What to make of Rebecca West's The Fountain Overflows? A portrait of the Aubrey family in the early years of the twentieth century; a semi-autobiographical, episodic account of life in an impoverished, eccentric household with a brilliant but quite unreliable father, a highly-strung, worn out mother whose own considerable gifts are now directed at bringing out her daughters' talents; a picture of the complicated intersection of innate talent, ambition, self-awareness and hard work; a melodrama, and a commentary on the times. That's a lot for a book to contain, both in terms of volume and of the demands of the material, and Rebecca West is generous and expansive in her handling of it, but it worked for me in its comfortably discursive, soothingly repetitive way, its mix of the everyday and the bizarre (take the almost music hall character of Aunt Lily - and note the reference to the Kent case, subject of Kate Summerscale's The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher which came up the other day - and the poltergeist episode, for example) contributing to its particular charm.
I say 'particular charm' because I find it hard to put my finger on what exactly it is that makes this book work. It, or perhaps I mean Rose, the narrator, is earnest, serious, deep-thinking and large-hearted but at times priggish. The story is a flattish spiral in shape, people and events evolving (mostly) slowly as it goes on, but then the characters are not 'flat' at all but rather intriguing, if contradictory at times. I found it romantic and unique in its view of things and way of expressing that view, clear-sighted and quaint, engaging and frustrating, and I enjoyed it very much indeed.
What did you make of it? Were you urging the senior Aubreys to get a grip? Is its charm down to its 'child's eye view', Rose's attempts to understand a seemingly baffling adult world but with a wisdom beyond her years? Did you find the stress on preparing for a musical career a perfectly reasonable response to the girls' background, upbringing and precarious financial situation, or an almost Tiger Mother-like devotion to duty? As a piece of social history it's fascinating - but was that aspect more compelling than the plot? Have you already gone on to read the other parts of the trilogy, This Real Night and Cousin Rosamund? Do tell us what you think.
Later: 'Books and cakes' for The Fountain Overflows is here.
First, I would like to address one of your questions. When I was reading the book, I did not think "Tiger Mother" at all. It was only when I had gone back and re-read the introduction by Andrea Barrett in my "New York Review of Books Classics" copy that I realized that their mother was indeed a Tiger Mother.
I must admit that I was somewhat put off by a couple of elements of the book. The musical members of the family seemed quite cruel to their poor dear violinist daughter. I think that as a musically-gifted member of the family I would have felt pity or some kind of sympathetic reaction rather than scorn for the talentless one.
And as for the poltergeist episdose, it seemed to come from out of left field. I am wondering if any astute reader might have an insight as to why she included it in the book. (Or was it something she herself experienced?)
All in all, I must say that I cannot remember when I have had such an enjoyable read. I kept forgetting that it was a novel, not a memoir.
As an aside, I want to mention that I read two books over my long holiday weekend, the first one being the aforementioned "The Fountain Overflows". The second was "Gillespie and I", a much-delayed but much-anticipated Christmas book. I can see why you and so many of your readers have mentioned this book. I had really enjoyed "The Observations" so I thought I would like this book but wow, I was "gobsmacked"!
Karen, Thank you for such an enjoyable reading weeekend. After "The Fountain Overflows" I don't think you are going to be able to top the Cornflower Book Group book for 2012!
PS - If I am right you post your CBG book shortly after midnight on Friday nights, your time. It is easy for me to be the first, or one of the first, commenters, as it is not too late on a Friday evening for me.
Posted by: Julie Fredericksen | 25 February 2012 at 05:04 AM
Just finishing the last few pages. I'd never read Rebecca West before, and it took me a little while to get into, but once I did I enjoyed it. Initial thoughts: I agree with Julie, the family were cruel to Mary, but they were very dismissive of anyone who didn't meet their standards of taste, behaviour, education etc. In some ways it reminded me of Barbara Comyns' Sisters by a River, and Who was Dead and Who was Changed, but West lacks Comyns' dark, surreal edge, which is positively macabre in places. I think the similarity was largely to do with the disfunctional families, who have come down in the world,and are living in genteel poverty, but still consider themselves to be a cut above everyone else. But there were stylistic similarities, because all three books are more a series of loosely linked events, without a strong plot and it's difficult at times to see where things are leading. When I've read to the end, and had a think, I'll probably see the book completely differently!
Posted by: ChrisCross53 | 25 February 2012 at 10:17 AM
Thoroughly enjoyed the book. Thank you so much. Observations:
I am reasonably sure that there is a reference to Aunt Lily being in her 30s - extraordinary - 'my feet hurt, they've swelled up like balloons' - in the early 1900s presumably 30 was the 'new 70'!
