Vere Hodgson’s Few Eggs and No Oranges: 1940-45
Persephone No. 9 (1999)
Ironically, it was not a book — Persephone or otherwise — that settled my debate about which Persephones to read for Persephone week.
It was the combination of my having responded so strongly to Pat Barker’s Regeneration series earlier this year with my spotting a set of films at my local shop.
(Well, there are literally hundreds of books lying around here unread: it’s bound to be a little bit mysterious as to why some are catapulted to the top of the reading list whilst others languish.)
But in this case those two events cemented my interest in reading about the second world war on Persephone pages for this week.
Hodgson’s Diary was amongst the first bunch of Persephones that I purchased (Persephones should always come in bunches, no?), 8 or 9 years ago. When it arrived, I was surprised by its size though happily so. But then something happened. And my bookmark (beautifully coordinated of course: all bookmarks should be coordinated, no?) got stuck.
I think it was somewhere in 1941, but I don’t remember exactly because I became renewedly interested in my collection when a friend of mine added some new titles to my Persephone shelves last year and I plucked that bookmark out once more and started to read again from the beginning. I read the preface and got stuck in the process of making the decision about whether to read on. (So apparently it’s possible to get stuck in a book when you’re not even really reading it.)
But I still wanted to get un-stuck, so when I started thinking seriously about Persephone Week, Few Eggs and No Oranges was at the top of my list. And I am so glad that I persevered.
Of course there were tragic bits, like this:
“I cannot bear to listen to the News. There is nothing in it. We bomb them…they bomb us. That is all. Life is a miserable affair.”
October 3, 1940
“Dreadful to read about Leningrad. Just as I thought — all gas and electricity gone; they are cooking on brazers in the street. Every day it gets worse, and the only end is The End — with the Germans marching in because we cannot help them.”
September 24, 1941
But there were also hopeful bits, like this:
“Went to the Zoo to book tea for my next party of Mothers and children on June 19th. The Old Pole is open on Sunday, so explained my plan of action. He found me some aged radishes and lettuce and with his compliments to the animals he gave me extra [so that she could feed the yak and the panda].”
June 6, 1943
[For a companion read on WWII and zoos and resistance, you might like to be Buried In Print with Diane Ackerman’s The Zookeeper’s Wife (2007).]
“Amazing to see the patience of the women in the Cat Food Queue. It was snowing. They were loaded with heavy shopping bags, and then came a long wait for food for the cat! But they seemed amazingly cheerful. They waited for Pussy’s dinner with the same good humour they had waited for their own.”
February 8, 1942
And there were mixed bits, like this:
“Queen Charlotte’s Hospital is uninhabitable. It must have had a very bad time, though the walls seemed to be standing. Got bus to Notting Hill. Sat by the fire and read the Ranee of Sarawak’s biography. Cannot think why she had such awful daughters. Barishnikov came to tea. Ran down to do the black-out. Guns began. Hope Miss M. gets back from Oxford tonight. We have not had a Warning all day today…A record!”
November 10, 1940
Passages like that brought back my recent reading of the Orange-Prize nominated novel Small Wars, which also considers the bizarre dichotomy of everyday life (say, children with fevers) intersecting with acts of wartime violence (say, nighttime bombings).
Thus we sit at home and take part in a battle simultaneously. We are pegging on slowly — a case of biting off a morsel at a time.
July 17, 1944
One of the things that brought Sadie Jones’ characters relief were evening dramatic readings (a scene surrounding one of Shakespeare’s plays figures prominently) and literature also provided Vere Hodgson with some relief; tomorrow I’ll include some quotes from her diaries on that subject. I’ll also have more to say about her diaries later this week, when I consider two other Persephone wartime accounts.
It has been absolutely fascinating immersing myself in this era for Persephone Week. Many thanks to Verity and Claire for hosting!
Claire – The Serendipitous Reader … an apropos blog name perhaps, but one which would require careful attention to spelling with every key stroke.
Nymeth – You would probably choose completely different excerpts: there are so many good bits to choose from.
Iliana – What better excuse than Persephone Week?!
Coops – It’s funny how we expect to settle into a long book as quickly as we settle into a shorter one, isn’t it?
I too found that it took me a while to get into, before I became familiar with the various people mentioned. It is a weighty tome at over 600 pages, but easy to pick up and enjoy in tranches as the mood takes you.
Such a fascinating insight into everyday life from air raids to rationing. It has really made me want to read On the Other Side.
[…] Persephone Reading Week, In Wartime (1) […]
I agree, Persephones should come in bunches. Sadly, it’s been a long time since I got any new ones. This book sounds just wonderful!
This book probably tops my Persephone wishlist at the moment. I love the excerpts you posted.
Much as I love the period, this book has rather intimidated me. Your quotes remind me that I shouldpick it up and work my way through slowly, focusing on the particular moment rather than the whole duration. And for that, thank you!
Thanks, Fleur: I agree, that was the key to my making it through the book on this third try, portioning out the months rather than reading straight through.
The era is fascinating and I do love when serendipity (and reading off on tangents) bring specific books to the top of the reading pile.
Please link to your review on either mine or Verity’s PRW welcome posts for a chance to entered into our best review/Persephone-related post of the week draw.