I first came across Elizabeth von Arnim when I picked up a copy of The Enchanted April in Waterstones some 20 years ago and thought 'this looks interesting'. I purchased it, went home, read it in two hours and came straight back into town and Waterstones and bought the other three on the shelves. Since then I have never looked back and have managed to track down the out of print, old, unknown titles over the years. On one never to be forgotten day in Cambridge, some years ago, I found a treasure trove of E von A in a box outside a bookshop, lovely blue bound editions at the princely sum of 50p each. I swooped, I grabbed, I practically fainted and they all came home with me.
One of hers eluded me for ages. The last title I needed to complete my collection - In the Mountains. I had been searching for some time and found a copy, but at £150+ I decided that I would give this a miss. Did another search and noticed that Virago were going to reprint it. so I pre-ordered it and waited and nothing happened. It vanished from my Amazon basket and when I contacted Virago they said it was not going to be published after all. I was furious.
Some years later I was in London with my daughter Kathryn and we were strolling along the South Bank and, as many of you will know, there are loads of books for sale there spread out on long tables. I have found the odd treasure there and was pottering about when I spotted In the Mountains and with a cry of joy grabbed it. It was priced at £40 but I haggled and got it down to £25 and went home totally delighted with my find. I wrote about this on Face Book and lo and behold a friend of mine commented that she was really really sorry but she had just picked up a copy of this for 50p. I will draw a veil over proceedings.....
And, as you will see, I have a collection of battered and old second hand copies of her works that I have tracked down over the years. Many of them are available now in newer editions but I treasure these copies and will never get rid of them.
Many of Elizabeth von Arnim's output are very very funny. Elizabeth's Adventures in Rugen, Christoper and Columbus and Fraulein Schmidt and Mr Anstruther come to mind, and a rather neglected title, An Introduction to Sally which chronicles the fatal effect a simply stunningly beautiful girl has on all around her, reduced me to hoots when I first found it in a second hand bookshop, but many of them are thoughtful and with hidden depths. I am thinking of Love, the story of an older woman married to a much younger man, Mr Skeffington and, of course, her masterpiece, Vera, which portrays the story of a mentally abusive marriage to a possessive and controlling husband quite chillingly.
The most delightful of all her books though is, of course, The Enchanted April which I have now read numberless times and I treasure the copy I have which is the original Virago edition which I found in a second hand bookshop. How I love exploring these places where you never know what you will find.
From the pictures you will see that I have two copies of The Adventures of Elizabeth in Rugen - one the faithful Green Virago edition and another I picked up in Hay on Wye and simply could not leave on the shelf, purely for the illustration at the beginning.
Christine was an early book written by Elizabeth von Arnim, but hidden behind her maiden name of Alice Cholmondeley. It is a series of letters from her daughter who was working as a nurse at the front in the first World War. This book was not popular in Germany as it was seen as 'anti-German' by the government. Elizabeth at this time was married to Count von Arnim so the publication of these letters would not have gone down well. Hence, the pseudonym.
This edition was published in 1917 by the Macmillan Company, New York with a lovely cover and printing and inside a greetings card to Nelly from a Mr Russell O Snyder from Wilkinsbury, Pennsylvania. I wonderws just who Mr Snyder was and why he gave this to Nelly - was she his sweetheart, his wife, his daughter? A slightly odd and unusual book to give as a Christmas present considering its content.
Shortly after I wrote about this book I received an email from a reader in Australia. She lived in the outback in a fairly isolated area and had difficulty receiving a connection so she rarely left comments on the blog but she sent me an email and this is what she said:
"I thought I would just mention this coincidence regarding the dedication in your copy of Christine. My husband's great grandmother was Ellen Shillam who emigrated to the USA and married a Mr A R Snyder. Her youngest daughter, she was a widow, accompanied her, her name was Nell. Perhaps Nell was a little young to be reading Christine if she was given it in 1917 when it was hot off the press. It is probably stretching coincidence too far to suppose she was the actual recipient but the two names struck me when reading the post and it would be nice to think you identified a previous owner of the book"
To say I was gobsmacked when I read this was putting it mildly. How simply wonderful that I have in my possession a book given as a present to a long gone relative and that somebody in the middle of Australia read my post and wrote to me. I have the email tucked into the book and will treasure it along with the card inside.
On reading Christine you will find a poignant foreword from Elizabeth:
"We share our griefs; and anything there is of love and happiness, any smallest expression of it, should be shared too. That is why I am leaving out nothing in the letters. The war killed Christine, just as surely as if she had been a soldier in the trenches................I never saw her again. I had a telegram saying she was dead. I tried to go to Stuttgart, but was turned back at the frontier. Her last two letters reached me after I knew that she was dead".
Reading Christine's letters is like reading anything written by Elizabeth von Arnim. The wit and style of her mother is there and also the eagle eye spotting hypocrisy and cant and mercilessly exposing it. It is very sad reading these pages knowing that she died so young. She was not killed by a bomb or any act of war, but pneumonia probably brought on by tiredness and overwork.
"Goodnight my own mother. I've had a happy week. I put my arms around you and kiss you with all that I have of love. Christine".
Unbearably sad.
I have been wanting to re-read Arnim for some time and, as I enjoy a winter project when the nights are cold and the curtains are drawn, I have decided to take them down from my shelf and visit them once more. I shall keep you posted.
After all it is not as if my To be Read pile is very big and calling for my attention....
