The body-swap comedy is one of those tropes that is often talked about as if there were millions of them about, but in truth I can only think of a handful. In the world of literature, I’m down to Vice Verse by F Anstey, Freaky Friday by Mary Rodgers, Turnabout by Thorne Smith, and, if you read it somewhat elastically, Asleep in the Sun by Adolfo Bioy Casares. Do let me know if there are others I’m missing. But I can now add to that number Strange Journey by Maud Cairnes.
If you’ve heard of it, it’ll be because of Brad’s review at the excellent Neglected Books blog, where he wrote about it in June. Brad is up there with Scott of Furrowed Middlebrow for his extraordinary knowledge of books nobody else on the internet has mentioned. And he certainly knows how to wipe the internet clean of the books he mentions – as soon as the reviews are out, the secondhand market is drained. The first copy of Strange Journey I ordered got me a ‘sorry, this book has gone’ reply – the second, thankfully, came to my house. And with such a fab cover!
Given my love of the period (it was published in 1935) and my interest in fantastic novels, I couldn’t wait to get stuck in. When I say ‘fantastic’, I mean elements of fantasy happening in the real world. It had such a vogue in the ’20s and ’30s and so often commented on issues of the day. And in Strange Journey, the issue appears to be class.
Polly is a housewife in a middle-class (leaning towards lower-middle-class) household. Her family certainly aren’t poor, but they don’t have money to spare for luxuries. Even the basics can be a little bit of a struggle, and Polly feels rather run ragged. In 1935, it was still a novelty for some households to deal with only an occasional help, rather than a more regular maid or two. She is looking at from her front gate when she spots a woman in a Rolls Royce, clearly well-to-do.
Suddenly I felt a longing to change places with her, to get into that big, comfortable looking car, lean back in the soft cushions I felt sure that it contained, while the chauffeur made it glide away through the dusk to some pleasant house where there would be efficient servants and tea waiting, with a silver teapot, thin china, and perhaps hot scones, nice deep arm chairs to sit in, and magazines lying on the table.
I’ve quoted the same bit Brad did, but it is the key moment. Polly’s longing to exchange lives with this woman doesn’t happen instantly, but the seed is sown. A few days later, remembering that idle daydream, Polly suddenly feels dizzy – and discovers she is no longer in her own home.
Her dream seems to have come true. She is in a beautiful and enormous country house, with a team of servants and with no labour required of her. One of the first things she notices is her immaculate hands, which clearly have never had to be plunged into a bucket of soapy water.
Novels which use a fantastic device have to deal with the surprise of the protagonist. It’s the main difference between a fantastic novel and magic realism – this bizarre turn of events, and the character’s reactions, must be taken into account. Cairnes handles Polly’s disorientation very well. Her attempts to work out who the people around her are, and how they relate to her. Her frequent faux pas, as she tries to take on the tone of Lady Elizabeth (for such she is). And perhaps chiefly, trying to behave in a convincing manner to her new husband, Gerald (Major Forrester), without betraying her real husband, Tom. As it is, any affection from her seems to baffle Gerald.
Polly doesn’t stay there. Before too long, she is whisked back to her normal life – and it becomes clear that Lady Elizabeth has been there in her guise, telling Scottish folklore stories to Polly’s two children.
One of the less convincing elements of the book, albeit essential for the plot, is that Polly decides not to confide in her husband, or anyone. As the months go by, she keeps finding herself having dizzy spells that land her in Lady Elizabeth’s world. Cairnes has good fun with the humorous side of things, as Polly reveals Lady Elizabeth to be a secret bridge player, or as she gets confused with titles of nobles. At the heart of it is a lovable and empathetic character, making the most of the strange world she has found herself in, throwing in some matchmaking on the side. As the reader, I longed for Polly and Lady Elizabeth to meet… and, thankfully, they eventually do.
I loved Strange Journey. The novel sustains the initial idea wonderfully, and Cairnes is obviously an adept, if fairly light, writer. She appears to have only written one other novel, The Disappearing Duchess, and this costs $300 online…
Brad’s detective work add another fun twist to the tale. Maud Cairnes was a pseudonym – for Lady Maud Kathleen Cairns Plantagenet Hastings Curzon-Herrick (!!), known as Lady Kathleen. Head over to his piece for a bit about her extraordinary milieu; it’s safe to safe she was more familiar with Lady Elizabeth’s world than with Polly’s, so it is to her credit that she makes both equally believable.
Strange Journey is not at all easy to find – but I am certainly mulling it over as British Library choice at some point…
This sounds charming and would certainly be an interesting BL choice!
I’m glad that it’s getting a positive response here – it’s so up my alley that I was hoping it wouldn’t be too niche :D
This sounds delightful and as if it merits a new edition. I feel as if I have read and enjoyed several body swap books. There is Laughing Gas by Wodehouse, where a trip to the dentist precipitates the swap.
Probably my favorite is Charlotte Sometimes by Penelope Farmer about a girl at boarding school who wakes up 40 years in the past as a different schoolgirl. At the end, someone tells her they didn’t actually look identical, it was just that no one was expecting anyone different, so maybe they didn’t completely switch bodies, just beds/time. Can we count it?
I do like Freaky Friday, and you probably know Mary Rodgers wrote the music to Once Upon a Mattress, one of my favorite musicals (she inherited her talent from her father).
I am so surprised and delighted that Wodehouse has written something in this genre! I forgot about Charlotte SOmetimes – I haven’t read it, but I must. I hope it’s not one you have to read as a child to enjoy.
Sounds very entertaining and definitely a possible title for the BL series…. ;D
Fingers crossed!
Yes, I like Neglected Book too!
Just extraordinary knowledge there
Hm… okay, but… I don’t think this one is for me, to be honest. Not into magical reality anymore.
Ah, it isn’t magical realism, you’re in luck :D
I long to read this – please suggest it to the BL!
I’ll do my best!
Laughing Gas by P.G. Wodehouse is (surprisingly) another!
I am surprised! I can’t remember if this is or isn’t one of the many PGWs I have unread…
Other ‘shape shifting’ novels = my favouite, Alison Utteley’s ‘A Traveller in Time’ – perhaps written for children but equally absorbing for adults. And the TV series, ‘Quantum Leap’.
I love the sound of this, what a shame it’s so hard to come by. I love that vintage dust jacket too.
It’s really pretty, isn’t it?
Laski’s Victorian Chaise Longue is a darker sort of body-swap.
I suppose it is, though I don’t think of it as one because the ‘swap’ only goes in one direction. Great book, yes.
I’m fairly certain that my first body-swap story was “Turnabout Intruder” (I just looked up the title), a Star Trek episode in which Captain Kirk and an old flame switch bodies. That I haven’t seen it since I was a child suggests that it is memorable. Apparently, it’s considered one of the series’ very worst episodes.
The only body-swap novel I’ve read is A Gentle Fraud (1959) by Montrealer Katherine Roy. A forgotten book by a forgotten writer – despite having been published in Canada, the UK, and US – it concerns two women who willingly swap (unlike Kirk and his ex-gf). Though I did enjoy the novel, I can’t say I’d recommend it to anyone other than body-swap fans.
Do they exist?
If so, here is my review: Reading and Remembering Katherine Roy.
I wonder if I’d count myself as a body-swap fan = possibly!