It seems I am a little behind, the 10th of September and I am only just reviewing my final book of August.
The Vet’s Daughter is only the second book by Barbara Comyns that I’ve read, the other being Our Spoons Came from Woolworths, which is a wonderfully quirky, slightly sad little book. Comyns is an interesting writer, her prose is very readable, deceptively simple, yet her stories are visionary and unusual, combining realism and a little surrealism. As a reader one detects a sparkling, lively imagination. Having read the author’s own introduction this Virago edition, I think I can see where this strange slightly out of kilter world comes from.
“I was born in Warwickshire in a house on the banks of the Avon and was one of six children. Our father was a semi-retired managing director of a midland chemical firm. He was an impatient, violent man, alternately spoiling and frightening us. Our mother was many years younger and lived the life of an invalid most of the time. I remember her best lying in a shaded hammock on the lawns, reading and eating cherries, which she was inordinately fond of, or in the winter sitting by the morning-room fire and opening and shutting her hands before the blaze as if to store the heat. Her pet monkey sitting on the fender would be doing the same.”
(Barbara Comyns in her introduction to The Vet’s Daughter 1980)
I loved the opening of the novel, which serves to pull the reader immediately into the world of Alice Rowlands, our unforgettable narrator.
“A man with small eyes and ginger moustache came and spoke to me when I was thinking of something else. Together we walked down a street that was lined with privet hedges. He told me his wife belonged to the Plymouth Brethren, and I said I was sorry because that is what he seemed to need of me to say and I saw he was a poor broken down creature. If he had been a horse, he would have most likely worn knee caps. We came to a great red railway arch that crossed the road like a heavy rainbow; and near this arch there was a vet’s house with a lamp outside. I said, ‘You must excuse me.’ And left this poor man among the privet hedges.”
Alice is of course the vet’s daughter of the title, and her home life is dominated by her father, a cruel bullying man subject to sudden rages of temper. Alice by comparison to her father is a gentle innocent, her mother cowed by her marriage is very sick, and we know immediately she won’t last long, and Alice will be left alone with her unpredictable father. The house has a dark, sinister atmosphere – and when (on page 6) her father sells a sack of furry creatures – brought to him to be destroyed – to a vivisectionist, the reader can be in no doubt about what kind of man Alice’s father is. Alice’s life is lonely, restrictively dull and uneducated. She longs for romance – for a different life away from her father.
“Some day I’ll have a baby with frilly pillows and men much grander than my father will open shop doors to me – both doors at once. Perhaps…”
The only kind person in the vet’s house following Alice’s mother’s death is Mrs Churchill, who works as cook, and with whom Alice spends more and more time. While Alice’s father is away for a few weeks the business of the vet’s surgery is taken care of by Henry Peebles, the first ever man to treat Alice with kindness and consideration. Alice calls him Blinkers to herself, and starts to meet him in secret after her father’s return.
Her father arrived home with a young blonde woman in tow; Rose Fisher – a barmaid from The Trumpet – Mrs Churchill is scandalised by the appearance of a woman she renames ‘the strumpet from the Trumpet.’ Rose claims she will be Mr Rowland’s housekeeper but it seems no one believes that little bit of deception for a second. Rose is an over confident, blowsy young woman, who soon at home at the vet’s house, seeks to re-make young Alice in her own image.
Alice is briefly rescued from her life with her father – by going to live as companion to Henry Peebles’ mother in the countryside. Mrs Peebles is marooned in her own home – terrified of the two servants who run her house to suit their own needs. Alice and Mrs Peebles become friends and Alice is determined to get Henry to dispense with the services of the sinister couple.
“In the night I was awake and floating. As I went up, the blankets fell to the floor. I could feel nothing below me – and nothing above until I came near the ceiling and it was hard to breathe there. I thought “I mustn’t break the gas glove”. I felt it carefully with my hands, and something very light fell in them, and it was the broken mantle. I kept very still up there because I was afraid of breaking other things in that small crowded room; but quite soon, it seemed, I was gently coming down again. I folded my hands over my chest and kept very straight, and floated down to the couch where I’d been lying. I was not afraid, but very calm and peaceful. In the morning I knew it wasn’t a dream because the blankets were still on the floor and I saw the gas mantle was broken and the chalky powder was still on my hands.”
