Good Behaviour

Aroon St. Charles is an unlovely character but pitiable in her naiveté (or was it willful ignorance?). As she narrates the tale of her life, imagining herself to be, if not the heroine, the sympathetic protagonist, what clearly comes across to the reader is a different picture than she desires. For example, Aroon tells herself & the reader that Richard Massingham loved her. It is obvious to the reader (and indeed to several of the other characters) that instead Richard and Aroon's brother Hubert were having a homosexual affair.

Aroon, as she says multiple times, is big. It took me some time to decipher this code - she isn't just tall but tall and obese. Whether this is the cause of her inept searching for love & security or the result show more of not finding that love from her mother growing up is unclear to me. Certainly there are many indications in the book of an overwhelming Electra complex in Aroon. Her life in Anglo-Irish society in the years both before and after WW1 is extremely restricted. She doesn't go to school (she has a governess) and she is discouraged from associating with the children of the 'lesser' classes so basically she only has her brother as a companion. Since her mother is emotionally distant, she relies on her father and brother for love. As she grows up, her belief that she correctly understands social and emotional situations is increasingly laughable. Aroon has had a very sheltered upbringing but she never seems to feel the need to spread her wings, experience more of life, so it is hard to place all the blame of her ignorance on her upbringing.

Another example of her self-delusion involves the relationship between Rose & her father after he has a stroke. There are several very transparent clues that Rose has been, to use vulgar parlance, giving the Major a hand job. Aroon even walks in on this once but says (believes?) that Rose was massaging the Major's cold foot! Even Aroon must know the location of a foot - it must have been obvious that the activity was occurring a bit higher than that!

While I can feel a certain amount of pity for the child and young woman Aroon was, the opening scene of the book makes it hard for me to like Aroon. Most of the book is a flashback, giving Aroon's view of life & events leading to a time some 25 years before the opening chapter. Her insistence on having things her own way in that first chapter as well as some of the events in it make her decidedly unappealing. Having finished the book and then reread that first chapter, the idea of her controlling behaviour with her mother lasting 25 years is appalling! show less

The St Charles family, like many other members of the Ascendancy in 1920s Ireland, find themselves on the brink of an economic and cultural abyss. There's no more money to maintain their crumbling Georgian manor, and the rules of Good Behaviour constrain them from talking openly about all the ways they are horrible to one another or about how the world is changing around them. (Neither Independence nor the Civil War are so much as mentioned her.)

Good Behaviour is narrated by the daughter of the family, Aroon, who is naive and passive, an inveterate observer who can't or won't see what's happening under her nose, an unlikable character who occasionally stirs the reader's sympathy. Molly Keane had a keen eye for all the ways that families show more can hurt one another, and for the acute, cringing horror of awkward social situations—I spent much of my time reading the book with my shoulders up around my ears in vicarious humiliation. The dark humour on display here is poisonous, congealing, unfailingly bleak—tapping into that vein of Irish humour that refuses the possibility of hope. show less

"All my life so far I have done everything for the best of reasons and the most unselfish motives."

This dark comedy of the decaying Anglo Irish aristocracy was shortlisted for the Booker Prize. As the book opens, Aroon St. Charles has prepared a delicacy for her mother's lunch: rabbit mousse, even though she knows her mother hates rabbit. And, unfortunately, the dish proves to be the death of Aroon's mother. For the rest of the book, Aroon thinks back on her life, from childhood on, as the family fortunes and position of privilege go into steep decline. As she narrates her story, Aroon misinterprets everything, while making everything perfectly clear to us, the readers. She is, in fact, the perfect unreliable narrator.

I enjoyed this show more book by sometimes overlooked novelist Molly Keane. I have two other of her books on my Kindle, and hope to get to them soon (Famous Last Words).

3 1/2 stars

First line "Rose smelt the air, considering what she smelt; a miasma of unspoken criticism and disparagement fogged the distance between us." show less

Good Behaviour was on the the 1981 Booker Prize shortlist and is one of Anglo-Irish writer Molly Keane’s better-known works. It’s the first novel of hers I’ve tackled, and my understanding of the book was expanded and enriched by reading and discussing it with a friend.

