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"An instant bestseller when it was published in 1930, this glittering satire of Edwardian high society features a privileged brother and sister torn between tradition and a chance at an independent life. Sebastian is young, handsome, moody, and the heir to Chevron, a vast and opulent ducal estate. He feels a deep love for the countryside and for his patrimony, but he loathes the frivolous social world his mother and her shallow friends represent. At one of his mother's decadent house parties, Sebastian meets two people who shake his sense of self: Leonard Anquetil, a lowborn arctic explorer, who questions his mode of living; and Lady Roehampton, a married society beauty with a string of lovers, who breaks his heart. When Sebastian reaches the brink of despair, it is his self-possessed younger sister, Viola, who opens for them both a gateway to another world"-- "Classic satirical novel portraying high society in England during the Edwardian period"--… (more)
User reviews
The young duke, awakened to the creaking weight of his position in an outdated society, becomes aware of society's flaws: its false morality, its stifling traditions, its heavy yet unnecessary responsibilities and repetitive pleasures. He begins to react to some things as we might in his place - I think of the little scene where Sebastian (the young duke) has just popped in to chat kindly to an old retainer of his, and told him he would be raising his pay to an extra five shillings a week. The old retainer is profusely pleased and grateful. "{Sebastian} felt, rather, that it was he who should thank the old man for rising at five o'clock every morning and for walking three miles, that the bath should be hot by eight and the fires fed throughout the day." Unfortunately, that quote taken out of context seems dreadfully heavy-handed and preachy - please believe that in context, it is not.
It's essentially a story about a young man exploring the world as it is for him, thinking about it, rebelling against and accepting it, sometimes playing with it recklessly, sometimes submitting to its tyranny. It's about a young man of great rank and fortune, intelligent and questioning, living within a society that is doomed, and is beginning to suspect that that doom is approaching.
It is also not merely about Sebastian - in fact the book is broken into seven parts, all except the first are named after the other characters who profoundly influence him, and are influenced by him. The first part is named after Chevron, the Duke's nostalgically beautiful country seat. The others are Anquetil, a free-thinking working-class explorer who first awakens Sebastian to these rebellious ideas; Sylvia, Sebastian's first lover, an older woman of rank; and Teresa, a middle-class doctor's wife fascinated by high society. (Several of the seven parts are headed by the same names.) We see things through the eyes of these characters too, and they tend to mirror and explore our own reactions to things which only seem natural to Sebastian.
In some ways, this book is not unlike Forster’s A Room with a View - set in the same period but within a different class of society, it explores the same themes of awakening and rebellion among the young and privileged in that paradoxical decade before WW1.
It's set in the early 1900s - before WW1. There's much description of house parties, the social scene in London and it ends with the coronation of George V. And really it does seem terribly antiquated and far removed from reality when you read it. A kind of snapshot into another era.
Except I was reading it just as we were waiting for the Windsors to announce the birth of the third in line to the throne, so it added a certain poignancy to the reading. Or vice versa - I'm not sure which.
One is much struck with how much things have changed. And how much they haven't. By the by, I also saw "Before Midnight" yesterday which for the large part was excruciatingly annoying but had a few good moments. One of them was when an elderly gent intoned something along the lines of "Every generation thinks the end of the world is nigh or going to pot or some such". And certainly that is the case with [The Edwardians]. The older generation is deeply concerned at the loss of the perceived values of the younger set - the rise of the middle classes and the decay of the upper classes. As we sat on our sofas in our lounge rooms waiting for the announcement of the birth we too were tut tutting that the media had ruined everything and how ridiculous it all was - and yet we watched....
Most of the story is taken up with Sebastian's internal struggle to accept his fate as part of the peerage. He chafes at the "prison" that his accident of birth has dictated. He becomes embroiled in a series of unsuitable attachments whilst relishing his role as lord of the estate, tramping through the grounds with his faithful hounds. Will he find a good match? Will he settle down?
