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Available
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Series
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Publication
London : Penguin Books, 2013.
Description
Behind this rather prim title lies the hilarious fictional diary of a disaster-prone lady of the 1930s, and her attempts to keep her somewhat ramshackle household from falling into chaos: there's her husband Robert, who, when he's not snoozing behind The Times, does everything with grumbling recluctance; her gleefully troublesome children; and a succession of tricky sevants who invariably seem to gain the upper hand. And if her domestic trials are not enough, she must keep up appearances. Particularly with the maddeningly patronising Lady Boxe, whom our Provincial Lady eternally (and unsuccessfully) tries to compete with.
User reviews
LibraryThing member MikeFarquhar
In total contrast to Black Man, read EM Delafield's Diary of a Provincial Lady on the train today. Written in 1930, the Diary is written by an upper-middle class English woman living in Devon, where she has the requisite household of husband, son at boarding school, younger daughter still at home,
At least partly autobiographical, it's caustically written, and for the time, fairly subversive, as the Provincial Lady chafes against the limitations of her station and pours out her inner worries and disquieting thoughts about her world to her diary. It's very much written in the same style as Stella Gibbons' Cold Comfort Farm or Nacncy Mitford's Love in a Cold Climate, from roughly the same time period, and while not as absurd or surreal as that book, it's still very very funny, with a particularly dry sense of humour prevailing throughout. This is the spiritual ancestor to Bridget Jones' Diary, in more ways than one, but the Provincial Lady would have found that book quite shocking.
As well as being funny though, it's also a fascinating glimpse into the period between the wars in what would these days be called 'Middle England' - that very traditional hard-core of non-urban English life that was central to people's idea of what England was.
Not going to be to everyone's taste, but a great little book that had me chuckling contentedly to myself on the train.
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and a small staff of Governess (the very French Mademoiselle), Cook, and housemaid. As befits a woman of her time, she does not work, but runs the household and engages in suitable activities, such as the Woman's Institute and the local church.At least partly autobiographical, it's caustically written, and for the time, fairly subversive, as the Provincial Lady chafes against the limitations of her station and pours out her inner worries and disquieting thoughts about her world to her diary. It's very much written in the same style as Stella Gibbons' Cold Comfort Farm or Nacncy Mitford's Love in a Cold Climate, from roughly the same time period, and while not as absurd or surreal as that book, it's still very very funny, with a particularly dry sense of humour prevailing throughout. This is the spiritual ancestor to Bridget Jones' Diary, in more ways than one, but the Provincial Lady would have found that book quite shocking.
As well as being funny though, it's also a fascinating glimpse into the period between the wars in what would these days be called 'Middle England' - that very traditional hard-core of non-urban English life that was central to people's idea of what England was.
Not going to be to everyone's taste, but a great little book that had me chuckling contentedly to myself on the train.
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LibraryThing member Bookoholic73
This is a treat!
Especially if you like English humour, self-irony and Bridget Jones. Inspite of it being purely fictional and published as a satire, there is so much I recognise from my own life, so even though times change, I guess that human nature doesn´t.
Especially if you like English humour, self-irony and Bridget Jones. Inspite of it being purely fictional and published as a satire, there is so much I recognise from my own life, so even though times change, I guess that human nature doesn´t.
LibraryThing member SimonW11
This is an omnibus edition comprising
The Diary of a Provincial Lady
and its 3 sequels which deal with her advenures in London ,America. and the early part of the second world war the "phoney war".
Especially annoying in a library book that I had ordered and therefore could only retain for a limited
The Diary of a Provincial Lady
and its 3 sequels which deal with her advenures in London ,America. and the early part of the second world war the "phoney war".
Especially annoying in a library book that I had ordered and therefore could only retain for a limited
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time was the introduction's reccomendation not to read them back to back. It is gently amusing move up the social ladder from last months period piece. depicting a left leaning feminist of the time as she does her best to move through the social minefields. Show Less
LibraryThing member otterley
Enjoyable and fascinating window into another world - and at the same time very reminiscent of a lot of modern newspaper columns, from Bridget Jones onwards, both stylistically and in content..
LibraryThing member Welshwoman
I've had this book for so long that I can't remember when I first bought it and read it. Suffice it to say, since then I've read it countless times and never failed to laugh out loud. It's the ideal cure for the blues.
