2006-01-03 "The façade of the house was like cardboard, without weight"

Danielstown, the Irish estate belonging to Sir Richard and Lady Naylor, is the closed environment which allows Elizabeth Bowen to explore the Anglo-Irish lifestyle, values, and allegiances in 1921, a time when The Troubles are about to sweep the country and change it forever. The Naylors' niece Lois is nineteen, a bored young woman without goals, impatient to get on with the job of finding a husband so that she can fulfill her apparent destiny. Her cousin Laurence, an Oxford student who would rather be in Italy or France, also has little to do, a condition he shares with a married couple, Francie and Hugo Montmorency, who visit friends like the Naylors regularly, having no home of their own.

A British army unit is garrisoned nearby to protect their loyal subjects-and, not incidentally, provide a ready source of young men for garden parties and tennis matches. With an acute eye for detail, ironic detachment, and a sometimes caustic wit, Bowen reconstructs the lives of these aristocrats. One comments that it would be "the greatest pity if we were to become a republic and all these lovely troops taken away." Laurence remarks cynically that he would like to be present when "this house burns and we should all be so careful not to notice." When an informer tells the family that guns have been buried on their property, they are blasé about it-they don't want to tell the soldiers because it might result in the trampling of some new trees.

Throughout the novel, Bowen's prose remains formal and detached. When Lois and a young soldier begin to think they are in love, there are no passionate scenes-both are a product of their time and upbringing, and kisses are reserved for the engagement. When nearby estates are attacked, the Naylors simply change their schedules and limit their travel. Bowen's book has the ring of truth-she herself was part of the Ango-Irish tradition in County Cork, and she wrote the book in 1929, when the revolution was still fresh. Though she puts an iconoclastic spin on attitudes and values, she offers no apologies, preferring to present the facts, create the scenes, and allow the reader to judge for himself/herself whether Ireland was better off before or after The Troubles. Mary Whipple