Crampton Hodnet

Absolutely hilarious, though you may already have to be a Pym fan to get into the jokes right away. I am, so within seconds of opening he book, I was giggling helplessly at the way she so masterfully presents (in an ever so slightly bitchy tone) the foibles of we kind and normal folk as we go about our day.
Life is everyday in Pym's stories, but everyday is immensely funny, when looked at through her magnifying glass.
Loved this book best of all I've read.

2020 has become my year of rereading the novels of Barbara Pym, my favourite novelist - "favourite" in the sense of "speaks most to my soul", not as in "greatest" or "best"; I believe she would have appreciated the distinction. This is my revised review.

"I feel there's something awkward about a silence in a tool shed..."

In sleepy 1930s North Oxford, university don Francis Cleveland tiptoes delicately toward an extramarital affair with one of his students, Barbara Bird, unaware that his idea of a discreet affair is in fact visible to half the town. Francis' daughter Anthea falls in love with the son of a wealthy woman, to the delight of her great-aunt Miss Doggett, whose primary characteristic for a marriage is the postcode of the show more parents. And Miss Doggett's paid companion, the homely Miss Morrow, has a momentary romance with their lodger, the curate Mr Latimer, which is based primarily on a secret walk along the moor and a conversation in a tool shed during a storm.

Crampton Hodnet is one of my favourite Barbara Pym novels. Its history is inauspicious: written when the author was in her 20s, the young Pym abandoned the novel due to the outbreak of World War II and later decided it was too dated to publish when she became a recognised author. After her death, it was dug out of the archives for publication. While the novel may have a slightly scruffy quality, this is a real joy, very funny, precise in its observations and touching in Pym's portrayals of the quietly unmarried (and the quietly married) residents of North Oxford.

In her trademark ironic third-person style, Pym gives us both the inner thoughts of every character (they're all resigned to lives of comfortable dissatisfaction) and also external views from other characters that remind us so much of life is a study in point-of-view. Pym is often compared to Austen, although I don't personally find their styles all that similar, but Crampton Hodnet is perhaps the closest match - unsurprising as it was written so young, when authors are usually still betraying their influences. The arch narrative voice is as strong here as it ever would be. I'd acknowledge that this book does not have the sheer staying power of Pym's later works, so it's perhaps not the best place for newcomers. But if you've enjoyed even a couple of her books, this should delight too.

Here also we have so many of the tropes of the author's canon. The lives of academics and the clergy, the experience of the women still in their 30s who have resigned themselves to never having love, the daffy young lovers and the imperious older women, the poetry quotations, and a profusion of tea and cake. (Here too we have Pym's first queer characters, in the two young art-lovers Gabriel and Michael; like all of her gay men, they are treated just like any other characters.)

Great fun. show less

Crampton Hodnet is a delightful comedy of manners set in Oxford's academic community. The plot is straightforward and in some ways predictable, but it's simply the backdrop for some memorable characters and situations that are laugh-out-loud funny.

The elderly spinster Miss Doggett and her paid companion, Miss Morrow, serve to connect all the characters. Miss Doggett's nephew, Francis Cleveland, is an Oxford don infatuated with Barbara, one of his students. As their relationship evolves, they are increasingly observed by others (except, of course, Francis' wife Margaret), and become the subject of village gossip. Miss Doggett wants so badly to be in control, both of the relationship and the way it is revealed to Margaret, and her show more controlling nature is very funny, indeed. As Miss Doggett meddles in everyone's affairs, Miss Morrow quietly and patiently observes, sharing her innermost thoughts only with the reader.

Meanwhile Miss Morrow has ideas of her own, as she unleashes her wiles on a new curate, Mr. Latimer. Miss Doggett does not approve:
They were still laughing when Miss Doggett came in. The sound of their laughter was the first thing that she heard before the shameful sight met her eyes: the sight of Miss Morrow -- painted like a harlot -- sitting laughing on the bed with a handsome clergyman whom she had just met for the first time, the new curate whose welcome Miss Doggett had planned so carefully. It was too bad. Miss Doggett cast about in her mind for words strong enough to describe Miss Morrow's perfidy and deceit, but could find none. (p. 24)

To fully appreciate this quote one has to conjure up an image of the biggest busybody you've ever seen, decked out in a ridiculous hat, bursting in on the mousey Miss Morrow and the unsuspecting curate. Crampton Hodnet is full such little moments, where words and imagination come together to marvelous effect. Like when the persnickety, effeminate Edward Killigrew reflects on living with his mother:
'Oh, Mother is very well, thank you,' said Edward. 'Full of beans, as usual,' he added, his tone losing a little of its joviality. He knew that it was wicked and unfilial of him, but he sometimes wished that Mother was not quite so full of beans. (p. 74)

