Tag Archives: Barbara Pym

“I’ve sometimes wondered whether novelists like to be remembered for what they’ve said or because they’ve said it in their own particular way – in their own distinctive voice.”

In 1978, the BBC invited Barbara Pym to be a guest on its program where well-known writers discussed their work. Her views on the “distinctive voice” of a writer was of particular interest: in the 1960s, her publisher declined her … Continue reading

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“Then she leaned over and bit him hard on the cheek.”

Even though this biography of novelist Barbara Pym was picked as a “Best Book of the Year 2021” by the London Times, the Guardian, and the Daily Telegraph, I was initially reluctant to read it. I didn’t want to learn … Continue reading

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“One goes on living in the hopes of seeing another spring,” Daphne said with a rush of emotion.

When the London Review of Books called Barbara Pym “a brilliant comic writer,” they had scenes like this in mind. Here’s how Pym does it: First, emotion is expressed – not by someone beautiful and in love, but by Daphne, … Continue reading

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“For what could be more peculiar than a crowd of grown-up people . . . discussing scholarly niceties that meant nothing to most of the world?”

One of the things that I love about Barbara Pym’s novels is that her characters never set out to impress anyone. They acknowledge that their choices – for example, attending an academic conference as treatment for a broken heart – … Continue reading

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“When his wife had been alive, he had hardly noticed Jessie Morrow; indeed, if possible, he had noticed her even less than he had noticed his wife.”

In a 1978 BBC radio program, Barbara Pym said, “Perhaps I’ve been influenced by something I was once told about Proust – that he was said to go over all his characters and make them worse.” I laughed when I … Continue reading

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“Wasn’t it dreadful? I almost hoped somebody might stand up at the back of the church and forbid the marriage – like in Jane Eyre…”

The vicar’s wife continues, “…and expose John as an imposter. I wanted it to happen, and not only for Ianthe’s good.” Wow! What a confession! The vicar’s wife – who we thought should be friends with Ianthe – disapproved of … Continue reading

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“Let me hasten to add that I am not at all like Jane Eyre, who must have given hope to so many plain women . . .nor have I ever thought of myself as being like her.”

When I read about “the unexpected joy of repeat experiences” during difficult times, I immediately thought of the pleasure I have in rereading novels by Barbara Pym.  Surely one of the ways we can cope with the stress of an … Continue reading

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“The room seemed suddenly very hot and I saw Mrs. Gray’s face rather too close to mine, her eyes wide open and penetrating, her teeth very small and pointed, her skin a smooth apricot colour.”

Why do some novels draw me back year after year, while others – perhaps even more worthy – do not? Maybe, as the NPR commentator noted, returning to books read multiple times is like having a drink with an old … Continue reading

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“The sentences would be like bright juggler’s balls, spinning through the air and being deftly caught and thrown up again.”

Or so Rhoda – the aunt in Barbara Pym’s Less Than Angels — thought would happen when “clever” people came to visit the family.  Instead, however, she found that the visitors’ sentences could be compared to “scrubbing-brushes, dish cloths, knives” … Continue reading

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“I was unable to decide what it was that I found so irritating about her goodness.”

Wilmet, the main character in Barbara Pym’s novel A Glass of Blessings, after spending a frustrating afternoon with do-gooder Mary, observes that wicked people were often much more fun to be with. I believe that if Wilmet were a real … Continue reading

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“It was the kind of question that starts a landslide in the mind.”

What was the question?  Was it profound?  Shocking?  Revealing? Turns out, it’s all of these, and it’s laced with British humor.  The question was, “Do we need a cup of tea?” This comes next: “She sounded puzzled and distressed and I began to realize … Continue reading

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