50 pages • 1 hour read
Helen SimonsonA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Content Warning: This section of the guide includes discussion of ableism and death.
Klaus Ziegler, a waiter at the Meredith Hotel in the seaside town of Hazelbourne, feels that Constance Haverhill, companion to the grand lady, Mrs. Eleanor Fog, has too much freedom. Though she seems “respectable enough,” she is often unchaperoned. When she arrives, alone, at the Grand Dining Room, he cannot seat her. He apologizes, offering to have food sent to her room, as he obliged to maintain the “ragged standards” left after the war. She understands, causing him to reflect on the value of these standards. Before the war, a German waiter commanded respect; now, Klaus is encouraged to speak as little as possible.
Constance pretends to admire the lobby flowers while processing the sting of her rejection. She is a companion to Mrs. Fog, the mother of Lady Mercer, who was an old schoolmate of Constance’s own mother. Lady Mercer married a lord, while Constance’s mother married a farmer. Constance’s rejection from the dining room draws her uncertainty about her future into sharp focus. In the lobby, she overhears another young woman being denied service by the undermanager. Constance offers to join her if a companion is all that is needed, but the undermanager explains that ladies are served on the Palm Terrace and only if they are wearing “afternoon attire.” The young woman, Poppy Wirrall, is wearing trousers tucked into tall black boots, with her helmet and goggles beside her on the table. When Poppy asks Constance to loan her a skirt, Constance agrees, eager to speak with such an interesting person.
Constance’s wardrobe is populated mostly by the cast-offs of Lady Mercer’s daughter, Rachel. Constance and Rachel call each other “cousin,” though they are not close. Poppy’s father died recently of the 1918 influenza virus, as did Constance’s mother and infant nephew. Poppy invites Constance to dinner with her family, insisting that she’d be doing Poppy a favor. Her mother and brother, who lost a leg in the war, will be there. Tired of feeling dull, Constance agrees.
That night, Klaus is surprised to see Constance dining with the Wirralls, but when she smiles in friendly recognition, he becomes instantly smitten. He believes that Mrs. Wirrall, a former stage actress and widow of a baronet, is only slightly better as a chaperone than none at all. Poppy teases her brother, Harris, suggesting that the Army amputated his sense of humor as well as his leg, and Harris explains that Poppy loves to “shock.” He dismisses Constance as a “relentlessly cheerful and useful” woman who “[s]oldier[s] on to keep the home front going and all that” (19), wounding her feelings. She had planned to go to university before her father died but was persuaded to remain at home to care for her mother. They moved into a cottage on the Mercers’ estate, but six months after Constance’s mother died, Lady Mercer suggested that it was time for Constance to go live with her brother. Now, under Mrs. Wirrall’s pitying gaze, Constance understands why women choose to maintain the “fiction of comfortable respectability” (21). She explains that she serves Mrs. Fog as a family favor, though she did help run the Mercers’ estate during the war. The Wirralls introduce Constance to Sam Newcombe, Tom Morris, and Tom’s twin sisters, Guinevere and Evangeline, who wear short, modern dresses and their hair stylishly cropped. While Guinevere is courteous and friendly, Evangeline is somewhat rude and lacks warmth.
Constance returns to the rooms she shares with Mrs. Fog, telling the older woman about her new acquaintances. While Mrs. Fog used to be traditional, Constance notes that being so ill seems to have changed her perspective on life, softening her. Now, she plays cards with any ladies who will join her rather than insisting on knowing who they and their families are. Mrs. Fog tells Constance that she must “seize life” and escape the Mercers before they use her up. After Mrs. Fog falls asleep, Constance finds a sealed and addressed letter, and she collects it to post the next morning. She notes that it is directed to a Miss de Champney at an unfamiliar local address.
The Royal Navy tries to tow a stranded German U-boat from the beach, and everyone comes to watch, but the submarine proves too heavy to move. Back at the hotel, Poppy waits to take Constance to the Wirralls’ estate, Penneston. Her motorcycle is parked out front, an advertisement for her “lady chauffeurs” business on the sidecar. A man asks where her husband is, and one woman suggests that such jobs should be left to the men. Constance is nervous, but once they get going, she enjoys herself immensely. When they arrive, Poppy takes Constance to the barn and introduces her to Tilly Mulford and Iris Brenner. The trio were dispatch riders in the war and have founded the Hazelbourne Ladies Motorcycle Club. Iris and Poppy live in the barn, though Tilly still works part-time as a librarian, which her mother deems more “respectable.” They discuss the differences between men and women in the postwar era, and Iris suggests that women are more resilient. Tilly remarks that male amputees are denied jobs, despite being perfectly capable. Iris predicts a new law that will prohibit women from taking jobs that men can do. The women discuss racy books, club business, and the dictates of social gentility with humor, which Constance enjoys. They want the club to participate in the Victory Day parade but realize that they will have to dress in a “feminine” way so as not to irritate or offend the public.