LibraryThing member shirley8
Really enjoyed this book,I laughed out loud at some of her thoughts and observations! Lovely to read she had her own bank account and continously over drawn and making regular trips to the pawnbroker to please the bank manager! The amount of time spent away from her husband was quite surprising
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including her trip to America on her own,very liberating for the time. Will have to read more of her books now. Show Less
LibraryThing member edwinbcn
The Diary of a Provincial Lady is just the absolutely most boring book. The first 80 pages or so, are kind of OK, from the historical point of view, as the reader gets a peek into the interbellum; Naturally, nothing ever happens in the life of a provincial lady, even one with literary aspirations,
I wouldn't know what readers then or now could get out of it, except as a way of passing the time.
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so the book is a chain series of gossip + husband + reading list. The provincial lady mainly reads a lot of second, and third-rate novels from the Edwardian era to her own time.I wouldn't know what readers then or now could get out of it, except as a way of passing the time.
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LibraryThing member mahallett
diary of a provincial lady
the provincial lady goes further
the provincial lady in america
the provincial lady in wartime
the provincial lady goes further
the provincial lady in america
the provincial lady in wartime
LibraryThing member Bagpuss
I picked this book up in Frome library when I’d just popped in to return something and it caught my eye (I later found it on my Amazon wish list, added several years ago!). I didn’t realise this edition was only the first part until I went into Waterstone’s in Exeter and spotted it on the
The Diary of a Provincial Lady is very loosely based on the life of the author - her pen name was a play-on-words of her real name - Edmée Elizabeth Monica de la Pasture - and is told in diary form (a sort of forerunner to Bridget Jones’s Diary?!). It tells of the day-to-day life of the titular lady, her long-suffering, dour, husband Robert and two lively and energetic children, Robin and Vicky, an upper-middle class family living in rural Devon and, at times, struggling to keep up socially with their neighbours. This, the first diary, is set before World War Two.
Although loosely autobiographical, Delafield actually lived quite a comfortable life and was a debutante in 1909. She was asked by the editor of the British magazine Time and Tide to write a series for them and this was the result!
The Provincial Lady moves in social circles that are often slightly higher than her own, necessitating very careful juggling of her finances (including the occasional discrete visit to the pawnbroker) and chronicles her exploits with the locals and an endless stream of visitors to the house.
I wasn’t really sure what to expect. I did think it might be a bit dull – or maybe something suited to an older person (which just goes to show that one should never judge a book without trying it) so I was happily surprised to find it was an entertaining read which had me chuckling out loud in places including such gems as…
(taking about a letter from Lady B saying she’s only just heard the PL has measles)
“[Lady B writes] She cannot come herself to enquire, as with so many visitors always coming and going it wouldn’t be wise, but if I want anything from the House, I am to telephone without hesitation. She has given ‘her people’ orders that anything I ask for is to be sent up. Have a very good mind to telephone and ask for a pound of tea and Lady B’s pearl necklace – (Could Cleopatra be quoted as precedent here?) – and see what happens.”
I imagine that it will get a bit ‘samey’ but I very much enjoyed this and I am definitely going to read the other parts of it.
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shelf – four times the size I was expecting! The Diary of a Provincial Lady is very loosely based on the life of the author - her pen name was a play-on-words of her real name - Edmée Elizabeth Monica de la Pasture - and is told in diary form (a sort of forerunner to Bridget Jones’s Diary?!). It tells of the day-to-day life of the titular lady, her long-suffering, dour, husband Robert and two lively and energetic children, Robin and Vicky, an upper-middle class family living in rural Devon and, at times, struggling to keep up socially with their neighbours. This, the first diary, is set before World War Two.
Although loosely autobiographical, Delafield actually lived quite a comfortable life and was a debutante in 1909. She was asked by the editor of the British magazine Time and Tide to write a series for them and this was the result!
The Provincial Lady moves in social circles that are often slightly higher than her own, necessitating very careful juggling of her finances (including the occasional discrete visit to the pawnbroker) and chronicles her exploits with the locals and an endless stream of visitors to the house.
I wasn’t really sure what to expect. I did think it might be a bit dull – or maybe something suited to an older person (which just goes to show that one should never judge a book without trying it) so I was happily surprised to find it was an entertaining read which had me chuckling out loud in places including such gems as…
(taking about a letter from Lady B saying she’s only just heard the PL has measles)
“[Lady B writes] She cannot come herself to enquire, as with so many visitors always coming and going it wouldn’t be wise, but if I want anything from the House, I am to telephone without hesitation. She has given ‘her people’ orders that anything I ask for is to be sent up. Have a very good mind to telephone and ask for a pound of tea and Lady B’s pearl necklace – (Could Cleopatra be quoted as precedent here?) – and see what happens.”