I found the last chapter particularly riveting and it concluded very satisfactorily - as often happens in life - with the line "The coach came to a standstill in Grosvenor Square" just as my very own train came to a standstill at Roma Street Station after my holiday in Woodgate. Back to reality and work on Tuesday!
Sackville-West, who certainly knew the ins and outs of high society, delivers a subtle but scathing critique of her own kind. While I can't say that I was blown away by The Edwardians, it was an interesting portrait of the duller side of the aritsocracy, with even a little sympathy for their lot thrown in.
The Edwardians is set in 1905 and
The plot isn’t very original or groundbreaking, but what it lacks is more than made up for in the characters that populate this book. Vita Sackville-West’s novel gives it’s reader a little taste of upper-class, aristocratic society in the early 20th century—and she reveals the good and the bad of this kind of world. All of her characters, even the superficial and shallow ones, are well drawn, and probably very true to life considering that Vita Sackville-West knew this world very well. Sebastian and Viola seem to experiment with everything that is deviant from the world into which they were born; but it’s all a part of the growing-up process for them.
Vita Sackville’s message about the shallowness of the trappings of the upper-class lifestyle in Edwardian England also comes across strongly; sometimes too strongly. Also, the decision that Sebastian makes at the end seems a little too rushed (I understand why he makes that decision, but it seems too impetuous). As I’ve said, though, Sackville-West’s writing moves very smoothly, and her characters are very real and believable. Sackville-West was very perceptive about the world of which she wrote, and it shows through in this novel.
They
The author wrote what she knew, and at the very beginning of the book she notes that:
“No character in this book is wholly fictitious.”
If you have knowledge of her and her circle you will appreciate that; and understand that she is looking back at the world that she grew up in, comparing it with the world that her mother knew and the very different world that her children knew; and knowing that, while she loved it dearly, it was fatally flawed.
But it doesn’t matter if you know nothing at all, because the book is such a lovely period piece.
The story opens in 1905, with Sebastian, the nineteen year-old Duke of Chevron ascending to the roof of his country home to escape the guests at his mother’s house party. She loves society, while Sebastian isn’t quite sure how he feels. He is drawn to the glamour of his mother’s social set, but he can’t help being aware of how shallow their lives and their values really are.
His estate, Chevron, is a working estate, and Sebastian loved everything he can see and hear from his high vantage point.
“The whole community of the great house was humming at its work. In the stables, men were grooming horses; in the ‘shops’, the carpenters plane sent the wood-chips flying, the diamond of the glazier hissed on the glass; in the forge, the hammer rang in the anvil, and the bellows windily sighed … Sebastian heard the music and saw the vision. It was a tapestry that he saw, and heard the strains of a wind orchestra.”
It had been that way for hundreds of years, with sons following their fathers into the shops to learn a trade, and with positions within the house filled by the daughters and nieces of those already employed; with staff claiming – and constrained by – their inheritance just as much as the family they served.
All of this is so vividly evoked, and the early chapters are rich with details of the life of the house, the party arrangements, the family, and a veritable army of servants.
One of the weekend visitors to Chevron, Leonard Antequil, didn’t belong to that world; but his adventurous life, including a winter spent alone in a snow hut in the Arctic Circle, and had brought him fame and made him a very desirable guest for the fashionable set.
It may not have occurred to the other guests that he was there as the result of his own of his efforts while they were there only by chance of birth or marriage. Or that he thought little of them.
One night Sebastian invited him up onto the roof, and he spoke to him openly and honestly, sensing his dissatisfaction and urging him to recognise the limitations of his lifestyle and to consider breaking with tradition.
“Very well, if you want the truth, here it is. The society you live in is composed of people who are both dissolute and prudent. They want to have their fun, and they want to keep their position. They glitter on the surface, but underneath the surface they are stupid – too stupid to recognise their own motives. They know only a limited number of things about themselves: that they need plenty of money, and that they must be seen in the right places, associated with the right people. In spite of their efforts to turn themselves into painted images, they remain human somewhere, and must indulge in love-affairs, which are sometimes artificial, and sometimes inconveniently real. Whatever happens the world must be served first.”
