Barbara Comyns (1907–1992)
Author of Our Spoons Came from Woolworths
About the Author
Works by Barbara Comyns
Tagged
Common Knowledge
- Canonical name
- Comyns, Barbara
- Legal name
- Comyns Carr, Barbara Irene Veronica
- Other names
- Bayley, Barbara Irene Veronica (birth)
- Birthdate
- 1907-12-27
- Date of death
- 1992-07-14
- Gender
- female
- Education
- Heatherley School of Fine Art
- Occupations
- novelist
antique furniture dealer
old car dealer
poodle breeder
artist - Relationships
- Pemberton, John (1st husband)
Carr, Richard Comyns (2nd husband) - Short biography
- Barbara Comyns was the pen name of Barbara Comyns Carr, née Barbara Irene Veronica Bayley, born 27 December 1907 at the family estate of Bell Court, Bidford-on-Avon, Warwickshire, the fourth among six children (five girls and one boy) of a Birmingham brewer and industrialist. She was educated by governesses and began to write and illustrate stories by age 10. Following the death of her father, she went to London to attend the Heatherley School of Fine Art. In 1931, she married John Pemberton, a painter, with whom she had two children. The couple moved in artistic and literary circles that included Augustus John and Dylan Thomas. After a divorce, she supported herself and her children by various jobs such as trading antiques and classic cars, modeling, breeding dogs, renovating apartments, and working as a cook in a private house. Some of these activities were featured in her 1987 novel, Mr. Fox. In 1945, she remarried to Richard Comyns Carr, who worked in the Foreign Office. Barbara's first published book was the semi-autobiographical novel Sisters by the River (1947), based on her childhood. Her next novel, Our Spoons Came from Woolworths (1950), was based on her first marriage. Others among her 11 novels were Who was Changed and Who was Dead (1955), The Vet’s Daughter (1959), The Skin Chairs (1962), and The Juniper Tree (1985). Out of the Blue into the Red (1960) was a nonfiction book about Spain, where she and Comyns Carr lived for 18 years. The Vet's Daughter was adapted by BBC radio and also became a 1978 musical called The Clapham Wonder.
- Nationality
- UK
- Birthplace
- Bidford-on-Avon, Warwickshire, England, UK
- Places of residence
- Bidford-on-Avon, Warwickshire, England, UK
Twickenham, Middlesex, England, UK
Ibiza, Spain
Barcelona, Catalonia, Spain
San Roque, Andalusia, Spain
London, England, UK - Place of death
- Stanton upon Hine Heath, Shropshire, England, UK
- Burial location
- St Andrew's Churchyard, Stanton upon Hine Heath, Shropshire, England, UK
- Map Location
- England, UK
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Discussions
I've never read *******; where should I start? in Virago Modern Classics (January 2014)
Reviews
The most "what the fuck did I just read?" book that I've come across in a while. Imagine a bunch of comic grotesques from a Jane Austen novel who've gone feral and are set to wander through an English village in the 1910s that's got more than a bit of a Gormenghast vibe to it. Terrible things happen there, all of which Barbara Comyns recounts with deadpan dark humour.
Tonally, this is a kind of dreamily alienated, amoral comedy of manners. This makes it a page-turner, but also ultimately I show more think reduces Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead's overall power. There isn't much depth or heft to it. It's acidic without having actual bite. show less
Tonally, this is a kind of dreamily alienated, amoral comedy of manners. This makes it a page-turner, but also ultimately I show more think reduces Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead's overall power. There isn't much depth or heft to it. It's acidic without having actual bite. show less
I just finished this as part of rainpebble's ALL VIRAGO/ALL AUGUST challenge. It's a sometimes hilarious comedy because of its deadpan, first person narration written in a very simple, childlike voice that reminds me of Gertrude Stein's Gentle Lena. Sophia isn't in any way "simple-minded," though -- rather, a bit naive with some serious "self-esteem issues."