I imagine that it will get a bit ‘samey’ but I very much enjoyed this and I am definitely going to read the other parts of it.
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LibraryThing member pgchuis
This edition is in fact four different "Provincial Lady" diaries, including later ones in which she goes on a book tour in America and tries to sign up for "suitable" war work in 1939. Each of these was very entertaining and provided quite a clear picture of life in Devon and London in the 20s and
I enjoyed the first couple of parts the most as the tone married the best with the subject matter - the Provincial lady has nothing much to do other than receive visitors, wonder where all her money goes and fret about her inability to manage her servants. The tour of America was quite different and I was mildly interested in her impressions of the US and Canada. The last diary was troubling to me and I think came to an end at a good time. I just don't see how the author could have continued in this style as the 19 year old Robin would inevitably have been called up and joined the war.
I did enjoy Robert and his ability to convey so much by saying so little (or indeed nothing).
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on to 1939. The humour (and it is very funny in a dry way) is unchanging in its tone and I think there might be something to be said for not reading all four parts in one go.I enjoyed the first couple of parts the most as the tone married the best with the subject matter - the Provincial lady has nothing much to do other than receive visitors, wonder where all her money goes and fret about her inability to manage her servants. The tour of America was quite different and I was mildly interested in her impressions of the US and Canada. The last diary was troubling to me and I think came to an end at a good time. I just don't see how the author could have continued in this style as the 19 year old Robin would inevitably have been called up and joined the war.
I did enjoy Robert and his ability to convey so much by saying so little (or indeed nothing).
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LibraryThing member leslie.98
4.5★ I loved this -- in part because I like almost all the English satires of the period between the 2 World Wars. But this thinly disguised memoir wouldn't be the classic it is if it didn't contain commentary & queries about situations women face in other times & places. While problems with
One question which occurred frequently was about why societal conventions & common politeness require adults to lie so often: "Lady Boxe calls. I say, untruthfully, how nice to see her..."; in reply to an old school friend asking to stay for a few nights: "Reply that we shall be delighted to see her, and what a lot we shall have to talk about, after all these years! (This, I find on reflection, is not true, but cannot re-write letter on that account)."; The Vicar's wife has had a picture postcard from her (which she produces from bag), with small cross marking bedroom window of hotel. She says, It's rather interesting, isn't it? to which I reply Yes, it is, which is not in the least true."
This juxtaposition of the conventional polite behavior and the true thoughts of the author is the source of much of the humor.
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servants, lack of money (relatively speaking!), and the Women's Institute are not universal, who hasn't had the experience of someone saying something unpleasant, then "Think of several rather tart and witty rejoinders to this, but unfortunately not until Lady B.'s Bentley has taken her away."One question which occurred frequently was about why societal conventions & common politeness require adults to lie so often: "Lady Boxe calls. I say, untruthfully, how nice to see her..."; in reply to an old school friend asking to stay for a few nights: "Reply that we shall be delighted to see her, and what a lot we shall have to talk about, after all these years! (This, I find on reflection, is not true, but cannot re-write letter on that account)."; The Vicar's wife has had a picture postcard from her (which she produces from bag), with small cross marking bedroom window of hotel. She says, It's rather interesting, isn't it? to which I reply Yes, it is, which is not in the least true."
This juxtaposition of the conventional polite behavior and the true thoughts of the author is the source of much of the humor.
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LibraryThing member m.belljackson
The Provincial Lady drags readers along with her dishonest reactions, tedious bank exchanges, secrets from annoying husband and
complaining dispassionate marriage...
...I gave up with husband drowning kittens...
complaining dispassionate marriage...
...I gave up with husband drowning kittens...
LibraryThing member AlisonY
This collection of four of E. M. Delafield's Provincial Lady books in one edition was an absolute delight. If you've not heard of this writer or these books before, completely ignore the cover of this edition as it is entirely inappropriate and of the wrong era.
Written in diary form in often
This woman was, in short, an absolute riot. Despite the setting being close on 100 years ago, the Provincial Lady's daily concerns feel almost modern, which is no doubt down to the razor-sharp wit throughout which feels ahead of its time compared to much writing of that era. She is the Caitlin Moran or Helen Fielding of her era, a writer whose very essence exudes from her protagonist with endless witticisms, self-deprecation and withering commentary on those that cross her path.