Cousin Jock is a violent man (the 'poltergeist' scene is the family witnessing a violent man in the house) and further on in to the book Rose touches on the matter that some families 'made up' tales and that curtain poles did fall and that there was malevolent forces in the household that couldn't be attributed to a poltergeist.
The scene when they are in Kew when the father has left is exquisitely drawn - the pain and suffering and heart-break is palpable.
Posted by: Rose | 25 February 2012 at 12:17 PM
Ooops: typo 'malevolent forces were......
Posted by: Rose | 25 February 2012 at 12:18 PM
After quite a lapse from the book group, I decided to get on board with West, and I am delighted that I did! The book reminded me of I Capture The Castle on a far more developed scale, with characters and a narrative voice that captivated me. West created a voice that was completely confident: I found I accepted Rose's judgments, only later questioning them (the poltergeist AND the "poor Mary" points spring to mind) at all. Richard Quin was an intriguing character, too, though I found the father infuriating. I did laugh when it turned out the mother had tricked him over the portraits, however!
I have gone on to read This Real Night, which was so devastatingly sad that I needed a break before considering Cousin Rosamund. As another commenter said, I keep forgetting that it is fictional and only based on West's childhood. What a pleasure to read, Cornflower: I am saving both books to send to my sister once she's moved into her new house and can take the time (and space!) to enjoy them as well!
Posted by: Rebecca | 25 February 2012 at 12:52 PM
I'm glad you liked the book. It's one of my favourites. I think we have to read between the lines to figure out what's really going on in the adult world. I haven't read the sequels as they were published posthumously and I've heard that they are nowhere as good as The Fountain Overflows. I like to imagine for myself how things turned out. :)
Posted by: Violet | 25 February 2012 at 01:06 PM
Another wonderful book by another author I did not know. This is a book I am recommending to my friends. Some are musical, some are not. Yes, it was quite thought-provoking about what is "talent" and who are "arbiters of taste".
It was quite a study of genteel poverty! I recall such things as Harris tweed jackets with holes in the elbows, threadbare Persian stair carpets. I wonder: what would the younger generation give as examples today? Are we going to be seeing more of it now?
I really enjoyed the descriptive bits about the new fountain pen, the motor car that did not have something in front of you to pull it along.
It struck me that this would be the period when my grandmother in Northumberland would have been a young lady. She was from a large family of girls with one boy who was ear-marked to take over the pottery business in Corbridge. Therefore they were middle-class with all the drawing rooms skills being taught to young ladies at that time.
Posted by: Barbara MacLeod | 25 February 2012 at 03:01 PM
Great review and comments. I haven't heard of this book until now.
Ann
Posted by: Ann | 25 February 2012 at 04:38 PM
I'm still not sure what I thought of this one. It was a little different. No, I never thought "Tiger Mom" about the music. It did seem a reasonable thing for the girls that were clearly gifted to pursue since their mother could instruct them for free. There were definitely sections that had me laughing out loud (the section I believed you quoted on an earlier post about "homes for the nonmusical" was one), but then there were parts that were so SAD. I wanted to get ahold of the father and thrash him a few times. As far as the poltergeist - wasn't that a sort of "trend" in this time period? Interest in ghosts, and Egyptian stuff? I can remember early Agatha Christie novels/short stories that had references to things of this nature, and most recently on Downton Abbey the maids trying to "talk to the dead." I think it was a fad in those days (but I am by no means an expert here, this is merely an opinion). The Brontes Go to Woolworths is another book from around the same time period that comes to mind that has ghosts in it. This one definitely held my attention and kept me turning the pages, but I didn't *love* it. I recommended Lady Audley to several people right after I finished it, but this one hasn't prompted the same enthusiasm.
I'm not sorry I read it - as you said, the social history was fascinating, but I'm not sure I'll seek out the sequels (esp. since Rebecca says that the next one is sad).
I always appreciate the discussions, though, and I like to read things I would never have come across otherwise.
Posted by: Susan in TX | 25 February 2012 at 09:11 PM
Like Rebecca, I was also reminded a bit of “I Captured the Castle” while reading “The Fountain Overflows” (insular family, genteel poverty, irresponsible father etc.). I thought it was brilliant book and definitely had more of the feel of a memoir rather than a novel. I found it very compelling despite the lack of plot. I don’t know if I will read the sequels to this book, but I thought I might pick up “The Return of the Soldier”.