Alice’s world has been one of constant shocks, and during this turmoil Alice has discovered she a has strange ability – levitation – which over the coming months she practises with. It isn’t long before more change comes – this time to Mrs Peebles’ house, and Alice is obliged to return home to her father. When Mr Rowlands and Rose learn about Alice’s strange ability they seek to exploit it. Alice’s destiny leading to an extraordinary, and probably inevitable moment on Clapham Common.
I really loved this novel, and I am certainly determined to read more – I have a copy of Who was Changed and Who was Dead tbr.
Lovely review, Ali. I loved Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead, which is just as stranger and wonderful as this one sounds. I do love Comyns’ oddness!
I think I wasn’t always certain I would like her oddness which is why I seem to have danced around Comyns for so long. Having now read two of her novels I realise that while I am generally quite rooted in domestic realism I am able to step outside it occasionally.
So glad you enjoyed it! Who Was Changed is my favourite of hers, so looking forward to hearing what you think of it – though I think you’ve already covered much of the spectrum of Comyns’ oddness and occasional darkness with the two novels you’ve read.
I’m looking forward to reading Who was Changed now too, I think I now have a good idea of what to expect.
I found this one less engaging than Spoons or Sisters by a River, but she’s always interesting and has an idiosyncratic way with language and subject matter. The levitation in this one is truly weird.
I very much like the sound of Sisters by a River as it sounds like it might be fairly autobiographical. The levitation stuff is weird but works very well too I thought.
I tried to read this last year but didn’t get very far with it, mostly on account of the style which I found too left-field for my tastes. Maybe it just wasn’t the right time for me, it’s a little difficult to tell – timing and mood can be so important when it comes to these things. That said, I’m encouraged by your positive response to this book, so much so that I shall endeavour to give it another chance at some point. Great review as ever, Ali. I always enjoy your posts on these modern classics.
Oh I definitely think mood and timing play a huge part in how we take to books. I hope if you try this one again, you get on better with it.
What a strange story. Sounds like fun to read. 🐧🐧🐧
It’s unusual yes, I enjoyed it. It’s a bit dark to be called fun, though.
I only love A TOUCH OF MISTLETOE–no one ever mentions it–must be out of print.Others too quirky.
Ok I will certainly look out for that one.
It has been a radio drama as well which alerted me to it years ago.
It was on the radio the same time as Stella Gibbons WESTWOOD.Another favourite.
That last sentence from the author’s introduction stopped me in my tracks.It’s so casually mentioned that she has a pet monkey. Not at all what I was expecting
I know! It really gave me the impression that Comyns grew up in a less than conventional household.
I know it’s just a phrase, but somehow the idea of your “dancing around” Barbara Comyns (in a comment) seems particularly delightful. I suppose I did much the same, but then fell hard for her with Sisters by a River and then madly began to collect (but not read too many, as I felt as though there was something magical about each, and I wanted to keep some, so as to know there would likely be a brilliant surprise in each one of them). Now that you’ve started, doesn’t she seem like the kind of writer you could easily binge on, and then wonder what’d happened to that small stack of skinny volumes?
You’re the second person to recommend Sisters by a River, having looked it up I love the sound of it. Sometimes it takes a while for a reader to click with an author. I’m excited to read more Comyns now.
Ali, this book has been on my wantmto read list for a long time! I did read Our Spoons Came From Woolworths and didn’t care for it so was a little suspicious of reading this one but you’ve definitely put it back at the top of my list!
Oh good, that’s a big responsibility, really hope you like it.
She’s odd but rooted in the domestic, a bit like Stevie Smith, I always think. And I love her deadpan voice. This is the darkest apart from The Skin Chairs, I think (shudder).
Even the title of The Skin Chairs sounds dark.
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