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A forty-year-old schoolteacher from Ohio still reeling from the tragedies of the Great War and the influenza epidemic comes into a modest inheritance that allows her to take the trip of a lifetime to Egypt and the Holy Land. Arriving at the Semiramis Hotel, site of the 1921 Cairo Peace Conference, she meets Winston Churchill, T. E. Lawrence, and Lady Gertrude Bell. With her plainspoken American opinions, she becomes a sounding board for these historic luminaries who will, in the space of a few days, invent the nations of Iraq, Syria, Lebanon, Israel, and Jordan. While neither a pawn or a participant at the conference, she is drawn into the geopolitical intrigue surrounding the conference.… (more)
A fascinating book. More rich and memorable than a lifetime of history textbooks. Exquisitely researched down to the last details.
Two things keep Dreamers of the Day from joining Russell's other books among my absolute favorites -- 1) Agnes Shanklin often seems a mere vessel to convey historical facts and opinions on colonization decisions. The main character is more properly T.E. Lawrence. By necessity, historical fiction contains true historical figures, and Russell has clearly done her homework, never misattributing opinions. Nevertheless, Lawrence and other historical figures (Gertrude Bell, Winston Churchill and others) in starring roles makes the book feel less like a novel and more like a fictionalized historical text.
2) The ending was superfluous, silly and totally detracted from the tone of the book. ( )
How did I get to this ripe old age of mine and never hear of Gertrude Bell? I knew about Lawrence, of course, and had a vague idea that the middle east was parceled out by a small group of Englishmen that included Winston Churchill, but never any inkling of what really happened in an Egyptian hotel that changed the shape of the world and created the fractional and dysfunctional Middle East we see today.
Agnes Shanklin is an American schoolteacher, whose entire family has died in the influenza epidemic of 1918. (Russell's descriptions of the epidemic and the feelings it engendered were somewhat eerie in light of our own recent history). Agnes' sister, Lily, had known T. E. Lawrence before he achieved his fame, and when Agnes meets with him in Egypt, Lawrence invites her to share time with him and subsequently with the diplomats who are carving out the Middle East after WW1.
Agnes, as a friend of Lawrence, is intimate enough with the group to be included in some sensitive conversations, but remote enough not to be personally involved and have an outsider's view. Enter a German by the name of Karl Weilbacher, and you have someone to provide a romantic interest, a reason for Agnes to discuss the progress of the conference, and a person to provide another point of view from which to evaluate the proceedings.
There is a good smattering of descriptions of the holy land and Egypt, both the physical terrain and the social environment, and this is excellently done. I felt at times that I was taking a personal guided tour, and could hear the bustle of the marketplace and feel the crowding at the holy shrines. I experienced the discomfort of riding a camel across the desert to see the pyramids, and in fact, my rear end still aches from the bouncing.
I am a huge fan of Ms. Russell, and her inimitable style is certainly present in this novel, but there were also things that kept me at an arm’s length from our main character and at least one device that really bothered me. A short way into the narrative, Agnes drops that she is telling this story from beyond the grave, and I really did not care for that approach. The story would feel immediate and then Russell would remind us that Agnes was not alive, and somehow that would take something away from the reading for me. I could not see how this added anything to the novel other than providing Russell an avenue for her last chapter, and I felt that such an accomplished writer could have found another way to include this information or might have done just as well to save the “beyond the grave” surprise for the end. The story is well-told and the historical background very interesting, but I never cared enough for Agnes, so there was no sense of urgency on her behalf at any stage of reading.
What this book did inspire me to want to do is to rewatch Lawrence of Arabia. I saw it moons ago, and realized while reading that there is actually very little of it I remember beyond the sweeping cinematography for which it is famous. I will take advantage the next time it airs to revisit a film which is a known masterpiece and see how much of this “unknown” history I might have already been aware of if I had been paying attention. ( )
Loved this book. Have read every non-fiction book on T.E.Lawrence that I can, and loved this fictionalized story about him. Anyone who is an admirer of Lawrence, will appreciate her portrayal of him. ( )
Well, I love Ms. Russell's writing, and this novel is no exception. It reads true to life, backing her claim of extensive research. At 40 her protagonist, Agnes Shanklin, an unmarried schoolteacher, looses her mother and siblings to the flu pandemic rife in the world at the end of the Great War. With her lose comes an inheritance that allows her a real vacation to Egypt. The vacation turns her life around. While most Americans then didn't see much beyond their immediate surroundings, Agnes sees a world she hadn't dreamed of. Not to tell too much, but her adventure includes hobnobbing with important politicians of the day, witnessing the creation of the modern Middle East and the modern day problems to come. Unusual and captivating, the story is not to be missed. ( )
Agnes Shanklin is a 40 year old school teacher from Ohio who survived the tragedies of the 1st world war & the influenza epidemic. She comes into a modest inheritance & travels to Egypt just as the Peace Conference convenes. She meets Winston Churchill, Gertrude Bell, & T. E. Lawrence who were involved in creating Iraq, Syria, Lebanon, Israel & Jordan. "I suppose I ought to warn you at the outset that my present circumstances are puzzling, even to me. Nevertheless, I am sure of this much: my little story has become your history. You won't really understand your times until you understand mine."
