Somehow i was hoping for an accident and midnight burial in the backyard but it was just snipbits of spinster’s lives. ( )

“I suppose it was cowardly of me, but I felt that I wanted to be alone, and what better place to choose that the sink, where neither of the men would follow me?”

What a wonderfully wry and humorous look into the mid-century British world of ‘excellent women' this turned out to be. Excellent Women are the quiet, spinsterish women who are depended on to keep the wheels of society turning but are never acknowledged for all they do. Do they ever give the men and 'not so excellent' women who take them for granted a second thought? Yes, they do, and those thoughts are what give this story about the mundane chores and conversations that make up the lives of excellent women a delightfully subtle bite.

There is so much going on beneath the surface of this short and, at first glance, simple book I think I could read it again and again and barely skim its surface. ( )

(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.)

Mildred Lathbury, the protagonist of Barbara Pym's most accessible novel, is - I think - often used as a stand-in for Pym herself, even though I can't quite imagine Mildred having some of Barbara's youthful indiscretions. Certainly, though, I sometimes feel I am Mildred... and I'm a thirtysomething male! Perhaps this is the success of Excellent Women.

The worlds of Barbara Pym novels are usually small; here, indeed, we centre around a youngish spinster, her vicar and his sister, and a collection of anthropologists who have spent so much time examining the practices of other cultures that they are loath to entirely commit to the standard practices of their own. Pym's insight is as sharp as a pin, and her wit stabs like one too.

I sometimes hear Pym compared to another classic 20th century Brit, Anthony Powell (whom she read frequently) but I think there is a clear difference. Powell's characters, in his legendary A Dance to the Music of Time sequence, seem to be in the process of realising that life isn't entirely the tea party privileged young white people are promised. Pym's characters, on the other hand, open the book already aware of this. It is our privilege to watch them deal with this understanding, and seek a way to move forward in spite of it. Mildred's feeling on having to share a bathroom with fellow tenants at her stage in life, for example, is not quite horror, it's just resignation with a hint of self-doubt, and an occasional flutter (usually suppressed) of hope for a better outcome in future.

Amidst the barbs and sighs of Pym's characters, we are witnessing a fantastic cultural document, an entire world unfolding before our eyes. And in every interaction, the missed moments, the unintentional disparagement, the self-doubt amplified into pain and suffering. Unusually for a Pym novel, Excellent Women is in the first person, meaning that we miss out on one of her most sublime talents, an almost post-modern approach to point-of-view, where the author flits disarmingly between characters, allowing us to adapt to one way of thinking before we are rudely reminded that what is logical to one person is absurdity to another.

"Bittersweet" is an easy adjective to describe the end of most of Pym's novels, but perhaps - like the post-war rationing English cuisine that fills her early books - the taste is better described as "tasty but practical". Not overly rich, sometimes making do with a substitute ingredient, and a cheap bottle of wine from the store down the street to go with one's solitary meal. But you know (most of the time) that things will feel a bit better in the morning, with crumpets and tea by the fire. ( )

The Queen of England died in the north-too-distant past, and I came across Barbara Pym in one of the articles I read about her life and, I suppose, English society in general. This book is said to be an updated Austen type comedy of manners. Given the setting (post WWII England) that is a bit of a stretch, but I do understand the comparison.

The book centers on a slice of the life of Mildred Lathbury, one of the title's 'excellent women' who are single and often overlooked for the important role they play in society. Mildred lives in a flat with neighbors Julian and Winifred Malory, and we are quickly introduced to the Napiers, new neighbors who become entwined in Mildred's life. We have access to Mildred's musings, so come to know her well.

The book is supposed to be a comedy of manners, but I did not find much amusing about it. I suppose that is because I live in such a different time, when single women often live rich and fulfilling lives. But back then, in post WWII England, things were quite different. I'm supposing that the male population was greatly reduced post WWII, and these sorts of stories about single women rang true. I felt that Mildred lived a happy enough life, but not particularly proactive about seeking her own happiness. Given the times, this doesn't seem unusual. But, for me, it's sad. ( )

I was glad that this picked up in atmosphere towards the end. Mildred Lathbury seemed so sad, not really happy with her circumstances. She seemed to perk up as time went by. There were some delightful moments. But this is not one with everything tied up in a bow at the end. ( )