I have only read one other Elizabeth Taylor novel, A View of the Harbour (1947) and enjoyed the depth of characterisation and attention to detail of the facets of everyday life. I was not disappointed with A Wreath of Roses, a novel which led to some interesting discussions when I taught it to my Literary Class a couple of years ago.
Taylor has been compared to Jane Austen for her gentle comedy, her observations about class and how money works in society. Carmen Calil, founder of Virago Press describes her as funnier and cleverer than Jane Austen. She praises her for the way in which she deals with anxiety, and her perception of human nature. However, whilst Jane Austen is useful for the basis of a comparison, her writing seems to have a darker side.
The overall premise of the plot of A Wreath of Roses is simple enough. Friends Camilla and Liz reunite every year and spend the summer with their former governess Frances. However, this year seems different for Camilla as Liz now has a baby and Frances seems evermore absorbed by her painting. The introduction by Helen Dunmore in my edition describes it as Taylor’s darkest novel, and indeed the opening chapter takes a dark turn. It begins on an ordinary summer afternoon on a station platform as Camilla is waiting for the train. However, the bright and warmth of the season becomes undercut by a sense of building tension which culminates in a man jumping from a footbridge as the train pulls into the station. In the aftermath, Camilla seeks comfort by talking to a stranger on the train, Richard Elton. She is perturbed and intrigued by this encounter in equal measures, as he is clearly quite a mysterious character:
And now that her curiosity was at last aroused, he withdrew his attention, turned again to his newspaper and appeared to be reading with complete absorption the account of a murder. (Chapter 1)
Admittedly, this is quite low key manipulative behaviour, but he succeeds in gaining her interest. Richard is apparently returning to the town to gain some peace whilst writing a book about his dramatic experiences during the war.
It emerges, as the novel progresses, that all three women are going through some form of discontent with their lives. Camilla is bored with her life, wondering if she is going to remain an unmarried school secretary for ever. Liz is struggling to adapt to her married life with a new baby, whilst Frances is having difficulties of the artistic kind with her art. Thus, Camilla falls prey to a potentially dangerous liaison with the mysterious Richard Elton, a man who may not be what he seems. Even Camilla says his name is like a pseudonym a writer would use.
The ghost of the Second World War sometimes hovers subtly in the background, other times it is more overtly evoked through descriptions of the ghastly food offered at the hotel when Camilla and Richard dine there together (see chapter 11).
I rather like the fact that the novel begins with an epigraph from The Waves by Virginia Woolf:
So terrible was life that I held up shade after shade. Look at life through this, look at life through that; let there be rose leaves, let there be vine leaves – I covered the whole street, Oxford Street, Piccadilly Circus, with the blaze and ripple of my mind, with vine leaves and rose leaves.
This rather unsettling epigraph provides a hint of the darkness to follow, as indeed, does the title. Roses, whilst beautiful, have thorns, and it is not a bouquet of roses, but a wreath.
The Backlisted Podcast describes Elizabeth Taylor as one of the most overlooked writers of the Twentieth Century, and one which I am encouraged to explore further.
