Ivy Compton-Burnett didn’t publish a book in 1965 – indeed, she didn’t publish one after 1963, except posthumously – but that’s no reason why I can’t find a way to sneak her into the 1965 Club. Because thankfully Charles Burkhart published a book all about her in that year. He seems to have written several books about ICB, and who can blame him, but this one is stridently called I. Compton-Burnett. (Incidentally, he is not the musicologist, so far as I can tell.)
This book is low on pages (about 130), but each is jam-packed with text, so it’s not quite as short as it initially seems. In it, Burkhart attempts an overview of all of ICB’s writing, identifying the main characteristics of it and, fairly often, defending her against prevailing opinion. His expertise in her work is quite dizzying, and it makes for a very satisfying inquiry – even if I did have to skim past quite a bit, having still got nine of her books to read,
The opening is of especial interest for the 1965 Club, as it attempts to set the literary scene. While asking why she is so well-reviewed and so little read, Burkhart also makes a few comments about the state of 1965:
Advertising is one of the typical arts of our age; and since it is a noisy age, there is a sustained shout of superlatives for every new product, whether of the literary imagination or the soap manufacturer. On the dust jackets of their books, all writers are praised; because the ‘soft sell’ has not yet reached the publishing world, the same tired troop (“remarkable”, “powerful”, “stirring”, and so on) are deployed for every first novel about sensitive adolescence, every raw and wriggling specimen of neo-romantic neo-brutalism. The babble of adjectives is sustained at such intensity, especially in America, that it tends to move right out of the range of human hearing. It is charity to suppose that this was the intention.
Every age considers itself frighteningly modern, of course, and these censures have only increased. But what is interesting is his identification of her novels as portraying the ‘eccentric family’, and doing so eccentrically – and seeing how eccentricity is considered by the critics and the masses. It is a very intelligent and well-judged exploration that makes no assumptions.
He goes on to consider the archetypal plots of ICB novels – tyrants, secrets, secrets being revealed, neighbours prying etc. – but is quick to say that they are not all the same, and nor are all the characters or their dialogue amorphous. I have been guilty of saying that her novels are all alike, but Burkhart is correct. Compton-Burnett’s signature is always clear, but the characters are almost always fully-formed, and the dialogue filled with individual traits. They perhaps all have the same unworldly register, but retain their own idiolects nonetheless. As he points out, in disputing the idea that her characters are characterless, the reader is never in any doubt about what any one character thinks about any other. Considering her households are always filled with many people (often around 20), this is extremely impressive. He also quotes Frank Kermode, who describe how conversations progress in ICB’s novels perfectly: “by exploiting in each remark unobvious logical and syntactical implications in the previous one”.
After looking at various themes (religion, ethos, money etc.), the final chapter looks at each novel in turn – assessing their quality, highlighting their successes, and reminding me of which I have or haven’t read.
I. Compton-Burnett is certainly not an introduction to that author – it only really works if you’ve read a substantial number of her novels already, and perhaps is only truly for the person who has read everything ICB wrote. But I loved it. Such an indulgence to read somebody who appreciates ICB as much as I do, and knows her work far more intimately. How I agree with him when he says “in comparison with her writing[,] most other modern writing seems unfinished, its aim diffuse and its style impure”. I’m not sure he answers the question that you might be able to make out in the photo above – Burkhart makes no grand conclusions about ICB’s greatness or the likelihood of her longevity. Judging by the fact that she is completely out of print in the UK (I think), it’s not looking good for her posterity in 2065 – but she has her devoted audience still, and this book would be a welcome addition to any of their libraries.
I am going to have to look for a book by Compton-Burnett, if only to understand why Barbara Pym, in her letters, is constantly commenting on her style.
How can she be out of print? She was so popular with the readers at the British Council in Bucharest in the 1990s… or was it just me reading her multiple times?
It is one of the greatest injustices of modern publishing, in my biased eyes!
I think I have to try ICB at some point as her name keep coming up in connection with many of the women writers of the mid 20th century I tend to enjoy. Is there one of her novels in particular you would recommend as a good introduction to her style? I’d be interested to know.
In the meantime, this sounds like very absorbing book, particularly for readers already familiar with ICB’s work.
Oo I hope you do! I think Manservant and Maidservant could be a good place to start, as it’s a bit easier to find and is very good. I find her quality and tone pretty consistent, so it doesn’t matter TOO much where you begin. Some other favourites of mine include More Women Then Men, The Present and The Past, and Darkness and Day.
Glad you got to sneak Ivy in! :D I think there might be a few of her books available from NYRB and Bloomsbury Readers, but possibly these are POD?? Anyway, bearing in mind she’s been in mainstream Penguin editions in the past it’s a shame that she’s not more widely available!
Yes, a couple in print in the US, thankfully (and Hesperus used to have one) but I think all the Bloomsbury ones are ebook and POD only. It seems so odd to me!
Look at Hargreaves all snuggled up!
I’ve yet to read any ICB. But if we land on 1935 for a future club, I promise to read A House and Its Head.
I adore ICB and have read many of her books; I’ve never been able to understand why she isn’t read more. I suppose her style is a barrier for some — so terse, so elegant — and then, she can be very dark (or is it just realistic?). I was actually thinking of doing an ICB re-read, i.e., Spurling’s biography (have you read it? It’s very good) and then a novel or two (maybe Pastors & Masters; the Hesperus edition is still in print. Ditto for NYRB ‘s A House and its Head & Manservant and Maidservant). So nice to find out about Burkhardt’s book, so that’s next on my purchase list!
Oh I didn’t know Pastors and Masters was still in print with Hesperus – that’s great. I love the NYRB editions, but thought they might only be in the US? If not, then I’m delighted that the situation is better than I thought!
I’ve only read the second of Spurling’s biographies, because I’m more interested in her life as a writer than as a child. My favourite ICB book is the brilliant memoir by her secretary Cicely Grieg.
How nice to get so much information about ICB! I wasn’t aware of the Grieg book; I’ll have to keep an eye out for it (I’ve ordered a used copy of Burkhardt’s). Like you, I love the NYRB editions and used them to replace two battered and very worn copies of ICB’s novels I had managed to get on ABE books …
Hi Simon,
I believe Charles Burkhart was an English professor at Temple University in Philadelphia. His other book, Herman & Nancy & Ivy: Three Lives in Art (London 1977) is superb: it contains his own memoir of Ivy and the (rather gossipy and therefore fascinating) reminiscences of Herman Schrijver, a close friend of Ivy, very worthwhile to seek out.
Best,
Erik
Oo that does sound great Erik, thanks! I have another book he wrote about ICB but not this one.
Charles Burkhart was an English professor at Temple University for many years and was a wonderful teacher, full of insight, compassion and delight with both his students and what he was teaching. I remained a friend of his long after he was my professor. He was a splendid friend.
I’m delighted to hear that!
How lovely that you found someone else who enjoys her work as much as you do (and also lovely that you managed to wedge her into this event). Whenever I see the stuffed shelf of her works at the reference library here in the city, I think of your passion for her storytelling!
How lovely to be associated with ICB in someone’s mind!