is further complicated when Sir Anthony Absolute arranges with Mrs Malaprop for Jack himself to marry Lydia.  The play follows these characters as they cluelessly attempt to work out these increasingly awkward situations.

The Rivals proved to be a most enjoyable, highly entertaining play.  My experience of going to see plays is somewhat limited (almost exclusively Shakespeare) so it made a very pleasant change to read and watch a play for which I didn’t need footnotes to understand the jokes and allusions.  It was still clever and witty, but it was essentially a situation comedy and so the humour was less word based and a lot less obscure than I’m used to.  In fact, I didn’t need to have read the play at all as it was perfectly easy to understand what was going on and to take delight in the confusion on stage without being confused yourself without any prior knowledge of the plot.  I always feel a bit guilty dragging the Old English Thorn along to plays as I know I enjoy them far more than he does, on the whole, but he sat next to be laughing uproariously the whole way through.

Of course, the fabulous cast definitely helped.  Penelope Keith made a great Mrs Malaprop, pulling off her many amusing lines full of confused words with aplomb and managing to be simultaneously rather haughty and yet still warm and like able.  Peter Bowles played alongside her as a stern but jovial Sir Anthony Absolute and the two made a brilliant pair.  By far my favourite characters were two of the more minor ones though: Bob Acres made me laugh every time he opened his mouth and Faulkland’s perpetual gloom was just brilliant.  The scene in which the two of them discuss Julia, Falkland’s bride to be, was a great piece of comedy and, like the rest of the play, thoroughly enjoyable.

Because this play is enjoyable and lighthearted, I don’t think I gained much from the separate experience of reading The Rivals, unlike a Shakespeare play where I feel that when I read the script I notice so many subtle tricks of brilliance that are lost in the general performance when I see the play acted out.  I’m sure that I still missed lots of clever things which would be obvious to someone who has studied the play, but for once it was really great to see a play without analysing it and to just enjoy it for what it is: a witty piece of entertainment.

The Rivals by Richard Brinsley Sheridan.  Published by New Mermaids, 1995, pp. 125.  Originally published in 1775.

“Oh, if you like those books, then you really should read the Mapp and Lucia books,” said the lovely man at the Winchester book stall, eyeing the pile of books in my arms.  I thanked him, paid for my stack of books and promptly hunted down the series, which conveniently turned up in my local charity shops all in the same lovely Black Swan editions, the cover images of which are just perfect for the books.  All, of course, except the first one which I couldn’t find anywhere.  Typical.  Eventually I gave in and ordered the first book from Amazon Marketplace and it arrived just before Christmas but I saved it as I thought that, with its comic tone and lightheartedness, it would be a great book to keep me sane through the first few days of going back to work in the new year.

Queen Lucia introduces the village of Riseholme, its inhabitants and, most importantly, Lucia Lucas who presides over Riseholme’s social scene as benevolent dictator.  In this first installment in the series, Lucia’s unspoken sovreignty comes under threat from an Indian guru, a Russian medium and a celebrated opera singer and we see how she deals with these attempts, whether intentional or not, to go against the status quo.

The appeal of Queen Lucia is explained rather well by Olga Bracely:

‘Oh, it’s all so delicious!’ she said.  ‘I never knew before how terribly interesting little thingswere.  It’s all wildly exciting, and there are fifty things going on just as exciting.  Is it all of you who take such a tremendous interest in them that makes them so absorbing, or is it that they are absorbing in themselves and ordinary dull people, not Riseholmites, don’t see how exciting they are?  (pp. 258-259)

It is a novel about little things that happen and are only made interesting by the way in which the entertaining cast of characters treat them.

Lucia reminded me of no one so much as Mrs Elton from Jane Austen’s Emma: she is shallow, snobbish, pretentious and completely convinced of her own importance.  In other words, she should be a rather unpleasant character but is absolutely delicious to read about as she lords it over her friends.  The only facet of her character which I didn’t particularly enjoy was her fondness for baby talk with the men in her life; self-importance and snobbery, while irritating traits in real life, can be made great fun to read about, but adults trying to sound like infants is something that I will always find annoying.