Or this, as Latimer prepares to go on holiday with another clergyman:
His friend, the Reverend Theodore James, was rather too serious a companion for a holiday. He couldn't think now why he had suggested that he should join him. It wasn't as if they had ever liked each other. Still, it was too late to do anything about it now, and at least they would be able to have a good talk about old times, rejoicing over those of their contemporaries who had not fulfilled their early promise and belittling those who had. (p. 158)

My only complaint about this book is that I would have liked for Margaret to show a bit more emotion -- anger, even -- at Francis' indiscretions. But Pym wasn't trying to make a statement; his infidelity was simply a mechanism to unleash a variety of characters and put them in awkward or humorous situations for the reader's enjoyment. And enjoy it, I did! show less

Completed around 1940, but not published until five years after her death in 1985, Barbara Pym’s Crampton Hodnet is an early example of what can only be described as “vintage Pym.” As expected, this novel is replete with bumbling academics, clueless prelates, gossiping spinsters, gay men and failed romances. It’s the funniest Pym I’ve read yet and absolutely charming.

Miss Doggett’s companion, Jessie Morrow (Hello old friends!), “a thin, used-up looking woman in her middle thirties,” has become a kind friend to new, handsome curate Reverend Stephen Latimer, who has come to live with them during his time in the parish. He gets the idea that he “might do worse than marry Miss Morrow.” The skeptical Jessie Morrow is show more apparently looking for something a wee bit more…..tempting.

At the same time, Francis Cleveland, a University lecturer in English Literature, is bored with his humdrum life with his wife, Margaret and daughter Anthea, and is gravitating more toward the lovely Miss Barbara Bird, a student that he is tutoring. He sees a future for them while she sees a platonic friendship. Anthea, meanwhile, is head over heels for twenty year old Simon Beddoes, whose only goal right now is to be Prime Minister.

Overseeing all that goes on in North Oxford is Miss Doggett, whose laser-like ability to nose out any story and insert herself into all predicaments is quite astounding. When it becomes apparent that Mr. Latimer is not going to be easy to push around, Pym gives us this hysterical bit:

“Miss Morrow knew that it was the beginning of the end. Mr. Latimer was starting to break away, if he had not already broken. It would not be long now before Miss Doggett would have to be finding herself another curate, preferably an old, disillusioned one with no spirit left in him, who had long ago given up the struggle. One who would be thankful just to have a bed and food and a corner in a dark Victorian-Gothic house in North Oxford where he might end his days in peace.” (Page 155)

I can’t overstate my admiration for Barbara Pym’s ability to depict with wit and irony the everyday occurrences in this genteel Oxford community. Highly recommended. show less

In this comedy of manners set in Oxford, England, between the wars, we are afforded a look into the lives of the genteel class of North Oxford. The foibles and pecadilloes of the comfortably off are exposed and discussed with a delightful acerbity and controlled understatement as they go about their daily lives. Miss Doggett (lady of the Lodge, in her 70s) and her live-in paid companion, Miss Morrow (aged 36), form the loose centre of this cluster of characters and their goings-on. Miss Morrow's voice and her observations are what we come to trust, as this outwardly desiccated old maid (her words, in essence) harbours a good, well-educated mind and a wryly realistic approach to life. One of the main plots involves a basically lazy show more professor of English Literature who attempts a romance with one of his undergrad students, threatening to upset the staid comfort of his life - is she worth losing a large sitting room over? A genuine comfort read for those times when your mind can't handle much more, yes, but not a dopey book, either. I don't think anyone can write a comedy of manners better than the English, bless 'em. And Pym writes better than most. show less

(7 Jan 1993)

A very early novel, published after Pym’s death, this is a hilarious portrait of North Oxford life with Miss Doggett and Miss Morrow, who were recycled for “Jane and Prudence“, taking centre stage.

We find the classic Pym clergymen and their wives, women who are bad at being a wife, happy, wry spinsters and of course a curate, described deliciously here at one point as resembling a satisfied marmalade cat, with the addition of the adoration of a professor by his clever student and a delightfully waspish Bodleian librarian. Heavily edited by Hazel Holt, it remains a good, fun read, with plenty to say about love and marriage, spinsters and wives, and fussy and foolish men, with some great characters and some interesting show more insights into what Pym’s women actually do want out of their relationships with men. show less

I like to equate reading Barbara Pym to doing something super relaxing and a little indulgent, like getting a pedicure or an afternoon nap or a leisurely walk in a cool, scenic place. There's something about her writing that is very comforting to me. But at the same time it isn't boring. This book focuses on Miss Morrow, companion to an elderly spinster, and Mr. Cleveland, an Oxford professor. Most of the drama surrounds Mr. Cleveland as he starts an inappropriate relationship with one of his female students. Sounds rather dramatic, but actually it turns out being quite comical.

This was one of her first books and wasn't published posthumously. I think it got some final editing after she died. It was a bit simpler than some of her other show more books, but I still liked it quite a bit. show less