My old housemate, and dear friend, Kirsty has three abiding passions: dogs, lexicography, and talking about how great Josephine Tey is. It was she who gave me a copy of Brat Farrar (1949) last year, as part of a lovely package to cheer during lockdown, and I suspect it was me who got my book group to read it. It definitely came up during our discussion of Daphne du Maurier’s brilliant novel The Scapegoat, because the premise is very similar. (In most years, The Scapegoat would have been among my best reads – but 2020 had some truly brilliant reads.)
Brat Farrar is the lead character of the novel – yes, it is a name, and an almost wilfully terrible one. What a bad title! I wonder why she did it? Anyway, he meets a man who tells him he is a doppelganger for a neighbour called Simon Ashby. As it happens, Simon’s twin brother went missing when he was 13, seven years earlier. A suicide note was found, but his body has never been identified – one washed up that was assumed to be him, but it was beyond recognition. So Brat is persuaded to go back and pretend to be the missing Patrick – and, as the older twin by a few minutes, inherit the family wealth. Speaking as an older twin by a few minutes… I wish.
Brat is a nice man, and isn’t particularly swayed by the idea of an inheritance – what really gets him is the idea that he’ll get to work with a whole stableful of premium horses. Brat is an orphan (his name is a corruption of St Bartholomew’s Orphanage) and has made his way in the world through being on a ranch in America. Man, he loves horses almost as much as Josephine Tey thinks the reader loves horses.
It’s an intriguing set up, if one is willing to suspend disbelief, and I always am for some sort of coincidental premise. It’s the less vital parts of the puzzle that left me slightly more incredulous – for instance, Patrick’s family don’t seem that bothered about his return from the dead. They react in the way I might if I saw someone I hadn’t expect to see for another month or two. Patrick’s aunt and guardian, Bea, is a delightful character – wise, kind, very mildly dry – and I loved her, but she is representative of the whole family in her fairly lukewarm response. I suppose one can’t spend half the book with people fainting from surprise, but still. Anyway, they’re all pleased to see him and immediately taken in – except for the twin, Simon, who is rather stand-offish and the last to be convinced that Brat is Patrick.
It’s very interesting to read about, but there isn’t much tension. It suffers from comparison with du Maurier’s The Scapegoat, which is better in many ways but particularly the feeling that everything could crumble at any point. Because we know the truth of his identity from the outset, and never seriously suspect that Brat’s cover will be blown (he has been immaculately coached by the family friend), we aren’t left very gripped. It’s entertaining to read, but bizarrely unsuspenseful for a mystery novelist.
And then, lordy me, the horses. Perhaps the most interesting character is that christened ‘Timber the murder horse’ by my book group – he has killed a man by smacking him into a tree, and his one wish in life is to do it more people. I enjoyed reading about him, and Tey really gets into the limited psyche of a horse. Where I started skimming was at a race or showjumping or something, where there are pages and pages and pages of descriptions of horses and their style and pedigree and all sorts. Just leave horses alone, guys.
Brat Farrar was left me in the strange position of really enjoying reading it, but having piles and piles of caveats. None of those are Tey’s writing style, which is excellent. It’s one of those cases where there is the kernel of a much better book at the heart of a good book. Perhaps that kernel turned into The Scapegoat?
There are several differences from The Scapegoat, however. Tey’s characters (except Simon and perhaps Timber) are all very likable whereas it is hard to really like anyone in The Scapegoat except maybe the mistress whose name I have forgotten), although they were fascinating. And I think Tey’s understated humor (and Brat’s quiet but appealing personality) pulls the story together. It is true that the family is somewhat low key about his return from the dead – I always thought that was meant to be typical British understatement!
I had my book group read both books but there were about 20 years between the two reads so we did not discuss the similarities. Our discussion of the Scapegoat was very animated, although most disliked the ending. Several of my friends were surprised to learn how many books du Daurier wrote besides Rebecca! It always amazes me that one could enjoy a book by an author and not investigate her other work!
Oh yes, Scapegoat wasn’t a direct copy, but close enough that the differences are glaring! And, ha, we are understated but not THAT understated :D
Curiously enough, I’ve just listened to this as an audiobook, read by the marvellous Carole Boyd (or as I prefer to call her, Linda Snell). As a young teenager, I’d longed to be part of that horsey set, and listening to this gave me that odd nostalgia for something I’d never had (I bet there’s a German expression for that). I thought it was a great evocation of post war, upper middle class life; some elements of Tey’s writing are very much of their time (working class women are either comedy charwomen or vicious and vulgar) but I loved Brat himself and the way I found myself on the side of the imposter.
Oh yes, that’s exactly the sort of thing there must be a German term for!
I love horses like I do all animals, but not a riding sense (because I don’t approve of that). And so much as I love Tey, I may well not particularly warm to this one. Which might be why I’ve never read it!!
Yes, being anti horse racing did rather set me up for a fall with this one!
Well, I love Josephine Tey and this is my favourite of her novels. I see what you mean about The Scapegoat, which I also read and loved last year, but it didn’t strike me at the time. There’s probably a sub-genre of books about coming back from apparently dead, though I can’t think any more at the moment. A film called The Return of Martin Guerre has a similar plot. And of course Tey apparently based her story on a real-life impersonation. I’m not a horse lover myself but the horses didn’t bother me – aren’t they rather essential to the plot, something to do with showing the difference in personality between Brat and his supposed twin brother?
Yes, I didn’t mind the horse stuff until the show – which is very long and doesn’t move the plot on at all.
The only other examples I can think of are The Wife of Martin Guerre (same thing as the film you mention, I am assuming!) and Herbert Jenkins’ very silly, very enjoyable The Return of Alfred. In that one, he tells everyone constantly that he isn’t Alfred, and nobody believes him.
I liked this book because I liked Brat. (That’s a sentence, isn’t it?) However, your comment about how the family reacted when he came back made me laugh. I can understand your caveats.
In books with similar premise don’t forget The Ivy Tree by Mary Stewart, which makes reference to Tey and Brat Farrar. At least in the original UK version and the newer Kindle and Audible version. The original US version had some heavy editing.
I greatly preferred The Ivy Tree, and have reread it several times. Doubt I will try Scapegoat – my TBR list is way too large!
Whew! I’m so relieved by your disappointment Simon. I couldn’t get on with this one at all, and was desperately bored with the whole thing. And it was my last major Tey novel to be read, as I had rationed myself having loved all the others. What a disappointment to find the last of one’s rations are spoiled!
LOL “he loves horses almost as much as Josephine Tey thinks the reader loves horses.”
That’s how I know this book is not for me!
“Enjoyed it but with piles of caveats” is kinda how I felt about the Josephine Tey book I read most recently, Miss Pym Disposes. It definitely didn’t engender in me a desire to rush out and read more things by Josephine Tey, and it doesn’t sound like Brat Farrar will have that effect either. :P
Nice review. This one had some coincidences that left me giggling. Still, Tey’s books are usually worth the time and this one was no exception.
I loved Brat Farrar, but probably enjoyed The Ivy Tree more….much more suspense, a book again of its era, very upper middle class….but Mary Stewart writes like a dream anyway, nothing she has written has let me down…read both anyway…..
Perhaps I’m not a discerning reader, but I love Brat Farrar, and am glad I stumbled upon the comments, as I haven’t read The Ivy Tree, but now, of course, I will.