Small Pleasures – Clare Chambers (2020)

It’s always particularly satisfying when a much hyped novel ends up deserving of its attention. I first heard about Small Pleasures on the first series of the BBC book programme Between the Covers and bought the kindle version on the strength of that – after that, longlisted for the Women’s Prize it seemed to be all over social media. Sometimes, hype puts me off completley, and it nearly put me off this one – eventually I decided to read it while I was in hospital. I am very glad I did.

One thing that really put me off – and it’s a pet hate of mine – is seeing a few reviewers likening it to Barbara Pym – things likened to Barbara Pym are never like Barbara Pym, and why should they be? I really hate being told that something is a must for Elizabeth Taylor fans or is in the tradition of Jane Austen – why can’t a writer just be themselves, why are we looking for them to be someone else? It generally leads to disappointment for the excited reader. There is not one word in this book that reminded me of Barbara Pym, I can’t think of any reason why this novel would remind anyone of Barbara Pym. I can only think its some sort of marketing ploy that gets repeated by lazy early reviewers – sorry but it annoys me. Phew, anyway mini rant over – early prejudice put aside, I gobbled this up in two days – and barring a couple of points I was slightly uncomfortable about I really enjoyed the novel. I can completley understand why it has been so popular.

Kent 1957, Jean Swinney is a features editor for a local newspaper, nearing forty, disappointed in love and living with her irascible, elderly mother. A letter sent to the newspaper sparks her interest. As the only woman at the paper, it falls to Jeans to write the dull household hints section – here though is something she is keen to get her teeth into. A woman named Gretchen Tilbury claims that her ten year old daughter was the result of a virgin birth. Mrs Tilbury is happy to undergo any necessary tests and investigations in order to prove her claim. Originally from Switzerland, Gretchen, is a young woman who has spent many years living in England and is now comfortably married to a jeweller, a man several years older than herself. She agrees to meet Jean and tell her story.

Having met, and heard Gretchen’s story, Jean becomes more and more invested in the Tilbury family, she and Gretchen become friends and Jean loves Gretchen’s daughter Margaret. Gretchen’s story is a compelling one, at the time of Margaret’s conception she was a long term patient in a nursing home, on a ward with three other young women, which she didn’t leave for several months. Jean likes Gretchen and wants to believe her story. Surprisingly, it is Gretchen’s quiet, older, husband Howard, who Jean becomes especially drawn to – his kindness and dry wit surprises and attracts her. She doesn’t mean to fall in love with her friend’s husband – but she does. As Jean spends more and more time with the family, joining them for days out and tennis in the garden – she can almost forget how she became introduced to this family. Her feelings only complicate the situation – the possibility that this is her last chance at finding happiness.

“Having done the right thing was nothing like the consolation she had hoped. Without constant congratulation, virtue was a lonely business. She frequently found herself at her desk, halfway through some task like writing up the week’s Household Hints or Marriage Lines, when she would lose concentration and gaze into space, transported by some memory of Howard’s goodness to her.”

Meanwhile, Gretchen and Margaret are undergoing various tests to try and prove the validity of Gretchen’s startling claim. There are doctors and scientists standing by – keen to find out whether human parthenogenesis has really taken place. This requires Gretchen and Margaret to take several trips to London, where various tests, beginning with simple blood tests and ending with skin grafts (each of them having skin grafted on from the other) will help to prove one way or the other, whether Margaret really could have been conceived without the involvement of a man.

 At home, Jean’s life is narrow and suffocating. Her sister writes, chatty, busy letters from Africa where she lives as part of a large ex-pat community with her husband and children. Over the years Jean’s mother has lost more and more confidence – hardly ever leaving the house – and disliking being on her own in the evenings. Jean’s chances of socialising have become less and less. In her room she has a drawer of small things – unwrapped soaps and small gifts that she can look on with pleasure – taking the chance of kicking off her shoes and smoking two cigarette while her mother is in the bath. Such are the small pleasures in a life. Despite having a career – hers is a small, limited life and she knows it.

“Small pleasures – the first cigarette of the day; a glass of sherry before Sunday lunch; a bar of chocolate parcelled out to last a week; a newly published library book, still pristine and untouched by other hands; the first hyacinths of spring; a neatly folded pile of ironing, smelling of summer; the garden under snow; an impulsive purchase of stationery for her drawer – had been encouragement enough. She wondered how many years – if ever – it would be before the monster of awakened longing was subdued and she could return to placid acceptance of a limited life. The journey into love was so effortless and graceful; the journey out such a long and laboured climb.”

As the investigations into Gretchen’s claims gather pace, Jean begins to get the impression that perhaps there is something in Gretchen’s life she doesn’t know. Her friendship with Howard is growing, and Jean realises that this little family have begun to mean a great deal to her. I really don’t want to say too much more about the plot of this book, as there are too many potential spoilers. There were a couple of points I felt mildly uncomfortable about – that may be me being oversensitive – but I can’t really discuss those either – one of them I definitely can’t discuss.

Small Pleasures is well written and thoroughly compelling – Clare Chambers portrays 1950s life, its limitations, and suffocations perfectly.