|I forgot to take a photo...|
This one is from here,
where you can buy a copy
Well, I'm afraid it's not as good... That sounds like a very ungrateful way to start a Reading Presently review, so I shall also say that it was a fun read, and just what I wanted for relaxing in the evenings after working away ferociously on my thesis, but it's an idea which doesn't quite get off the ground.
And that idea is a school reunion where each of the six men recounts a story, relating to each course, about... well, I'll let Charles Delamere explain:
"I should enjoy it immensely if we each told our own story. About the woman, the one woman who meant something out of the rut to us. The one each of us remembers most forcefully."The courses are Consomme Paysanne, Sole a la bonne femme, Vol-au-vent, Roast Lamb, Gooseberry fool, and Angels on horseback. Give or take a few accents that I'm too lazy to find. I'll confess, I was already unsure about how things would go when this premise was set up. Surely it would lead to a great deal of disjointedness?
It's essentially a series of short stories, each of which relate all-too-appropriately to the course in question, and each of which recounts a lost love. At one point a character makes a caustic reference to the stereotypical heroes and heroines of an Ethel M. Dell novel, but Essex isn't far behind - her heroes aren't swarthy silent types, but they do all fall into much the same mould as each other. I usually hate the criticism that "He can't write women" or "She can't write men", because it is (usually) silly and reductive, suggesting there are only two types of people - but Essex does seem, in Six Fools and a Fairy, to be under the impression that all men fall in love instantly, are proud, and are quite keen to hop into bed as soon as poss. And throw into that stereotype that they're all generally a bit hopeless. She spends a while delineating her characters at the beginning, but it's pretty impossible to tell the difference between them when they start talking.
Each chapter tells a difference character's story, only occasionally returning to reunion dinner, and since they have only about thirty pages to do, we whip through fairly stereotypical tales of misadventure and the-ones-that-got-away without building the characters up enough for the reader to care. And then the story is over, and we're onto the next. The chapters aren't even structured as anecdotes, but instead are shown through an omniscient narrator. It's all a little bit bewildering and unnecessary.
Mary Essex is certainly an engaging writer, though, and it's easy enough to whip through the chapters. She has that ability to write a page-turner, even if (once turned) one has no particular wish to mull over what one has read. For a novelist renowned chiefly now for romance literature, though, this book - the first of the three I've read which prioritises romance - is surprisingly less interesting than Tea Is So Intoxicating and The Amorous Bicycle, which are about gossipy villagers and amusing incidents. For wit has absented itself from Six Fools and a Fairy, creeping only into the odd line, then slinking out again quickly.
So, diverting enough for a quick read, if one doesn't want to feel at all challenged or invested. But while her other novels made me think she was approaching the middlebrow joys of Richmal Crompton or even E.M. Delafield, had I read Six Fools and a Fairy first, I'd never have bothered with another. Thanks very much for giving me a copy, Jodie, but ultimately I'm not too far from your assessment of it - and I think I'll be passing it on again.