I think the funniest scene might be the one where "Bumble," a painter for whom Sophia is modelling, takes her and her young son, Sandro, show more in the car to a house where they'll be staying for the weekend.
Bumble stopped at a cake shop and bought masses of disgusting cakes all covered in imitation cream and jam and gave [Sandro] them to eat. Fortunately, he didn't like them, but thought it a good idea to smear them all over the seat and window of the car. Still it would have made even more mess if he had been sick.
This following an earlier scene in a bus when Sandro had gotten sick all over some woman's umbrella, which, as Sophia explains equally deadpan, had been opened.
If these incidents don't sound as funny in the retelling, it's because you've got to read them in the full, ongoing context of Sophia's naive, deadpan narration.
A definite 5*****. show less
I think the funniest scene might be the one where "Bumble," a painter for whom Sophia is modelling, takes her and her young son, Sandro, show more in the car to a house where they'll be staying for the weekend.
Bumble stopped at a cake shop and bought masses of disgusting cakes all covered in imitation cream and jam and gave [Sandro] them to eat. Fortunately, he didn't like them, but thought it a good idea to smear them all over the seat and window of the car. Still it would have made even more mess if he had been sick.
This following an earlier scene in a bus when Sandro had gotten sick all over some woman's umbrella, which, as Sophia explains equally deadpan, had been opened.
If these incidents don't sound as funny in the retelling, it's because you've got to read them in the full, ongoing context of Sophia's naive, deadpan narration.
A definite 5*****. show less
Everyone knows life in wartime London was frightening and miserable, but Caroline, the narrator of Mr. Fox, stoutly believes that despite the air raids and the war rations, the future holds wonderful things for her. This optimism and her intense energy propel her through a series of ruined homes, crazed (and illegal) business schemes, and strange men who want to make use of her. Comyns distinctive style adds to the humor of the book. By the end, you trust that Caroline will find her show more wonderful life, just not right now. show less
“The only things that are true in this story are the wedding and Chapters 10, 11 and 12 and the poverty.”
“Our Spoons” is Comyns’s somewhat autobiographical novel covering her early adult years and the cyclic struggles with her then husband. Undereducated and wrought with ongoing poverty, neglect, and indifference, Sophia Fairclough, in her youthful naiveté, fought her damnest to keep her family together during the Depression years in London. She was twenty-one when she married show more Charles, an aspiring artist who refused to have a real job, smokes, drinks, and didn’t like their son because he looked too much like himself. Sigh. They go through mini periods of joy, whenever they have steady income, such as when Sophia receives an unexpected inheritance. Otherwise, it’s misery for all leading to adultery, abortion, and death – until Sophia and Charles finally separate and Sophia finds her own happiness.
At a modest 200 pages, this little book delivered a punch that bought pain and joy. The optimistic Sophia hung on to this marriage even though her husband provided nearly no partnership and little care. A part of me wants to slap her awake; a part of me wants to feed and shelter her and her children. The chapters on child birth were beyond “wow”, not a good time to be a mom for sure! This book, being semi-autobiographical, was particularly emotional, with all that she went through. Even though not all is true, the reader is silently cheering for her and wishing her the best. One bit nearly torn my heart out. The prose is somewhat choppy with short chapters, as though from memories that are piecemealed together. The text is bluntly earnest, expressing sadness and tragic moments that are oddly humorous. Her resourcefulness was inspiring. For the subject and story, I found the prose to be appropriate and effective. Overall, it’s a fast and entertaining read.
Sidebar: I bought this book partly because of the “…Woolworths” title – a store that I have an odd fondness for. An overflowing emporium with everything a person may want, including queasy pizza in the U.S. long time ago. I still have unopened socks from there that are virtually old-timey souvenirs by now. Don’t ask. :P
Some Quotes:
On Pregnancy – oh, that poor, naive girl:
“Charles said, ‘Oh dear, what will the family say? How I dislike the idea of being a Daddy and pushing a pram!’ So I said, ‘I don’t want to be a beastly Mummy either; I shall run away.’ Then I remembered if I ran away the baby would come with me wherever I went. It was a most suffocating feeling and I started to cry.”