Sebastian is torn between his deep love of his home and his knowledge of the truth of Antequil’s words.
The arguments are beautifully expressed and perfectly balanced.
Sebastian regretfully declines Antequil’s invitation to accompany him on his next trip; but he never forgets their conversation.
He is seduced by an older woman, a society beauty of his mother’s generation; when their affair is ended by an ultimatum from her husband he drifts into a shallow life as a man about time; and then he draws a middle-class doctor’s wife into his life, and makes the mistake of inviting her to Chevron ….
“He had tried the most fashionable society, and he had tried the middle-class, and in both his plunging spirit had got stuck in the glue of convention and hypocrisy.”
All of this says much about Sebastian’s world; but it isn’t quite as engaging as those early chapters about life at the family estate.
Meanwhile, the world was changing.
Sebastian’s sister, Viola, knew that, and she was glad.
“For what have our mothers thought of us, all these years?” said Viola; “that we should make a good marriage, so that they might feel that they had done their duty by us, and were rid of their responsibility with an added pride. A successful daughter plus an eligible son-in-law. Any other possibility never entered their heads – that we might consult our own tastes for instance ….”
The author knew that.
The first defection at Chevron, when the head-carpenter’s son chooses a job in the new motor industry rather than follow his father into Chevron’s shops, illustrated that beautifully.
Sebastian was caught up with his own concerns, he was unhappy, but an encounter with Leonard Antequil on the day of the coronation of George V made him realise that he could change his life.
But would he?
I can’t say, and there are lots of details that I haven’t shared.
I loved this book: the prose, the conviction, the wealth of detail, the depiction of society.
That’s not to say it’s perfect. It’s a little uneven, the structure isn’t strong, and much of what it has to say feels familiar.
But it does so much so well, it has such authenticity, and it is a wonderfully readable period piece.
"Oh that bloody book! I blush to think you read it," wrote Vita to Virginia Woolf, whose press, Hogarth, had published The Edwardians to surprising success. Comparing your work to Woolf's is an ideal way to torture yourself. In Vita's case, double
Of course, Vita faulted herself too much. In its own right, The Edwardians is quite good. It highlights many of her writing skills, skills that put most modern authors to shame. The weaknesses come in the form of a couple of didactic passages, what some may consider excessive exposition, and a predictable and less an organic ending.
However, these criticisms pale when measured against the many strengths and rewards of the novel. These include an insider's observation of high society at the beginning of the 20th Century, the sexual mores of the British aristocratic class, the societal shift in the run up to World War I, and, for those fascinated by VSW, additional insights into her thinking and view of life.
The story is straightforward. Young aristocratic Sebastian is coming of age and is tormented. He feels trapped in the predictable life he sees laid out for him, lord of the manor and all the obligations and constrictions his duke title entails. He is a tightly wound ball of anger and rebellion, though his expressions of rebellion remain confined within his well-off world. He revolts by having liaisons with various women, the two most important of which are Lady Roehampton, Sylvia, best and girlhood friend of his mother (who quietly is "... quite content that Sebastian should become tanned in the ray's of Sylvia's Indian summer"), and, reaching downward, the middle-class wife of a doctor, Teresa. Sybil devastates him by breaking off the affair at the insistence of her husband, for the sake of propriety. Teresa rejects him when he offends her middleclass values of faithfulness and loyalty, which befuddle and antagonize him. Finally, he seems resigned to spending his life fulfilling the role he was born to. Until, that is, he again meets Anquetil, after participating in the coronation of George V, the ceremony rendered in vivid and enlightening detail by Vita.
Anquetil and Sebastian become acquainted early in the novel. Anquetil functions as a critical observer of upper class society, which he disparages with wit and wonder, and as a catalyst to Sebastian's rebellious spirit, as well as that of Viola, Sebastian's sister. It is in this early chapter where Vita dons her lecture robes, as Anquetil launches into a long, though intriguing, disquisition on the choice before Sebastian. Everybody, not the least Sebastian and Viola, esteem the rough and ready explorer Anquetil, who is something on the order of a Shackleton. Vita, who possesses considerable powers of description, paints him as having "A startling face; pocked, moreover, by little blue freckles, where a charge of gunpower had exploded, as though an amateur tattooist had gone mad ..." His association with Anquetil further riles Sebastian. As for meek and mild Viola, by the conclusion of the novel she reveals herself, to Sebastian's astonishment, as the true rebel.
