50 Books…

5. It’s Too Late Now – A. A. Milne

It was only a matter of time before Mr. Milne got a mention on these pages. Wait, he had one the other day, didn’t he?

The Secret Option to my potential Summer Reads may be the only way in which most people have come across Alan Alexander – but he wrote far more than the children’s books. In fact, like almost every successful author of children’s books that you could care to mention, he came to look on them as something of a distraction from his other work. During his lifetime, though, he was a renowned playwright, novelist, detective-novelist, poet, sketch-writer, essayist and even wrote one of the only three official works for the national Pacifist movement. Busy man.

Back in 2001, I decided to familiarise myself with the adventures of Mr. W. Pooh et al (still some of the best children’s books ever written – like most, wasted on children and most adults), and this led to me reading Christopher Milne’s autobiographical trilogy, The Enchanted Places, The Path Through The Trees, and The Hollow on The Hill. Look out for mention of them later. My Aunt Jacq, who shares many of my reading tastes, lent me several volumes of his work for Punch (of which he was sometime Assistant Editor) and the rest, as they, is history. I’ve read nearly everything he wrote (which is a LOT) and can recommend all of it – for those wishing to dabble, and don’t mind doses of whimsy, track down The Holiday Round as a starting point. If you don’t like whimsy, then try Two People, his best novel. His most popular non-children’s work was the detective novel The Red House Mystery, which was written before the Golden Age and thus looks a bit like a poor cousin – but still highly enjoyable.

BUT. The reason I’ve chosen It’s Too Late Now as the fifth book in my ’50 Books You Must Read But May Not Have Heard About’ is that is the perfect ‘way in’ to going beyond Winnie. This is his autobiography (in fact, published in the US as just An Autobiography), and is as representative of his work as anything else – funny, self-deprecating, anecdotal… and provides a great companion to the rest of his work. If you’d prefer a more impartial work, which also focuses more on his literary output, rather than his childhood, try Ann Thwaite’s excellent book A.A. Milne: His Life. She writes with evident enjoyment of his work, and presents extensive research without hitting you over the head with it.

Sadly, both books are out of print (well, the Thwaite keeps wavering, and is easier to come across) but both certainly worth locating. Milne’s ‘other work’ has become unjustly neglected, and needs re-discovering. Hope I’ll make some converts! He is such an amusing writer, and once you enter his world, you’ll never want to leave. Joie de vivre characterises almost all his work, especially the early plays and sketches. Oh yes, read Mr. Pim Passes By too, in either novel or play form. Oh yes, he did it in both. Another interesting point of comparison is the play The Great Broxopp, which is about an advertising tychoon whose child features in the adverts, as a baby – and the effect childhood fame has on the boy as he grows up. All written before Christopher Robin Milne was even born.

P.s. sorry for lack of cartoons over the past few days – hope people do enjoy them when they appear?? Instead, you have a nabbed picture of Ashdown Forest, the inspiration for the Hundred Acre Wood. The Clan went a few summers ago, and it is a wonderful place. An enchanted place, if you will.

50 Books…


2. The Provincial Lady

Now, this is probably the book which will best guide you in an understanding of my literary tastes. Perhaps even whispering the word ‘Persephone‘ would do that for many of you? Early twentieth-century domestic fiction doesn’t come better than today’s entry.

Next to be presented for inclusion in ’50 books…’ is The Provincial Lady, possibly well known to a lot of you out there. If it’s not, then BUY IT! Yes, it is not often that I shall wander into the forceful, but I cannot see any valid reason why this book is not in every household. Possibly several times. For backing up on this, may I direct you to the enthused ear of Random Jottings, one of my oldest (by which I mean, of course, longest-standing) e-friends. We bonded over EM Delafield about three years ago, and have sent a flurry of her books back and forth – is there a better basis for friendship than sharing a cherished author? Can’t think of many.

For those who don’t know, this is a fictional diary, based heavily on Delafield’s own life and family. Not a great deal happens, but as we meander through the struggles of middle-class village life, the heroine’s resigned, deadpan approach to everything becomes utterly irresistible. The book you see in the photo contains all four in the series – The Diary of a Provincial Lady; The Provincial Lady Goes Further (my favourite); The Provincial Lady in America; The Provincial Lady in Wartime. For stateside readers, the fourth of those is ‘…in London’. Don’t be fooled by The Provincial Lady in Russia. This was initially published as Straw Without Bricks, and is an account of Delafield’s time in a Soviet collective (!!), and only later did publishers see the potential profit in labelling it one of the series.

Alongside the book is the cassette. Dramatised, with Imelda Staunton as PL, and rather wonderful – do try and track it down if you can.

And once you’ve read Provincial Lady… well, I love As Others Hear Us, Faster! Faster!, Mrs. Harter… I do hope Random Jottings will comment and give us further info, for she is the true mine of knowledge on all things EMD. As is this website – it includes extracts, which should lure you in.

In other news, today was the Grand National. The Clan have an annual habit of picking a horse each, based entirely upon name and colours. This year, failing to notice one was called Simon, I plumped for Silver Birch – on the basis that Richmal Crompton wrote a book of short stories with the title. And it won! Shame our bets are of the imaginary kind…