I suppose I ought to warn you at the outset that my present circumstances are puzzling, even to me.
Quotations
And yet, I will confess to you, from time to time I envied my youthful self—that girl who could still dream and want more, who could still imagine someone who had never materialized, except during those brief weeks before Douglas fell in love with Lillie. However briefly, Douglas had seen my true self, and he had not laughed or sneered or sighed. He was only being kind, I suppose. But kindness is so important, wouldn't you agree?
He had a smile like sunrise.
India was the primary source of British prosperity, Karl continued. "It is governed by bureaucrats who live like royalty with palaces and servants," he said. "Who among them would give up wealth and privilege for such airy ideals as liberty and equality for brown people?"
I imagine everyone's forgotten the difference between suffragists and suffragettes after all these years, but believe me, it was significant. Anyone who favored votes for women was a suffragist, whether male or female. Suffragettes were women only, radicals determined to wrest their rights from the patriarchy by any means necessary, including the occasional plot to push a government official or two under the odd locomotive.
"It's no wonder they're angry! If powerful people won't even ask what you want—it's as if you don't matter a bit. And that's not fair, because we all matter the same amount!" I insisted, cringing away from the shrieking, gesticulating men I was defending. "President Wilson was right about that! All nations matter the same amount, even if they aren't rich and powerful like Great Britain!"
For the first time in my life I began to understand why people enjoy drinking. Barriers are dissolved. Conversation is easy and unexamined. Nothing you say seems stupid, and everything seems amusing. No wonder gin parties were all the rage back home!
While I do not remember getting into the taxi with him, I do recall his tolerant chivalry when I warned him that I was probably going to be sick. The colonel snapped an order to the driver, who pulled to the side of the road halfway over the Gazirah Bridge. Lawrence got out, opened my door, told Rosie to "Stay!" and steadied me on the way to the railing, where I abruptly contributed to the general fetidness of the Nile.
I laughed, amazed by the notion, and said, "I suppose there are two sides to every story." "Or three, or four," he said.
It was such a simple idea, really, but many things seemed to click into place for me. It was not scandalous or sinful or dangerous to understand a different point of view. I had been raised to believe that to do so was to risk error at least and damnation at worst. Knowing Karl taught me that it was simply good manners, and a more interesting way to live.
"Frankly," he confided as we retreated down the hill, "I think the world will be a better place when science has swept all religion into the dustbin of history. What is religion but a shared belief in things that cannot be known? When we substitute concurrence for fact, fantasy quickly replaces knowledge. Why? Because knowledge is much more trouble to acquire!"
"The Christians of Egypt are called Copts. The word is a corruption of the Greek for Egypt: Ai-gup-tios. The Arabs turned gup to qop, and the medieval Latinists made that Coptus. Typical of Egypt: layer upon layer," he said with a smile. "The Copts claim to be the true descendants of the ancient Egyptians, and they may be correct. Look there! Can you see how the Egyptian ankh has become a Christian cross? Paintings of the Virgin suckling Jesus are very like those of Isis nursing the baby Horus. Most Egyptians converted to Islam thirteen hundred years ago. Coptic Christians are very few today. They have not much influence."
"Islamic theology is sublime, Agnes. For Jews, I think, it is more familiar than Christianity—a true monotheism, unlike the Trinity. But at the level of the family?" He shook his head, and we walked on. "Most religions seem to concentrate on making sure that men do not raise someone else's sons. And if little girls are married off at twelve—" "There is less opportunity for the gods to visit in the night." "And fewer inconvenient babies."
"Agnes, the war had nothing to do with the archduke! It was planned for years. The Prussians told the kaiser, 'Germany will be at the peak of military power between 1913 and 1915, but France will catch up by 1916.' When a footrace is to begin, a shot is fired, yes? But the gunshot is not the reason for the race. The assassination of Archduke Ferdinand was not a reason for the war. It was merely the gunshot that began it."
Once I returned from a museum visit to find Rosie fast asleep in Karl's arms, flat on her back with her short legs twitching. "She is dreaming of ancient times," Karl whispered with soft solemnity, "when sausage dogs were tall."