Strict distinctions divided the upper and lower classes in Victorian and Edwardian England. In the sex department, the upper class believed in exhibiting decorous behavior as an example to the lowers who otherwise might cavort in the manner of rutting animals. As for their own sexual conduct, as The Edwardians illustrates, especially Sebastian's mother planning weekend accommodations for guests at the great country house Chevron and dinner seating arrangements, the uppers regularly switched and shared partners, and (a variation on noblesse oblige, perhaps?) extended an appendage down into the lower ranks. (For a peek at the rich pornographic sub rosas activity of the periods, see, for example, the underground Victorian publication, The Pearl.) When found out by a spouse, usually through an indiscretion that created a buzz too loud to ignore, accommodation usually proved the accepted strategy. Thus, Lady Roehampton gives up Sebastian and at the insistence of her husband George leaves with him for a station in the colonies.
Teresa, the morally cinctured doctor's wife, assiduously adheres to the strict code espoused and flaunted by the upper class. Believing he has wooed her and that she has happily succumbed, her rejection of his sexual advances, made at a Chevron weekend with her husband downstairs playing bridge with the biddies, stuns him.
Vita, you may know, rebelled against most every stricture of accepted sexual and spousal behavior. She conducted numerous lesbian and straight affairs, the most famous and most scandalous with Violet Trefusis. She abhorred being addressed as Mrs. Harold Nicolson and she would burn anyone who attempted calling her such to the ground with a look. A bit of knowledge about Vita will increase your delight in reading most of the social passages in The Edwardians.
In the short introduction, Juliet Nicolson, Vita's granddaughter, focuses on the novel as one of societal change. And, indeed, you'll see this theme thread throughout the novel. The privileged, for the most part, ignored it. The class most dependent upon them lamented it. But some, especially Viola, embraced it enthusiastically.
While on the subject of social and societal upheaval and Vita and Harold's unusual life style (delineated artfully in the superb Portrait of a Marriage), Vita's main character names are very telling. Sebastian and Viola, as you probably know, are the brother and sister in Shakespeare's Twelfth Night. In the comedy, Viola assumes the role of lost Sebastian, dressing like him. And it is Viola in the novel ... well, that's for you to find out. Vita herself often during her affair with Violet dressed as a man, a soldier in fact, and sometimes a wounded one at that. In The Edwardians, you will find how the brother and sister deal with rebellious spirits and change fascinating.
Enough of me prattling on about VSW and The Edwardians: now it is time for you to read and enjoy it.
VSW's
After being crushed by Lady Roehampton's departure, Sebastian tries to seduce the young wife of a London doctor. She is flattered by the attentions of the handsome duke and almost succumbs to his wishes in the silver Queen's Room at Chevron. Only the fear of what "society would say" prevents her from making love with Sebastian on Queen Elizabeth's bed. And she was right. Society would have kicked her to the curb. No discreet withdrawal to the country would have been possible for a middle-class woman.
Phil, the lovely artist's model, didn't give a damn about society and took Sebastian to her bed for the joy of it. When she breaks it off, it is because she said it was time for them to move in; she had no desire to be a part of his circle and he really could not see her as mistress of Chevron, for all of his protests of love.
VSW had great fun writing thinly disguised portraits of the regular visitors to Knole. According to Glendenning's introduction, VSW anticipated her readers trying to attach real names to the characters and making her lots of money in the process. VSW was absolutely right.