On Birth Control – ditto:
“…before we were married Charles told me he never wanted to have any children, and I saw they would not fit in with the kind of life we would lead, so I just hoped none would come to such unsuitable parents – anyway, not for years. I had a kind of idea if you controlled your mind and said ‘I won’t have any babies’ very hard, they most likely wouldn’t come. I thought that was what was meant by birth-control, but by this time I knew what idea was quite wrong.”
On Starving Artist:
“…Sometimes we were several weeks behind and the landlady would ask us for money each time we went in or out of the house. I would hear her talking about us to the other people who lived on the floor below and felt dreadfully ashamed. Charles did not mind. He just said she was a silly old bitch. As soon as Charles started to paint he forgot about the cold and money worries. That is how artists should be, but I was only a commercial artist, so I went on worrying…” show less
“Our Spoons” is Comyns’s somewhat autobiographical novel covering her early adult years and the cyclic struggles with her then husband. Undereducated and wrought with ongoing poverty, neglect, and indifference, Sophia Fairclough, in her youthful naiveté, fought her damnest to keep her family together during the Depression years in London. She was twenty-one when she married show more Charles, an aspiring artist who refused to have a real job, smokes, drinks, and didn’t like their son because he looked too much like himself. Sigh. They go through mini periods of joy, whenever they have steady income, such as when Sophia receives an unexpected inheritance. Otherwise, it’s misery for all leading to adultery, abortion, and death – until Sophia and Charles finally separate and Sophia finds her own happiness.
At a modest 200 pages, this little book delivered a punch that bought pain and joy. The optimistic Sophia hung on to this marriage even though her husband provided nearly no partnership and little care. A part of me wants to slap her awake; a part of me wants to feed and shelter her and her children. The chapters on child birth were beyond “wow”, not a good time to be a mom for sure! This book, being semi-autobiographical, was particularly emotional, with all that she went through. Even though not all is true, the reader is silently cheering for her and wishing her the best. One bit nearly torn my heart out. The prose is somewhat choppy with short chapters, as though from memories that are piecemealed together. The text is bluntly earnest, expressing sadness and tragic moments that are oddly humorous. Her resourcefulness was inspiring. For the subject and story, I found the prose to be appropriate and effective. Overall, it’s a fast and entertaining read.
Sidebar: I bought this book partly because of the “…Woolworths” title – a store that I have an odd fondness for. An overflowing emporium with everything a person may want, including queasy pizza in the U.S. long time ago. I still have unopened socks from there that are virtually old-timey souvenirs by now. Don’t ask. :P
Some Quotes:
On Pregnancy – oh, that poor, naive girl:
“Charles said, ‘Oh dear, what will the family say? How I dislike the idea of being a Daddy and pushing a pram!’ So I said, ‘I don’t want to be a beastly Mummy either; I shall run away.’ Then I remembered if I ran away the baby would come with me wherever I went. It was a most suffocating feeling and I started to cry.”
On Birth Control – ditto:
“…before we were married Charles told me he never wanted to have any children, and I saw they would not fit in with the kind of life we would lead, so I just hoped none would come to such unsuitable parents – anyway, not for years. I had a kind of idea if you controlled your mind and said ‘I won’t have any babies’ very hard, they most likely wouldn’t come. I thought that was what was meant by birth-control, but by this time I knew what idea was quite wrong.”
On Starving Artist:
“…Sometimes we were several weeks behind and the landlady would ask us for money each time we went in or out of the house. I would hear her talking about us to the other people who lived on the floor below and felt dreadfully ashamed. Charles did not mind. He just said she was a silly old bitch. As soon as Charles started to paint he forgot about the cold and money worries. That is how artists should be, but I was only a commercial artist, so I went on worrying…” show less
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- Works
- 11
- Members
- 3,465
- Popularity
- #7,340
- Rating
- 3.9
- Reviews
- 128
- ISBNs
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