The novel opens dramatically with the death of fifty-seven-year-old Aroon’s elderly mother. It’s up to the reader to decide if her demise is, in fact, a murder. Aroon feeds “Mummie”, a heart patient, rabbit, a food that the woman loathes and which Rose, the family’s longtime cook and servant, warns has sickened the old lady in the past. No matter. Aroon brings up the prettily arranged tray to the patient who lies on the prettily arranged pillows in a show more prettily redecorated room. A whiff of the meal is enough to make Mummie drop dead. Rose promptly accuses Aroon of killing her mother. Did she? And, if so, what provoked the act? In the subsequent thirty-three chapters, Aroon tells the story of her family, shedding light on how she arrived at this place.

It should be noted that Good Behaviour is not a thriller. Beginning with the title, it’s an ironic and often dark work. No one in this novel, set mostly in the first quarter of the twentieth century, behaves well; the bad behaviour is just hidden and generally imperceptible to Aroon, the naïve narrator of a story dealing with the decline of the Anglo-Irish landed class in general and Aroon’s family, the very dysfunctional St. Charleses, in particular.

Aroon is highly observant, but having lived an insular life on the increasingly run-down family estate and having only the governess, Mrs. Brock, as her single reliable source of affection, the young girl lacks the knowledge and experience to interpret what she sees with any accuracy. Aroon’s mother is distant and neglectful. She spends her days immersed in gardening and art, occasionally painting Aroon’s attractive younger brother Hubert. She disdains Aroon, not only because her daughter is large and ungainly, but also because she views the girl as a rival for the attention of Major St. Charles, Aroon’s father, a charismatic outdoorsy man with a harem of “lady friends”. When Aroon’s brother goes off to university in England and returns with a friend, Richard, the young woman falls in love with the glamorous visitor. Aroon is so thrilled to be included by Hubert and Richard and so ignorant of the ways of the wider world that she cannot recognize she’s being used by the two young men. The boys are in love with each other, and Aroon’s presence keeps the suspicious Major St. Charles off their case.

Part of the pleasure in reading this book arises from having to interpret what Aroon observes but does not understand. Keane’s novel is rich in small details, and certain images repeat and reinforce each other over time. None of the characters is pleasant, yet I found that midway through the book Aroon had my sympathy. Having said that, I must clarify that the ironic tone of the novel always keeps the reader at a distance from the characters. Even so, this is a brilliant and very clever novel. Not enjoyable in the usual sense, but rewarding. show less

I have never quite read a book like Good Behaviour, and I read a lot of novels about life among the upper classes set in various periods in the history of the British Isles. This is a (very black) comedy of manners centering around an impoverished family of Irish gentry set in the interwar period. So far, so familiar.

What is not familiar is the tragic, blindly innocent, overlooked narrator, a fully-realized woman with extremely complex feelings that she isn't able to articulate and doesn't seem quite to understand. In a strange way Aroon reminds me a bit of the (stereotype of the) Millennial Generation: constantly navel-gazing, but without any true self-awareness. Throughout the book, she lies to herself, failing to see what is really show more going on because the proprieties of "good behavior" have left her sheltered and the coldness of her dysfunctional parents has left her emotionally stunted.

The skill of the book lies in Keane's ability NEVER to tell us what is going on but to allow us to figure it all out. She never strays from seeing things through Aroon's eyes. I mean, a lot of books are written in first person, but they don't always commit the way Keane commits. I was just blown away by how fully some of Keane's simple sentences conjure Aroon, with all her weaknesses and stupidities (and her occasional bursts of cunning), a real live character that you feel you really know. Outstanding. show less

For certain families, keeping up appearances in public is of prime importance. The St Charles family is one of these. Daughter Aroon, now the ungainly, unmarried daughter, looks back on her childhood at Temple Alice and how expectations of "good behaviour" ultimately brought unhappiness and even tragedy. Aroon and her brother Hubert grew up in the care of a cool and distant mother and a philandering father. Mummie preferred to look the other way, rather than confront Papa's infidelity. Papa loved his children on one level, but preferred riding, fox-hunting, and women to life at home. When Papa is wounded in the war, his convalescence provides Aroon and Hurbert an unexpected opportunity to enjoy a new level intimacy with their father. show more Mummie remains aloof, and can't hold back a sadistic glow when she realizes her husband is unable to ride.