The poltergeist and mind reading elements did seem out of place to me. I didn’t feel as if the reader was meant to assume that there was no poltergeist, but just a child’s interpretation of the havoc caused by a violent, unpredictable father (Cousin Jock). I think it was to be taken as true.
I don’t think the whole family was cruel to Cordelia, just Rose. Siblings are like that, even in non-musically gifted families; I can tell you from experience on both the receiving and the giving ends. I thought after finishing the book, how different it would be if it were told from Cordelia’s point of view. I didn’t see the mother as a “Tiger Mom” although I did want to throttle both parents at various points.
Posted by: Ruthiella | 25 February 2012 at 09:41 PM
It was a first for me, I hadn't read anything by Rebecca West before so I didn't know quite what to expect when I started this book. I just struggled with it.
It was interesting to see the world of genteel poverty through the eyes of a child, who seemed so brave and and confindent at the same time, when she was trying to make sense of the world around her. Rose's reaction to the deseration of her father seemed to be so understated, almost like she wasn't really surprised by it. How sad.
I found myself agreeing with Susan from Texas.
Posted by: Anji | 25 February 2012 at 10:09 PM
Well, what a knotty, intriguing book. I found myself torn between admiration for the bursts of technical brilliance and exasperation with most of the characters. I don't know how far the ambivalent attitude I had towards them is an effect which the author actually intended. Take a couple of examples. The first one comes with the caveat that I have no musical education. It relates to Cordelia. Having attended more school concerts than I care to remember I know that of all instruments the violin is the one which sounds the most excruciating if the performer is less than highly competent. At the very least Cordelia must be playing the right notes in the right order! Are we being invited to share Rose's scorn for her, or is the real clue when late in the story she reveals - not surprisingly - how desperate she is to leave the family? The second concerns the Clare-Piers relationship. He walks out on his family and her main feeling, on discovering that he has forced open a hidden safe before fleeing, is relief that he has not gone out into the world penniless! This is tolerance and forgiveness taken to a level which strains credibility.
Posted by: Mr Cornflower | 25 February 2012 at 10:52 PM
I much enjoyed the period setting and wonderful descriptions of e.g. driving in a motor car that kept stopping. However, the tiresomely Patient Grisdelda mother and feckless father irritated me no end, and the whole family was so priggish, snobbish and superior in their genteel poverty, especially the narrator, that I don't feel much inclined to read any of the sequels.
But thank you for suggesting this one, Cornflower. I'm glad to have read it all the same.
Posted by: Susie Vereker | 25 February 2012 at 11:01 PM
Susie: (This is Rebecca stopping back in to see what other people had to say). . . I felt the same frustration at the start, but then I felt the complete confidence that the whole family possessed (okay, call it snobbery!) win me over as well. I could tell they must've been unbearably smug to know, but the narration made me feel like an insider, like one of the club. It was fascinating, especially since I was aware of it. I have known some people who are very strong personalities, and when I'm with them I can think, "Oh, there goes X again, being so very X!", and with that book, West's Aubrey family created the same effect. Intriguing!
The thing I will recommend in the sequel is that we get to spend some lovely time at the pub where Aunt Lily goes to live, and it's wonderful!
Posted by: Rebecca | 25 February 2012 at 11:28 PM
It will be the affectionate writing about Richard Quin that will linger with me. The novel lit up at moments when he appeared. She does capture the adoration that sisters can have for a young brother and such a winning one!!
Piers choosing to give up his latest affair and return to crafting Christmas gifts for his children is another incident which resonated with me. The charismatic and unreliable father was beautifully captured.
In an entirely different vein, I laughed out loud at the birthday party scene and the wonderful trip home in the car.
I have enjoyed the comments of course, and am not sure whether they encourage me to read on in the trilogy. Perhaps after a short rest from the Aubreys.
Posted by: martina | 26 February 2012 at 04:47 AM
Thanks Cornflower for choosing this book, which otherwise would have remained undiscovered. It strongly reminded me of 'I Capture the Castle' and it had many interesting insights into the world of the author. There seemed few male characters with any sympathetic qualities (I confess to finding Richard Quin too sugary). I found a quote that explained this finally - 'There is, of course, no reason for the existence of the male sex except that sometimes one needs help with moving the piano.'
I enjoyed finding out more about Rebecca West herself, which made the book come to life for me, since it seems based on her own experiences to some extent. Something she did not appreciate in her son's writing.