Harris recalls how life seemed to brim with possibility before the war. Now, he feels broken. When he went to see about flying for Tom’s family business—Hazelbourne Aviation—a few weeks ago, Tom’s father treated him as though he were incapable. Harris explained that nothing impedes him from handling a plane. He wants to provide lessons, but Mayor Morris thinks that it would be “too taxing.” Harris watches Poppy and Constance pull up, noting Constance’s upper-class demeanor, and he reflects on how the war showed him that “character [i]s worth more than pedigree” (61). The three walk in the garden, and Constance admits that she was sorry when she had to stop running the Mercer estate, as she truly enjoyed it. Harris realizes how much he likes talking with her. He drives them back to the Meredith on Poppy’s bike.
Working for Mrs. Fog, Constance has a lot of free time, for which she’s grateful. She introduces Mrs. Fog to the Wirralls, and Mrs. Fog agrees to go for a spin in Poppy’s sidecar. Talk of it enlivens her conversation for the rest of the day. Constance writes to her friend, Patricia, who works in a London accounting office, to see if she can help Constance get an interview. When she goes to mail it, the front desk gives her a letter for Mrs. Fog, whose old friend, Mathilde de Champney, invites her to visit. Curiously, Mrs. Fog asks Constance to keep this a secret. She hires Poppy to drive her there. Meanwhile, the Hazelbourne Victory Committee meets to discuss what to do about the immovable German U-boat.
Since Mrs. Fog will be away, she asks Poppy if Mrs. Wirrall can chaperone Constance at the evening’s tea dance. Later, Constance, Poppy, Mrs. Wirrall, Evangeline, and Guinevere discuss the men in their circle. Sam’s feelings for Poppy are obvious, but she believes that he’ll never possess the courage to tell her. When a particularly persistent would-be suitor bothers Constance, Harris asks her to accompany him to the balcony. Later, Poppy explains that Harris and Evangeline were engaged once but that it “quietly lapsed” after the war. Sam invites the group to a beach picnic that weekend, and Harris introduces them to Captain Kumar Pendra of the Royal Flying Corps and his colleague Mr. Nag Basu. Captain Pendra is courteous and warm, while Mr. Basu is more irritable and short-tempered. Mrs. Wirrall was a friend of the late Maharajah of Kochi Benar, the Indian state from which Captain Pendra and Mr. Basu hail, when he convalesced in Hazelbourne some years prior.
Constance and Poppy enjoy the freedom of the beach, and Poppy explains how much she enjoyed her work during wartime. When the Penneston renovations are complete, Mrs. Wirrall will host a ball, though Guinevere and Evangeline lament the lack of young men with whom they can dance. Constance sees that the Morris girls enjoy their social status but lack Tilly’s compassion or character. Evangeline shivers when she thinks of Harris’s “wooden leg hanging on the bedpost at night,” and her friends call her “pitiless” (102). She says that life is too short to “settle.” Tom says that idle days are what they fought for, but Poppy insists that some of them would rather contribute to the nation. Tom suggests that working is “still novel” to women, who can simply marry if they tire of it. Poppy points out the double standards that limit women’s opportunities, and Iris explains how these contribute to female hardship. The group laughs off the choice that some women must make between work and marriage, but it’s not a joke to Constance.
Tuesday is Klaus’s day off. There are no German businesses left now, so he sits on a bench across from a bakery that used to belong to Otto Kuchner; it is now Wilson and Sons, British Bakery. He recalls how British sentiment changed toward Germans prior to the war. Klaus loved Otto’s daughter, Odile, but Otto insisted that Odile marry an Englishman for her safety. Though Klaus is a naturalized British citizen, he was sent to an internment camp for six months before his case was reviewed and was released. He visits Odile, and when she sees him, she weeps. She invites him in, and he meets her children, though her parents returned to Germany. Both Klaus and Odile feel stuck, unable to go back or move forward.
In this opening part, the novel establishes the cast of characters, their circumstances and back stories, and the network of relationships that develop throughout the narrative. Simonson’s use of figurative language especially helps to quickly give life to her characters and their dynamics as she introduces them to the reader. After Constance meets the unconventional Poppy, she realizes that she is “suddenly tired of being a dull moth” (14). Although she felt comfortable in her brown wool dress before, Constance is now struck by how staid and old-fashioned she appears. She has lived quietly, caring for others as expected and giving up her own ambitions. Instead of a bright butterfly, a symbol of life and vitality, Constance thinks of herself as a “dull moth”: muted and unexciting. The juxtaposition of Poppy and Constance sets up the stark difference between the two women, which will drive much of the interest in their growing friendship and impact on one another’s lives. The narrator compares Poppy to “an eccentric child always bringing home stray puppies, injured sparrows, and jars of frog spawn” (17). The simile highlights Poppy’s quirkiness, openness, and interest in others. She seems guileless and childlike. Meanwhile, Harris laments the loss of his child self, full of hope and adventurousness: “[T]hat boy was gone, sloughed off like an old snakeskin” (56). When he recalls Mr. Morris’s rejection, “humiliation […] curl[s] like a poisonous smog through his body” (57). The first simile suggests that he grew out of his youthful boldness and joy in an irreversible way, while the second connotes a dreadful, insidious, pervasive feeling of unease when he recalls the man’s unwillingness to let him fly again. All of these images help to efficiently communicate the nature of the characters and the socio-historical context of the novel.