In the first book, The Diary of a Provincial Lady, our narrator documents with dry humour her daily struggles as a woman of relatively high social standing running a household. We're never told what her husband Robert's occupation is, but they move in upper middle class circles and have a small staff to manage the domestic chores in the household. The cook is fairly useless but formidable, and our Provincial Lady spends much of her time failing to work up the courage to address her about areas that need improvement, which reminded me of friends who work full time in demanding jobs yet are scared to confront their cleaner when they do a lousy job. Our protagonist has a busy mind, and although she accepts that household management is her responsibility it's not something she enjoys or wishes to prioritise when she can help it. She sends story offerings to her favourite publication Time and Tide, but at this stage this feels like a hobby also indulged in by many of her friends and acquaintances. She enjoys trips up to London and wishes to spend more of her time there, the country life being a little too dull, but despite governesses for her youngest child, boarding school for her oldest and a small household staff, money is always tight. Despite this, her spending is only occasionally curtailed, and she regularly gets indignant over the increasingly short patience of the bank over the state of her overdraft.
I am sure that every woman will acknowledge that choosing and creating one's own rich, elegant, and costly clothes is an extremely efficient cure for any worries about money.
In the second book, The Provincial Lady Goes Further, our narrator is shocked to have earned a book deal from her Time and Tide writing which considerably changes the financial circumstances of the family (echoing how Delafield found her way to publishing). Now a woman of independent means, she delights in spontaneously buying a flat up in London to support her need to spend regular time there for her work, when in reality the writing of the second book she's received an advance for is continually pushed to the end of her to do list as she's much too busy enjoying herself. Our protagonist has little ego or airs about her, and her regular disappointment in her appearance surely strikes a chord with so many modern females reading this book, despite the passage of time.
January 22nd - Robert startles me at breakfast by asking if my cold, which he has hitherto ignored - is better. I reply that it has gone. Then why, he asks, do I look like that? Feel that life is wholly unendurable, and decide madly to get a new hat.
In the third novel, The Provincial Lady goes on a promotional tour of America for her book and delights us with her mixed emotions on being away from her family for two months whilst having a whale of a time. Every telegram she receives she's convinced brings news of her children dying in some tragic accident, which of course never happens yet taps into the preposterous ideas that many of us mothers get into our heads when we have to leave our children for any considerable length of time. She attends the Chicago World Fair, delights that the English custom for tea seems to translate to cocktails in America, and insists on a trip to the Alcott house, which is her publisher's only concession on a whirlwind tour full of engagements. Despite her somewhat new rise to the fame, everyday worries continue to keep her feet planted firmly on the ground.
Write postcards, to Rose, the children, and Robert, and after some thought send one to Cook, although entirely uncertain as to whether this will gratify her or not. Am surprised, and rather disturbed, to find that wording of Cook's postcard takes more thought than that on all the others put together.
In the final book, The Provincial Lady in Wartime, our Provincial Lady chronicles her life up in London during the initial stage of WWII, dubbed the Phoney War. During this time she, along with all her friends and acquaintances, is keen to 'do her bit', yet there's so little happening she can't get anyone to take any interest in using her skills on a voluntary basis. It's an interesting (and of course amusing) account of a period I've not read about previously in WWII accounts, this desperation to call oneself to action and feeling the social and personal disappointment of not having any role of importance to undertake, and also waiting for the action to start which never seems to come. She eventually gets a position in 'the underworld' canteen beneath the Adelphi Theatre, where volunteers for the ambulance corps, etc. are occasionally training but more often than not hanging around waiting for something to happen.
I absolutely loved this series (which absolutely didn't need such a long review, but once I got started I couldn't stop myself). She's a funny and quirky writer, and it was an absolutely delight from start to finish. If you've enjoyed reads such as Mrs Bridge I can definitely recommend this.
Diary of a Provincial Lady - 4.5 stars
The Provincial Lady Goes Further - 4.5 stars
The Provincial Lady in America - 4.5 stars
The Provincial Lady in Wartime - 4 stars (the tightening of belts and loss of socialising during this early war period made this last book a little less entertaining).
Written in diary form in often
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truncated sentences, the first book in this series was written in 1930, and although containing fictional characters the books borrow much from Delafield's own life. This woman was, in short, an absolute riot. Despite the setting being close on 100 years ago, the Provincial Lady's daily concerns feel almost modern, which is no doubt down to the razor-sharp wit throughout which feels ahead of its time compared to much writing of that era. She is the Caitlin Moran or Helen Fielding of her era, a writer whose very essence exudes from her protagonist with endless witticisms, self-deprecation and withering commentary on those that cross her path.
