“Thank heaven fasting for a good man’s love.”
(William Shakespeare – As You Like it)
There’s an irony in the title I think – proving that there is much more to this novel by the author of The Provincial Lady than we might at first suspect.
E M Delafield had much to say about society and women’s place within it – that she does so with a light touch, and even with humour is perhaps what makes her such a delight to read. In Thank Heaven Fasting she show us the restrictive absurdity of upper class society in Edwardian England. There is nothing actually to date the setting of this novel precisely; there is no mention of the war, and the attitudes toward society and parental authority seem to place it before WW1. This is a society in which all girls are expected to marry within three seasons of being launched into society, everything in their upbringing and education has been arranged to bring this about.
“Much was said in the days of Monica’s early youth about being good. Life — the section of it that was visible from the angle of Eaton Square — was full of young girls who were all being good. Even a girl who was tiresome and “didn’t get on with her mother” was never anything but good, since opportunities for being anything else were practically non-existent.
One was safeguarded.
One’s religion, one’s mother, one’s maid…. But especially one’s mother.”
Any young woman left unmarried or at least unengaged after her third season is a failure – and so by association is her mother. The years after this third season becoming more and more difficult – with each young woman and her distressed parent having to have just the right excuse ready to defend herself against any implied criticism from curious ‘well-wishers’.
Monica Ingram has been brought up well in Eaton Square she has been protected and cosseted just the right amount – she is obedient and properly educated. Monica knows that she must marry as soon as she can to be a success and she wants to be a success – she wants to marry, to have her own life and to make her parents proud. Anything else is unthinkable. Monica is no protestor to this way of life – she knows nothing else – and the idea of being left on the shelf is terrifying. As the novel opens Monica is about eighteen, she is just about to attend her first ball – her excitement is palpable, after all it’s just possible that she might encounter her future husband at her very first ball.
The ball is being held by Lady Marlowe a friend of Mrs Ingram’s. As she was growing up Monica was forced into a friendship with Lady Marlowe’s two daughters Frederica and Cecily who are a few years older than Monica, with some seasons already behind them, the sisters are already beginning to look like failures and Monica only hopes she can do better. Lady Marlowe has practically given up on her two daughters and is planning to abandon them to her house in the country in her disgust at the close of the present season. This toe-curling exchange between Frederica and her mother Lady Marlowe perfectly showing the pity on one side and the sad, embarrassed desperation on the other.
“‘I don’t want to get married. I hate men. I wouldn’t marry anyone – whoever it was.’
Lady Marlowe gazed at her in astonishment for a moment, and then laughed again.
‘So you’ve reached that stage, have you?’ was all she said.”
These sisters who have spent their whole lives together, are a pitiful pair, Frederica dominating her shy, nervy younger sister, unable to live without each other, and yet caught up in a rather unhealthy dependent relationship. With these characters Delafield reminds us that the fate of the unmarried woman in these days was not at all attractive.
Poor Monica despite knowing all the rules backwards and inside out, has her head turned by the rather caddish Captain Lane. All her life she has had it instilled in her the right way to act around young men, not to show too much favour toward one man, and only to foster friendships with the right sort of man, a man who could be useful – i.e., marriageable. Monica allows Captain Lane to kiss her – and that is enough to almost completley ruin her chances for good with anyone else. For one terrible, wonderful week poor Monica believes herself in love – assuming a proposal is imminent. When it all comes crashing down and her naïve foolishness is exposed she is devastated.
Time moves forward and the second part of the novel is called The Anxious Years – Monica has had her three seasons – she remains unmarried and unengaged. Frederica and Cecily are almost completely exiled to the country. The anxiety of Monica’s unmarried state is felt as much by her mother as it is by Monica herself – the only way she can have a real life, a place in society, a home of her own, children, is to marry. Marriage for young women like Monica is a sanctuary from a far worse, more useless, wasted life. This theme of the necessity of marriage and the fate of women who don’t marry is one Delafield wrote about in her earlier much darker novel Consequences. Thank Heaven Fasting is altogether lighter and wittier – Delafield is sharp though, especially in some of her absolutely pitch perfect dialogue.
Whether Monica gets her happy ending I shall leave you to discover for yourselves – although sadly out of print this is not an impossible novel to find second hand.
Lovely review, Ali. This sounds like a delightful read, just the thing to sink into over a long, lazy weekend. And it’s good to know that there is more to E. M. Delafield than the Provincial Lady sequence of books – Consequences, in particular, sound very different from the norm.
As a slight aside, I’m constantly impressed by your extensive library of green Viragos! Are there many that you don’t have or is your collection pretty complete?
Well Consequences is a darker sadder book, I think this novel and others show many of Delafield’s concerns though with a lighter, wittier tone.
I do have a lot of VMCs but nothing like all of them. There are/were a surprisingly huge number published.
sounds…
It takes great skill to handle such anxiety and potential sadness with a light touch. Such a shame it went out of print.
Yes, I think it does, and Delafield does a good job.
Great post Ali. It seems rather horrific and indeed unthinkable that women should have been so dependent on making a good marriage – thank goodness we’ve moved on from that. Delafield certainly seems to have had plenty of underlying anger about the situation women found themselves in.
Thank you, yes I thought many times during this book (and others I have read) how grateful I am to not have been born in those days.
Gosh I haven’t read this one for decades, maybe a re-read for me in the fullness of time, too!
Ooh yes, definitely worth a re-read.
I love E M Delafield and your review sent me to my own Virago copy to see when I bought it (December 1989) and then I flipped it open – right to the so you’ve got to that stage page. How weird is that? Definitely ripe for a re-read. Thank you.
It’s certainly a book worth re-reading. There are still lots of Delafield I have to read.
This is one of my favorite Delafield novels. Thanks for a great review.
I can see why its a favourite.
This sounds a lovely read, Ali. And a green Virago too!
Yes, it was lovely, and always a pleasure to read my green virago books.
I like the sound of this, and I’ve always wanted to read Delafield.
I highly recommend her, The Provincial Lady books, which are sometimes available as a collected edition is a particular joy.
Thanks! I’ll look out for them.
I’m sure it says more about me than it says about them, but I have trouble remembering which of Delafield’s books I’ve read, other than Provincial Lady. Even though I *believe* this is one I’ve read, I’d have to check my log to be sure. So…I guess I should just start at the beginning and read them all.
I still have quite a lot of her books to read. But I have that exact same problem with other authors.