The novel explores ambivalent and prejudiced attitudes toward women in the early 20th century, introducing the themes of Social Pressure for Female Respectability and The Arbitrary Nature of Gender Roles. It establishes these tensions partly through Harris’s dialogue and inner monologue, juxtaposed with the female characters’ experiences and ideas. Harris’s male privilege influences his view of women, just as it does for other male characters, and this is compounded by his inner vulnerability as a veteran living with an amputation. Although the novel therefore displays the reasons for his misogyny in a complex and compassionate way, his early character encapsulates a common strand of gender attitudes at the time. Upon their first meeting, Harris rudely dismisses Constance’s optimism, causing her to wish “just for once, that a man might praise the ‘home front’ efforts of women and actually mean it” (20). His early negative attitudes are a starting point for the theme of Perspective Created by Loss, as these are largely the result of war trauma. The development of Harris’s character into a man who has increased respect for women’s varied abilities will underpin the novel’s romantic narrative arc.
This early part also establishes the novel’s focus on gender roles in a changing world through the female experience. While Constance took over the running of the Mercer estate, Poppy, Tilly, and Iris worked as dispatch riders—cold, exhausting, unrelenting work—and Iris spent two years as a nurse in France. However, none of them are credited for it by men or the wider society, and Constance’s work went unpaid. Further, now that Poppy tries to run a business that allows women—some of whom are widows—to continue earning, she is criticized for being unfeminine or for giving women jobs that “ought” to go to men. Tom asks, “Working is still novel for you women, is it not?” and points out that women can “always marry” if they tire of it (106), suggesting that women are like children with a new toy. He fails to realize how being unable to find gainful employment can financially ruin a woman, like Constance, and characterizes marriage as an easy default. However, he doesn’t address the lack of men due to heavy losses in the war or the fact that some women don’t want to marry or might not have any good options. Even sweet Sam is dismissive when he expresses appreciation for the “[w]ar effort won at home and all that” (106). Tom sees the expectation that he earn his living as a disadvantage and fails to recognize how women’s options for work are so limited as to cause them hardship or compel them to marry someone whom they do not love.
The male characters’ oversights and dismissals of women reflect social insistence on female respectability and the arbitrary nature of gender roles, which become quite apparent in the post-WWI era. Even while Klaus maintains the “ragged standards” remaining after the war, he questions them, having also been subject to society’s caprices. It strikes him that a “quiet young woman eating tonight’s chicken quenelles behind a potted palm” would be no more “scandalous than the women who would come later in the evening” displaying their decolletages over mock turtle soup (4). That these women should be considered more “respectable” than Constance, simply because they have more money or glamour and will dine with men, is ironic. Lady Mercer also capitulates to the standard of female respectability when she insists that Constance can no longer live alone on their estate and should go to her brother’s after her mother’s death. While Mrs. Wirrall enjoys hotel living, she concedes that it wouldn’t be “entirely respectable for a young woman [such as Constance] to live in such transient circumstances” (21). The patterning of these details adds to the novel’s socio-historical context, which is integral to its themes.
Likewise, though women are applauded—sometimes condescendingly—for their wartime efforts at home, they are expected to submissively retreat to make room for the men who return: “‘You see, it was all very well and patriotic when we were freeing up men for the services,’ [says] Iris. ‘But now we are just behaving oddly and diminishing our chances of snatching up one of the few available husbands’” (51). What was commendable during the war has become unacceptable now that the war is over. Mrs. Wirrall even tells Poppy that “[i]t’s not ladylike to pay any attention to business” (25), though it certainly wasn’t considered unladylike when women’s employment supported the nation at war. To Klaus, who experienced a similar sense of disorientation from the dramatically different treatment he received before, during, and after the war, “[e]verything [i]s confusing now” (4). The old standards don’t make sense the way they once did because the new reality demonstrates how these standards are not based on fact but rather social constructs. It makes no sense that he should be treated poorly simply because he has a German accent, as he had nothing to do with the war. Nor does it stand to reason that a young woman should be prevented from eating alone in public simply because she has no companion. The “rules” governing what is acceptable for men and women’s behavior or those that determine who is “respectable” seem much more arbitrary now that the war has shown everyone a different reality. Klaus’s character personifies the ambivalence and confusion often caused by the acceleration of social change at this time. His experiences also provide a parallel perspective to the primary gendered dynamics of the novel—one that explores cultural and national tensions and prejudice. The development of Klaus’s character at this early stage, especially as a sympathetic and melancholy figure, sets up the pathos of his murder later in the novel.
By Helen Simonson