The Edwardians has a different fascination for the 21st century reader. Rather than caring about whether or not Lady Roehampton was really Lady Westmoreland, the interest for me was in the dying Edwardian era itself. For example, VSW describes the hours spent by the grand ladies in their dressing room. There were morning dresses and then afternoon dresses or riding clothes or walking clothes. Then there was the all-important toilette for the evening meal with the proper undergarments, tightly laced corset, silk stockings, petticoat, hair, discreet makeup, and jewels. Since it took over an hour to dress for dinner, the statement "We will not dress for dinner tonight" was a genuine boon. What a waste of a woman's time! No wonder they were obsessed by clothes since these beauties were judged by their garments, not their brains.
And then there is the Chevron estate and the grand occasions within its walls. Here is the real core of my interest. The Christmas party for the estate children; the shooting season; the servants' work schedule; the miles of downstairs corridors; the silver furniture in the Queen's Bedroom; the deer in the park; the meals!. VSW is writing about the home she loves and of a time not long dead. This is a final salute.
This is the eyewitness account of a grand house at the time of Downton Abbey. Read it and enjoy a look into period the world will not see again.
It's utterly delicious -- both nostalgic and satiric. If you are a fan of Downtown Abbey -- this is your book. Upstairs, downstairs and all around London town: scandals, Prince Edward (barely mentioned but definitely in the background), affaires de couer, a polar explorer, and emancipated young women -- what's not to like?
It's utterly delicious -- both nostalgic and satiric. If you are a fan of Downtown Abbey -- this is your book. Upstairs, downstairs and all around London town: scandals, Prince Edward (barely mentioned but definitely in the background), affaires de couer, a polar explorer, and emancipated young women -- what's not to like?
Sebastian and Viola represent different sides of the author. Sebastian comes of age through sexual experimentation with different types of women. Vita was herself known for erotic exploits. Viola is smart and independent, which Vita most certainly was as well. Other characters in the novel had parallels to family members and friends who would have been known to readers at the time.
This book was a huge commercial success even as it portrayed the end of an era; in fact, the book ends with the coronation of George V following the death of Edward VII. The book was an interesting sort of set piece, but in many ways a "fluff piece" designed for pleasure reading, much like today's beach reads and romances.
Second time around I was much more in the mood for it. Although not difficult prose to read, I found it needed a certain amount of concentration, and I think
Eventually, once she'd found a flimsy excuse for lining up all the characters in front of the reader, a story did at last begin to emerge. In all it was light-hearted, poking fun at the first world problems of the elite class in the early 20th century. It was particularly interesting to be reading this at a time when there's all the furore over Harry and Meghan; I couldn't help but draw parallels between the young duke Sebastian, who feels very sorry for himself in terms of the pressure to fall in line with expectations for his position, and our own young Duke of Sussex.
Sackville-West wasn't afraid to poke at the unwritten rules and hypocrisies that existed amongst her own class, so in this regard there was something very fresh in her approach. However, ultimately she was no Jane Austen in terms of prose.
3.5 stars - I'm glad I went back to finish it as I enjoyed it well enough, but I doubt I'll think about it for too long.
I'd say this book lacks a little in the way of development, but it captures the struggles of the youthful upper class in this era very well and I really enjoyed reading it and I think it deserves to be more widely read.
"Oh that bloody book! I blush to think you read it," wrote Vita to Virginia Woolf, whose press, Hogarth, had published The Edwardians to surprising success. Comparing your work to Woolf's is an ideal way to torture yourself. In Vita's case, double
Of course, Vita faulted herself too much. In its own right, The Edwardians is quite good. It highlights many of her writing skills, skills that put most modern authors to shame. The weaknesses come in the form of a couple of didactic passages, what some may consider excessive exposition, and a predictable and less an organic ending.
However, these criticisms pale when measured against the many strengths and rewards of the novel. These include an insider's observation of high society at the beginning of the 20th Century, the sexual mores of the British aristocratic class, the societal shift in the run up to World War I, and, for those fascinated by VSW, additional insights into her thinking and view of life.