"She has no idea how small she is! My theory is that dogs believe they are the size of whomever they bark at, which is why small dogs are so fierce and big dogs are often gentle."
"It is remarkable what people choose to do, and then insist they had no choice."
In those hours, far from home, beyond the scrutiny of those who knew me in Ohio, the very meaning of sin began to change. To leave the apple unpicked—that was sin. To choose loneliness if love—even illicit love—were offered, that seemed worse than sin. That would make my life a tragedy.
the burly Winston Churchill had a topcoat on, and its added bulk made him look more than ever like Mr. Toad of Toad Hall.
A week—a day, an hour—earlier, I would have shrunk from her, convinced of my own inadequacy. Instead, I laughed, transformed by a kiss and a man who had pronounced me handsome, accomplished, and brave.
"Nothing to grab but sky," he snarled, fear making him angry. "How the hell do you steer this thing?"
How easy it is to begin a journey in ignorance and how quickly one can come to regret it, I thought.
"You poor thing," I said aloud, and firmly. "Colonel Lawrence, you look exhausted." "The longest fortnight I have ever lived," he admitted. "Forty points of view, forty opinions to bring into balance...And then it all has to be written up." He smiled briefly and looked away. "Winston's idea of working hard is to assign an impossible task to others and wait for the report." He leaned toward me slightly and confided, "War was easier."
"And the two shall be as one," Miss Bell intoned. "The one, of course, is always the husband."
"Well! When six decades of nice manners fail to produce a result, you have to become a nuisance or you'll never get justice."
"I'm curious, Miss Shanklin. The Marquis de Lafayette. Generals Kosciuszko and Pulaski...they all came from Europe to aid the American colonists' fight for independence from the British Empire. What do you suppose would have happened if they'd proposed afterward to divide North America between France and Poland?"
The snickering schoolboy, the Oxford scholar, the teasing gadfly—all these had disappeared; in their flashing, prismatic place was a strong, slim figure of intensely male beauty. It was like seeing an opal turn to diamond.
The tall one, with his long bony limbs and ginger hair, looked like a metal farm implement left to rust in a field.
"One thing ab out the Middle East seems certain: another army is always waiting, just around the bend."
War after war, I thought. Generations of boys growing up with weapons as toys and no one but warriors to admire...
"Nothing here is easy. Blood feuds are never settled or forgotten. Compromise is all but impossible. If a tribe is weak, they say, How can we yield anything to our enemies? If a tribe is strong, they ask, Why should we yield anything to our enemies?"
Dust rises at every step, fine as flour. It is dried river silt, that dust. Add water, and the soil is so fertile that you could plant a pencil and harvest a book.
It's funny, isn't it, how you can be so different when you're away from home? Then, surrounded by familiar people and things, you slip right back into all your habits, as though you were pulling on an old woolen cardigan: stretched out and unflattering, but comfortable and soft.
The stock market was like Old Faithful, regularly spouting fortunes. Playing it was fun—like being paid to shop! And it was a social event, as well: someplace convivial to go, like a bridge club but infinitely more exciting. There were the ticker tapes with their exotic alphabetical symbols, clattering along like racehorses. You had to read them in a rush, and the ladies who could decipher them the quickest were held in high esteem.
Rarely has so much been decided by so few to the detriment of so many as in that fancy hotel back in 1921.
A forty-year-old schoolteacher from Ohio still reeling from the tragedies of the Great War and the influenza epidemic comes into a modest inheritance that allows her to take the trip of a lifetime to Egypt and the Holy Land. Arriving at the Semiramis Hotel, site of the 1921 Cairo Peace Conference, she meets Winston Churchill, T. E. Lawrence, and Lady Gertrude Bell. With her plainspoken American opinions, she becomes a sounding board for these historic luminaries who will, in the space of a few days, invent the nations of Iraq, Syria, Lebanon, Israel, and Jordan. While neither a pawn or a participant at the conference, she is drawn into the geopolitical intrigue surrounding the conference.
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After suffering the loss of her family in the Great War, and the resulting Flu epidemic, school-teacher Agner Shanklin decides to go on the trip of a lifetime, to Egypt, where she meets with some famous figures.
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5
Two things keep Dreamers of the Day from joining Russell's other books among my absolute favorites --
1) Agnes Shanklin often seems a mere vessel to convey historical facts and opinions on colonization decisions. The main character is more properly T.E. Lawrence. By necessity, historical fiction contains true historical figures, and Russell has clearly done her homework, never misattributing opinions. Nevertheless, Lawrence and other historical figures (Gertrude Bell, Winston Churchill and others) in starring roles makes the book feel less like a novel and more like a fictionalized historical text.
2) The ending was superfluous, silly and totally detracted from the tone of the book. (