I’m delighted that One Year’s Time by Angela Milne has been out for a month now, and I realise I’ve mentioned it a few times but haven’t ever actually written a review of it. I’ve only seen one or two online so far, so I want to spread word more about this marvellous book.
And, gosh, it so nearly didn’t happen! I may have told this story before, but it bears repeating. It was all lined up a couple of years ago, and I think it was even in the catalogue, but it was proving impossible to track down the family. The British Library are brilliant at finding estates and negotiating publications, so it did feel like a lost cause. With the thought ‘well, it can’t hurt’, rather than any real expectations, I put a plea out here. And it turned out that one of Angela Milne’s nephews had once commented on Claire’s blog, so she got in touch with him – and he was able to connect us with Angela Milne’s children. How wonderful! The blogging world stepped in where every other attempt had failed – and the result is that One Year’s Time is back in print.
This was Angela Milne’s only novel, published in 1942 but set in the 1930s – the exact year isn’t clear, but war is clearly on the horizon. It tells of a year in the life of Liza, particularly her romantic entanglements with a young man called Walter (!), and of her work in an office. It’s rare to get the career angle of a woman’s life in a novel from this period, and I particularly enjoyed that.
As the book opens, Liza is painting the floor – rather unsuccessfully. She surveys her flat, and feels a bit sad about being single.
There was a scrubby patch on the carpet where she had washed the ink out; and two cushions hardly counted as heaping a divan, and chintz curtains weren’t necessarily chintzy, and they weren’t gay, they were just curtains hanging up. She thought, oh, all these things the newspaper say about what they call Bachelor Girls.
‘Bachelor Girls’ is a term that recurs throughout the novel. Liza feels some disdain for women who are unmarried, particularly those who have settled into lifelong friendships with other women (and one does wonder how much she might be missing about lesbians…) But she also stands up to Walter when he mentions the same topic:
“You have to wear a collar and tie and have square legs to be a bachelor girl.”
“It’s awfully unfair that they don’t call men spinster boys. I mean, men who aren’t married. Why do you think they don’t?”
“I suppose they aren’t a new enough invention,” said Walter.
We chart the ups and downs of Liza and Walter’s relationship, and what I most enjoyed about it was the dialogue. It’s very hard to get flirtiness and wit onto the page, but I think Milne does it brilliantly. A lot of what they say is quite stagey, and reminded me of Noel Coward, so it gives the sense of what their relationship is like – rather than being actual conversations that real people would have. And that, to my mind, makes it much more entertaining.
As I wrote in my afterword to the new edition, two themes that dominate One Year’s Time, or at least preoccupy the characters, are sex and money. It is surprisingly frank for a 1942 novel, particularly one probably aimed at a wide audience rather than a small literary elite. Walter casually says that the thing he likes best in the world is sex, and Liza and Walter go speedily from meeting each other to ‘me in bed with nothing on, and him kneeling there with only socks’. They have no qualms about discussing their past sexual history with each other, and Walter even casually mentions having had an affair with a married woman.
And then there’s money. Liza earns a living and has a small legacy from an uncle, but she is very conscious of not having quite enough to live the lifestyle she’d like. We get the details of her salary, her potential raises, her rent – even how much different food items are in shops, and her silent indignance when a friend spends more than others at a restaurant then splits the bill. Such things are perennial.
So much about this book feels fresh and modern. It’s also, of course, a snapshot of the late 1930s – in a way that helps us remember that human nature doesn’t changed very much, and we all have more or less the same concerns that our parents/grandparents/great-grandparents did. Most of all, I think it’s a very funny book with a memorable pair at the centre who are often frustrating but always compelling. I’m so pleased it’s back in print, and I finally have my own copy.
This one sounds like a perfect weekend read (fortunately, I already have a copy waiting for me); I’ll move it up in the queue! Such an intriguing backstory as well! It makes me wonder how many other excellent books have fallen through the cracks . . .
The best recommendations are always the ones waiting on the shelves, aren’t they!
Gosh this sounds so good, I am so looking forward to this. With 3 new BLWW books landing on my door mat recently I am spoilt for choice. I particularly love reading about women in the workplace in the pre and post WW2 years.
Really looking forward to your thoughts on them, Ali!
I just wanted to say how much I appreciate what you do. You and your blog have introduced me to so many new/old authors that I have thoroughly enjoyed.
Love stuckinabook thank you.
That comment means a lot, thank you so very much, Julia!
Simon, how can readers in the States get hold of these BLWW books? Sometimes I get lucky in thrift shops, courtesy no doubt of Brit ex-pats, but there are so many on my list that I can’t find here.
Certainly the best bet used to be Blackwells, who did free overseas shipping – not sure if that’s still true,but worth checking!
Thank you!
This does sound wonderful! Another lovely addition to the series.
I’m so glad to have my own copy now :)
I’m looking forward to reading this one. I’m very pleased that it was possible to get it republished. It does sound surprisingly racy for its time!
I was quite often surprised that it wasn’t a few decades later!
Sounds brilliant Simon – I really need to catch up witht BLWW books I have lurking!
Looking forward to hearing what you think :)
I believe the British Library shop also ships to the States.
Ah, good info, thanks Grier!
I really enjoyed this one (as you now know, my review coming out today) and I’d saved this for when I’d done it. It was a sort of eternal story as well as reminding us that extramarital sex didn’t start in WW2. The back story is fascinating: well done the blogs!
What a brilliant story about the background to this reissue! Such a stroke of luck, and, as you say, a testament to the value of the online bookish community. I have a copy of this (and the newly reissued von Arnim) on my reading pile and hope to get to it very soon. It sounds very witty!
I’m surprised ‘spinster boys’ wasn’t a euphemism really, it has the right sound of nasty coyness about it! I’m really enjoying this series and this sounds a great addition, the backstory is wonderful!
Almost finished this book. I picked it up along with 5 other books in this series at the British Library in August. Such a smart and fresh perspective. It feels so contemporary in that our author is clearly a strong subject with real human needs and also a load of contradcitions (as it goes). It almost verges on an existential novel in that much of what she’s actually commenting on is life itself and the odd ways we humans make sense of it all. I strongly recommend and hope to finish this weekend!
I really enjoyed this book. It came at a perfect time when I was recovering from COVID-19 and needed something light and fun. I think besides sex and money; the book is a timeless look at the inequality of women. Women then needed to be married to belong in the society. Liza’s desperation for Walter to marry her is not new. It is comparable to how some modern women judge others based on appearance and social status, even without societal pressure to marry.
Oh I’m so glad, Maya – yes, something so eternal about it.