In the first book, The Diary of a Provincial Lady, our narrator documents with dry humour her daily struggles as a woman of relatively high social standing running a household. We're never told what her husband Robert's occupation is, but they move in upper middle class circles and have a small staff to manage the domestic chores in the household. The cook is fairly useless but formidable, and our Provincial Lady spends much of her time failing to work up the courage to address her about areas that need improvement, which reminded me of friends who work full time in demanding jobs yet are scared to confront their cleaner when they do a lousy job. Our protagonist has a busy mind, and although she accepts that household management is her responsibility it's not something she enjoys or wishes to prioritise when she can help it. She sends story offerings to her favourite publication Time and Tide, but at this stage this feels like a hobby also indulged in by many of her friends and acquaintances. She enjoys trips up to London and wishes to spend more of her time there, the country life being a little too dull, but despite governesses for her youngest child, boarding school for her oldest and a small household staff, money is always tight. Despite this, her spending is only occasionally curtailed, and she regularly gets indignant over the increasingly short patience of the bank over the state of her overdraft.
I am sure that every woman will acknowledge that choosing and creating one's own rich, elegant, and costly clothes is an extremely efficient cure for any worries about money.
In the second book, The Provincial Lady Goes Further, our narrator is shocked to have earned a book deal from her Time and Tide writing which considerably changes the financial circumstances of the family (echoing how Delafield found her way to publishing). Now a woman of independent means, she delights in spontaneously buying a flat up in London to support her need to spend regular time there for her work, when in reality the writing of the second book she's received an advance for is continually pushed to the end of her to do list as she's much too busy enjoying herself. Our protagonist has little ego or airs about her, and her regular disappointment in her appearance surely strikes a chord with so many modern females reading this book, despite the passage of time.
January 22nd - Robert startles me at breakfast by asking if my cold, which he has hitherto ignored - is better. I reply that it has gone. Then why, he asks, do I look like that? Feel that life is wholly unendurable, and decide madly to get a new hat.
In the third novel, The Provincial Lady goes on a promotional tour of America for her book and delights us with her mixed emotions on being away from her family for two months whilst having a whale of a time. Every telegram she receives she's convinced brings news of her children dying in some tragic accident, which of course never happens yet taps into the preposterous ideas that many of us mothers get into our heads when we have to leave our children for any considerable length of time. She attends the Chicago World Fair, delights that the English custom for tea seems to translate to cocktails in America, and insists on a trip to the Alcott house, which is her publisher's only concession on a whirlwind tour full of engagements. Despite her somewhat new rise to the fame, everyday worries continue to keep her feet planted firmly on the ground.
Write postcards, to Rose, the children, and Robert, and after some thought send one to Cook, although entirely uncertain as to whether this will gratify her or not. Am surprised, and rather disturbed, to find that wording of Cook's postcard takes more thought than that on all the others put together.
In the final book, The Provincial Lady in Wartime, our Provincial Lady chronicles her life up in London during the initial stage of WWII, dubbed the Phoney War. During this time she, along with all her friends and acquaintances, is keen to 'do her bit', yet there's so little happening she can't get anyone to take any interest in using her skills on a voluntary basis. It's an interesting (and of course amusing) account of a period I've not read about previously in WWII accounts, this desperation to call oneself to action and feeling the social and personal disappointment of not having any role of importance to undertake, and also waiting for the action to start which never seems to come. She eventually gets a position in 'the underworld' canteen beneath the Adelphi Theatre, where volunteers for the ambulance corps, etc. are occasionally training but more often than not hanging around waiting for something to happen.
I absolutely loved this series (which absolutely didn't need such a long review, but once I got started I couldn't stop myself). She's a funny and quirky writer, and it was an absolutely delight from start to finish. If you've enjoyed reads such as Mrs Bridge I can definitely recommend this.
Diary of a Provincial Lady - 4.5 stars
The Provincial Lady Goes Further - 4.5 stars
The Provincial Lady in America - 4.5 stars
The Provincial Lady in Wartime - 4 stars (the tightening of belts and loss of socialising during this early war period made this last book a little less entertaining).
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Language
Original publication date
1930 (Diary of a Provincial Lady)
1932 (The Provincial Lady in London)
1934 (The Provincial Lady in America)
1940 (The Provincial Lady in Wartime)
1947 (collection)
Physical description
20 cm
ISBN
9780141191812