However another quote form her struck a chord with me, and reaches the root of why she wrote and also why I read books like this: 'I write books to find out about things.'
A slightly uncomfortable read then, but an interesting experience. The sequels will remain unread.
Posted by: Sandy | 26 February 2012 at 11:25 AM
New to me and its going on the list!
Posted by: Mystica | 26 February 2012 at 01:49 PM
I was utterly irritated by the collusion of the parents to pretend that the father was so special when he obviously wasn't. It irritated me that the mother went along with this, although I was glad to see that the pictures were original because it showed a sliver of character.
I loved the book, even though it took me a while to get into it. I couldn't put it down and pick it up, I had to read it in big chunks. I have bought the other 2 in the trilogy to read after a little break.
Posted by: Joy Simpson | 27 February 2012 at 07:02 PM
I loved Rebecca West's prose and the descriptions...of the poltergeist, the motor car ride, the gas light, the trip to Kew, Cordelia's concert, etc. I was struck that the novel is dedicated to Rebecca West's oldest sister and wondered if she were the model for Cordelia. I bought the next book In the trilogy to read in a little while and may be inspired to read Black Lamb, Grey Falcon.
Posted by: Susan E | 28 February 2012 at 09:04 PM
So glad you enjoyed both books, Julie, and yes, I do publish the CBG posts just after midnight on the appointed day, and it's nice for me (usually) to have some comments on them to read first thing next morning.
Posted by: Cornflower | 01 March 2012 at 10:09 PM
Yes, it is difficult to see where things are heading, and I kept on waiting for the book to 'get into its stride' until I realised that that was its stride!
Posted by: Cornflower | 01 March 2012 at 10:14 PM
Oh yes, Kew!
Posted by: Cornflower | 01 March 2012 at 10:15 PM
I so agree about the 'confident voice', and I too found Richard Quin delightful and the father's behaviour incredible.
Posted by: Cornflower | 01 March 2012 at 10:19 PM
I imagine it would be a lovely book to re-read, perhaps many times.
Posted by: Cornflower | 01 March 2012 at 10:21 PM
So glad you enjoyed it enough to recommend, Barbara.
I found the musical side of it quite fascinating, and that's a subject not often given that degree of emphasis in novels, particularly ones about childhood.
Posted by: Cornflower | 01 March 2012 at 10:24 PM
I did have hopes for a funnier book (given the likes of that 'homes for bad musicians' line you refer to, Susan, but no - as you say, it is so sad!
Good point about the supernatural element being of the period.
Posted by: Cornflower | 01 March 2012 at 10:28 PM
There's a post on The Return of the Soldier here: http://cornflower.typepad.com/domestic_arts_blog/2007/11/having-read-har.html
Posted by: Cornflower | 01 March 2012 at 10:31 PM
Right, finished it now, and still don't quite know what to think - nowhere near as clear cut as Lady Audley! I enjoyed it when I got into it, but I struggled in places, and was expecting more of a resolution at the end. West is a very clever writer, who highlights the social mores of the period (often humorously - look at the scenes with Miss Beevor and Aunt Lily)and she presents her characters as they are, flaws and all, but I thought some of the minor characters (Miss Beevor and Aunt Lily, again)) were almost caricatures. Sadly, I think my view may have been influenced by the fact that the library copy I read was such a horrid edition - it was large and red and heavy, like a brick, and smelled very nasty, which made the act of reading something of a chore...
I have written about it at http://chriscross-thebooktrunk.blogspot.com/2012/03/book-like-large-smelly-red-brick.html
Posted by: ChrisCross53 | 05 March 2012 at 11:15 AM
I agree, the physical nature of the book can have a bearing on your reading experience!
Posted by: Cornflower | 06 March 2012 at 11:36 AM
Yes, some great passages, and they do carry the reader along, I think.
Posted by: Cornflower | 06 March 2012 at 03:46 PM
Yes, thank goodness for the mother's dissembling over the pictures.
Posted by: Cornflower | 07 March 2012 at 02:24 PM
I'd forgotten that line about the piano, so thankyou for reminding me!
Posted by: Cornflower | 07 March 2012 at 02:29 PM
I did like Richard Quin! You're right about Piers: awe-inspiring at times, utterly feckless at others.
Posted by: Cornflower | 07 March 2012 at 02:32 PM
Perhaps the family were all so used to living 'on the brink' of poverty or of the father disappearing that when it finally happened it was not the shock it might otherwise have been.
Posted by: Cornflower | 07 March 2012 at 02:38 PM