Riseholme’s other inhabitants are equally as obsessed with social climbing, though in different ways.  I enjoyed Daisy’s futile attempts to usurp Lucia’s prominence by launching the latest trend before Lucia can pick up on it and annex Daisy’s latest discovery, something which always ends in disaster.  Georgie’s delight at having a secret from Lucia which gives him some sort of power over her is amusing and infectious as the reader spends more time with him than with Lucia.  Although Benson’s writing is sharp and biting, it was without any particular malice.  I felt that, although he mocks these silly social situations he also loves them and thrives on them, and that he would be behaving exactly the same as the other villagers if he were to live in Riseholme and would love every minute of it.  He certainly has great fun writing about them.

To continue the Jane Austen comparison, there were times when this book felt like it needed a Mr Knightley.  It has the intrigue of people being manoeuvred into relationships, the fast-fading fashions for particular activities and the carefully considered, smiling social warfare between the characters, but I would have liked to see someone with sense and morality who wasn’t taken in by all of this nonsense to provide some much needed contrast.  While I know it’s a light, humorous novel and I enjoyed it for what it is, it felt a bit relentlessly shallow and breezy at times and I would have preferred an occasional change of tone.  Hermy and Ursy, Georgie’s irrepressibly robust sisters, would have done this perfectly but they remained fairly marginal characters in this first book.  I hope to see more of them in future volumes as I would love to see someone practical tell Riseholme to stop being so ridiculous.  Nevertheless, it is an enjoyable ridiculousness (ridiculousity?  I think I prefer ridiculousity) and I look forward to continuing the series.

Queen Lucia by E. F. Benson.  Published by Black Swan, 1986, pp. 266.  Originally published in 1920.

Title:

Author: John Julius Norwich.  Illustrated by Quentin Blake

Published: Doubleday, 1998, pp. 38.  First edition

Genre: Humour

Blurb: Everyone knows ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’, but not as rewritten by John Julius Norwich in this delightful correspondence, which records the daily thank-you letters from one increasingly bemused young lady to her unseen admirer.  And who but Quentin Blake could exploit the full comic possibilities of this hilarious debacle as first birds, then maids and finally the full percussion section of the Liverpool Philharmonic create mayhem in the calm of an English country Christmas?

When, where and why: The problem with receiving Christmas themed books for Christmas is that they’re already out of season by the time I’m ready to start reading them, and that was the sad fate of this book.  I decided it would be the perfect way to round off my evening of Christmas reading.  It counts as book 37/50 for my Books Off the Shelf Challenge.

What I thought: This is absolutely my favourite festive book ever.  I’m sure I can’t be the only person who has ever thought how inconvenient the gifts in the song ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’ would actually be to receive.  In fact, with the exception of the five gold rings, I would be thoroughly peeved if my true love gave me any of those things.  In this marvellous little book, John Julius Norwich takes the song to its logical conclusion and, in a series of increasingly frosty letters from Emily to her true love Edward, examines exactly how someone might react if they were to receive nine ladies dancing:

2nd January

Look here, Edward, this has gone far enough.  You say you’re sending me nine ladies dancing; all I can say is that judging from the way they dance, they’re certainly not ladies.  The village just isn’t accustomed to seeing a regiment of shameless hussies with nothing on but their lipstick cavorting round the green — and it’s Mummy and I who get blamed.  If you value our friendship — which I do less and less — kindly stop this ridiculous behaviour at once.

Emily

The style of the letters is wonderful, and the subtly nuanced changes of vocabulary and tone as Emily becomes more and more disenchanted with her admirer’s gifts are very well executed.  I particularly like the way that the way she opens and closes her letters becomes gradually more curt and formal.

Quentin Blake’s illustrations really make this book, as far as I’m concerned.  Both Emily and the partridge, the first innocuous gift, look increasingly perturbed as the book progresses, and the pictures further on in the book as more gifts arrive are positively exuberant.  They manage to make the scenes seem noisy and chaotic even though they are static.  This is the perfect book to read when you’re in need of a good chuckle, particularly in the days after Christmas when realities like work and buying a new railcard (they’re going up again, surprise surprise) start to come back into your mind.

Where this book goes: This book isn’t going anywhere.  It’s staying on my shelves to be read again, year after year.

Tea talk: I finished off my pot of English Afternoon with this book.  All in all, a very satisfying experience.

