Book Review: All Passion Spent
If one is not to please oneself old age, when is one to please oneself? There is so little time left!
This is a very charming novel. Its not often that you read a book from the perspective of an 88 year old woman, well past the prime of life and youthful aspirations. It is also not often that we see a character - Lady Slane- fully embrace being old. A lot of literature focuses on youth and living fully in ones youth and woe betide the time when you grow old.
Lady Slane has recently become a widow after her husband, Lord Slane- former Viceroy to India, former Prime Minister and all round fantastic statesman - has died. Everyone expects Lady slate to fade into the background, shifted slowly between her, also elderly, children. She had remained quiet all her life, faithfully and without question beside her husband. But this time, no. at 88 years old she finally is allowed to do as she wishes, as much as she loved her husband, she can reignite youthful passions and live independently without the domineering eyes of her children who seem to think they know better. Her children can only be described as vultures, all round quite horrible people. Okay they mean well, but the seem to get the wrong idea of what their mother actually wants. They go so far as to make decisions for her and are dully surprised when Lady Slane says ‘no’. After all she has her own mind and her own thoughts, she has spent too long pandering to the whims of her husband who never quite knew what she wanted. Sure he gave her jewels and made her a Vicereine of India. But, she didn’t seem to care for it. What she did care for was being a painter. That aspiration was duly quashed as ‘she would have other occupations later’.
So, Lady Slane moves to a house in Hampstead, far away from the eyes of her children but perfect and quiet for her. She doesn’t want visitors, her children are okay to come by. Except she loathes it. No great grand children either, for they can be tiresome too. In Hampstead she makes the companionship of some very interesting people, the landlord Mr Bucktrout a very eccentric man who delights in Lady Slane’s company, but who is under the impression that the world is about to end because every other sentence is something of the sort from the bible. I won’t quote them here. It was a bit much to be honest. Yet he and the decorator Mr Gosheron seem to understand Lady Slane completely, and for that she is grateful. She also makes the acquaintance of a Mr FitzGeorge, a delightful miser, who spends most of his time trying to find beauty if the objects he buys- at a lower market price. If the price is too high he won’t buy it. If it is far far far below the market price. Sold! As such his collection is coveted by all the museums on London. But this is not what delights Lady Slane, FitzGeorge invokes a lost romanticism that had been buried deep deep down, lost in the visceral labyrinth of memory. They had met, many many years ago when they were young in Agra, it was revealed fifty years later that he loved her from the moment he saw her and only beautiful art could tempt him away. There were certain details that he kept out of the equation, either out of due diligence to Lady Slane’s deceased husband or out of propriety, but he loved her when he discovered her surrounded by freshly cut flowers at Viceroy House in the glow of the Indian sun. This nostalgia almost breaks the heart.
So, it was without question that, when he dies, he left his entire collection and all of his wealth to Lady Slane. Much to her annoyance and to the delight of her children. However, he children would soon be disappointed because Lady Slane gives it all away to museums and charities. Her children are furious - naturally they wanted all her money and, naturally they were furious for her not caring and giving it away. I did say her children were vultures. But wealth doesn’t matter to Lady Slane and she had demonstrated earlier by giving away all her jewels.
Even in the glow of growing older and delighting in old age, the inevitable does happen. Lady Slane dies whilst listening to her youngest great granddaughter discuss the ending of an engagement which ended because this girl, Deborah, wants to be a musician, an ambition that she won’t give up. Lady Slane’s last joy is seeing her great granddaughter fulfilling her life’s ambition when she, Lady Slane couldn’t.
If yore terrified about getting older, then read this book. If you’re terrified about life passing you by unfulfilled, then read this book. It was wonderfully insightful and a pleasure to read. So read this book.