As Aroon grows into a young woman, she sets her sights on Hubert's best friend Richard. She wildly misinterprets his behavior towards her, and convinces herself they are lovers. She fails to see what's obvious to the reader: Richard and Hubert are much more than friends. When Richard suddenly goes off to Africa, Aroon continues her delusion, sure he will return for her one day. When a letter finally arrives, she is at first disappointed -- until she finds a way to infuse each paragraph with hidden meaning.

Inevitably, the family's fortunes change. They have lived way beyond their means, with a bad habit of stuffing every bill into a drawer. Their solicitor knows the score and tries to help, but Mummie and Papa are compelled to maintain the illusion of wealth and society, so their irresponsible spending continues unchecked. Even in the most intense and private situations, good behaviour rules:
When the last speechless hand-grip was completed, Papa, Mummie, and I were left in the hall, with empty glasses and the empty plates; funerals are hungry work. We exchanged cool, warning looks -- which of us could behave best: which of us could be least embarrassing to the others, the most ordinary in a choice of occupation? (p. 113)

Good Behaviour landed Molly Keane firmly on my favorite authors list. Her characterizations are classic examples of an author showing, not telling. At an early age Richard is "caught" reading poetry in a treehouse. Richard and Hubert go to great lengths to be together alone. Slowly, the reader comes to realize they are gay. It's brilliantly done. She conveys emotion with similar skill. When Aroon goes to a party alone and finds she's been paired with an older, misfit of a man, her pain is palpable. And yet there are also moments of delightful wit, such as Mummie's visit with neighbors, when she finds the primary bathroom already in use. Her host directs her:
'You'll have to try the downstairs. I'll just turn out the cats. They love it on a wet day.' I could imagine them there, crouched between the loo and the croquet mallets and the Wellington boots and the weed killer. (p. 157)

My Virago Modern Classics collection includes several more books by Molly Keane (who also wrote under the pseudonym M.J. Farrell). I can't wait to discover more of her talent. show less

4.5*

Aroon St. Charles is an unlovely character but pitiable in her naiveté (or was it willful ignorance?). As she narrates the tale of her life, imagining herself to be, if not the heroine, the sympathetic protagonist, what clearly comes across to the reader is a different picture than she desires. For example, Aroon tells herself & the reader that Richard Massingham loved her. It is obvious to the reader (and indeed to several of the other characters) that instead Richard and Aroon's brother Hubert were having a homosexual affair.

Aroon, as she says multiple times, is big. It took me some time to decipher this code - she isn't just tall but tall and obese. Whether this is the cause of her inept searching for love & security or the show more result of not finding that love from her mother growing up is unclear to me. Certainly there are many indications in the book of an overwhelming Electra complex in Aroon. Her life in Anglo-Irish society in the years both before and after WW1 is extremely restricted. She doesn't go to school (she has a governess) and she is discouraged from associating with the children of the 'lesser' classes so basically she only has her brother as a companion. Since her mother is emotionally distant, she relies on her father and brother for love. As she grows up, her belief that she correctly understands social and emotional situations is increasingly laughable. Aroon has had a very sheltered upbringing but she never seems to feel the need to spread her wings, experience more of life, so it is hard to place all the blame of her ignorance on her upbringing.

Another example of her self-delusion involves the relationship between Rose & her father after he has a stroke. There are several very transparent clues that Rose has been, to use vulgar parlance, giving the Major a hand job. Aroon even walks in on this once but says (believes?) that Rose was massaging the Major's cold foot! Even Aroon must know the location of a foot - it must have been obvious that the activity was occurring a bit higher than that!

While I can feel a certain amount of pity for the child and young woman Aroon was, the opening scene of the book makes it hard for me to like Aroon. Most of the book is a flashback, giving Aroon's view of life & events leading to a time some 25 years before the opening chapter. Her insistence on having things her own way in that first chapter as well as some of the events in it make her decidedly unappealing. Having finished the book and then reread that first chapter, the idea of her controlling behaviour with her mother lasting 25 years is appalling! show less