Title:

Author: Julie and John Hope.  Illustrated by Sue Hellard

Published: Bantam, 2000, pp. 32.  First edition

Genre: Humour poetry

Blurb: This is a collection of limericks featuring cats and their antics, beautifully illustrated by Sue Hellard. You can learn your cat’s views on life—from why they lust hungrily after your pet canary to the art of turning your home into complete shambles.  (Goodreads.com)

When, where and why: This was another stocking present some years ago.  I’ve dipped into it before but never read it properly, so it counts as book 36/50 for my Books Off the Shelf Challenge.

What I thought: Christmas Crackers for Cats is an entertaining collection of limericks, with one longer poem in the style of Hilaire Belloc’s Cautionary Tales.  It is once again filled with the lovely comic illustrations of Sue Hellard which help to augment the humour, and is an amusing swift read.  Despite the title, the contents are not festive at all, so it could be read and enjoyed at any time of year.  I think that this was my favourite limerick:

A raunchy old tomcat called Bertie

Had a mind that was ever so dirty

Now his goolies have gone

He’s just one peeping Tom

So all he can do is get flirty.

This is of course accompanied by a picture of a lascivious looking cat enthusiastically assaulting a cushion.  I wish I could share some of these illustrations, but sadly I lack both camera and scanner (I’ll have to see what I can do about this in the new year).

However, unlike Christmas Carols for Cats, this book suffers a bit from being read cover to cover as the limericks, while entertaining, start to sound a little repetitive after the fifth one.  I would still recommend this book, but it’s definitely one to dip into rather than read straight through in one sitting.

Where this book goes: I’m putting this one back on the shelf next to Christmas Carols for Cats for whenever I feel like reading an amusing limerick.

Tea talk: I read this book while enjoying the same large pot of English Afternoon Tea.

Title:

Author: Julie and John Hope.  Illustrated by Sue Hellard

Published: Bantam Books, 1998, pp. 29.  Originally published 1996

Genre: Humour poetry

Blurb: A witty, charming treasury of traditional Christmas carols -rewritten by cats for cats – includes such classics as “The Twelve Days of Catmas,” “We Wish for the Fam’ly Goldfish,” and “Bark! The Hairy Scary Things.”  (Goodreads.com)

When, where and why: I was given this book by Father Christmas in my stocking several years ago.  I felt the need for something light, festive and amusing to read, so this seemed the ideal book to pick up before bed.  It counts as book 35/50 for my Books Off the Shelf Challenge.

What I thought: Christmas Carols for Cats is great fun.  It features twelve well-known Christmas songs and carols rewritten so that the centre around cats (as all things in life should, I feel).  The adaptations are clever and witty and they scan so well that I found myself humming them under my breath as I read the book.  There are a few contributions which don’t work quite as well, in my opinion, such as ‘Collar Bells’ which is set, unsurprisingly, to the tune of  ‘Jingle Bells’, but I found something to enjoy in every single song.  The illustrations by Sue Hellard which accompany the carols are perfect, bringing out the humour of the words and enhancing it through their appealing depictions.

One of my favourite songs in the book is ‘The First Slow Yell’ to the tune of ‘The First Noel’, something which will be familiar to all owners of hungry cats:

The first slow yell for you as you lay

Asleep in the morning on Christmas Day

O do not snore please get out of bed

It’s seven o’clock and I haven’t been fed.

O Yell O Yell O Yell O Yell

Feed me at once or I’ll make your life hell.

To lay a-bed is an awful disgrace

Get up right now or I’ll sit on your face

My furry paw ‘neath the covers will crawl

Fill up my bowl or I’ll caterwaul.

O Yell O Yell O Yell O Yell

Feed me at once or I’ll make your life hell.

Your last big chance now give us a break

I’ve clawed at your nightshirt you should be awake

I’ll niggle and naggle, be ever so rude

For nothing else matters when I want my food.

This would definitely be the perfect Christmas gift for any cat owner or cat lover.

Where this book goes: I’m going to hang on to this book to read again at future Christmas times.  It’s a good, quick read, great for sharing with others and guaranteed to make me smile.  What more could anyone want at Christmas?

Tea talk: I indulged in a whole pot of English Afternoon Tea from St James’ while reading this book and a few other little Christmas books which will be reviewed shortly.  It was rich and mellow and just what I wanted.