The story is straightforward. Young aristocratic Sebastian is coming of age and is tormented. He feels trapped in the predictable life he sees laid out for him, lord of the manor and all the obligations and constrictions his duke title entails. He is a tightly wound ball of anger and rebellion, though his expressions of rebellion remain confined within his well-off world. He revolts by having liaisons with various women, the two most important of which are Lady Roehampton, Sylvia, best and girlhood friend of his mother (who quietly is "... quite content that Sebastian should become tanned in the ray's of Sylvia's Indian summer"), and, reaching downward, the middle-class wife of a doctor, Teresa. Sybil devastates him by breaking off the affair at the insistence of her husband, for the sake of propriety. Teresa rejects him when he offends her middleclass values of faithfulness and loyalty, which befuddle and antagonize him. Finally, he seems resigned to spending his life fulfilling the role he was born to. Until, that is, he again meets Anquetil, after participating in the coronation of George V, the ceremony rendered in vivid and enlightening detail by Vita.
Anquetil and Sebastian become acquainted early in the novel. Anquetil functions as a critical observer of upper class society, which he disparages with wit and wonder, and as a catalyst to Sebastian's rebellious spirit, as well as that of Viola, Sebastian's sister. It is in this early chapter where Vita dons her lecture robes, as Anquetil launches into a long, though intriguing, disquisition on the choice before Sebastian. Everybody, not the least Sebastian and Viola, esteem the rough and ready explorer Anquetil, who is something on the order of a Shackleton. Vita, who possesses considerable powers of description, paints him as having "A startling face; pocked, moreover, by little blue freckles, where a charge of gunpower had exploded, as though an amateur tattooist had gone mad ..." His association with Anquetil further riles Sebastian. As for meek and mild Viola, by the conclusion of the novel she reveals herself, to Sebastian's astonishment, as the true rebel.
Strict distinctions divided the upper and lower classes in Victorian and Edwardian England. In the sex department, the upper class believed in exhibiting decorous behavior as an example to the lowers who otherwise might cavort in the manner of rutting animals. As for their own sexual conduct, as The Edwardians illustrates, especially Sebastian's mother planning weekend accommodations for guests at the great country house Chevron and dinner seating arrangements, the uppers regularly switched and shared partners, and (a variation on noblesse oblige, perhaps?) extended an appendage down into the lower ranks. (For a peek at the rich pornographic sub rosas activity of the periods, see, for example, the underground Victorian publication, The Pearl.) When found out by a spouse, usually through an indiscretion that created a buzz too loud to ignore, accommodation usually proved the accepted strategy. Thus, Lady Roehampton gives up Sebastian and at the insistence of her husband George leaves with him for a station in the colonies.
Teresa, the morally cinctured doctor's wife, assiduously adheres to the strict code espoused and flaunted by the upper class. Believing he has wooed her and that she has happily succumbed, her rejection of his sexual advances, made at a Chevron weekend with her husband downstairs playing bridge with the biddies, stuns him.
Vita, you may know, rebelled against most every stricture of accepted sexual and spousal behavior. She conducted numerous lesbian and straight affairs, the most famous and most scandalous with Violet Trefusis. She abhorred being addressed as Mrs. Harold Nicolson and she would burn anyone who attempted calling her such to the ground with a look. A bit of knowledge about Vita will increase your delight in reading most of the social passages in The Edwardians.
In the short introduction, Juliet Nicolson, Vita's granddaughter, focuses on the novel as one of societal change. And, indeed, you'll see this theme thread throughout the novel. The privileged, for the most part, ignored it. The class most dependent upon them lamented it. But some, especially Viola, embraced it enthusiastically.
While on the subject of social and societal upheaval and Vita and Harold's unusual life style (delineated artfully in the superb Portrait of a Marriage), Vita's main character names are very telling. Sebastian and Viola, as you probably know, are the brother and sister in Shakespeare's Twelfth Night. In the comedy, Viola assumes the role of lost Sebastian, dressing like him. And it is Viola in the novel ... well, that's for you to find out. Vita herself often during her affair with Violet dressed as a man, a soldier in fact, and sometimes a wounded one at that. In The Edwardians, you will find how the brother and sister deal with rebellious spirits and change fascinating.
Enough of me prattling on about VSW and The Edwardians: now it is time for you to read and enjoy it.