Jane Gardam Dies Aged 96

Hello Gentle Reader,

Of contemporary English language writers who could be described as quintessentially English, Jane Gardam would be of them. A writer of the social comedies and absurdities of suburban and middle-class life; the kind of novels which are scoffed at by today’s youth, who dismiss them as genteel and milquetoast. The otherwise polite and unassuming novels of their parents and grandparents, which completely lacks their appetite for what they perceive to be socially conscious issues and attitudes, reflecting their egregious and self-righteous ideals, all the while fortifying them. They therefore miss the cunning curated delights of Jane Gardam, whose novels can be described as orchestral in approach, with critics often gently lamenting that the busyness of a Gardam novel, with all its ensemble characters and multiple narrative threads waterlog the narrative with such saturation that the point and plot gets lost. Jane Gardam, however, remained an astute observer of the everyday, the mistaken timid and common middle-class existence, with its misconceived paltry concerns; but what Gardam captured, was intimate portraits of social comedy and emotional depth of those people within this class structure. In other words, a full-bodied narrative of the human condition in the 20^th century. Despite this, Jane Gardam’s literary career is often regarded as being strangely overlooked and underappreciated beyond the borders of the United Kingdom, which comes down to the fact that Gardam was not a writer who could easily be categorized, no different then Doris Lessing or Penelope Lively, whose bibliographies are equally diverse in form, format, preoccupation, and theme, but maintain a certain affinity to psychological acuity and insight. To their credit and circumstance, both Doris Lessing and Penelope Lively are often first viewed within the context of the twilight years of the British Empire. For Lessing it was the now defunct colony of Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) and for Lively it was British Egypt. Afterwards though, Lessing became a firebrand and iconoclast, social barometer and critic, scrutinizing a civilization through the century; while Lively tended to novels dissected personal memory in contrast to official history, foibles and follies of individuals, and the quiet intimate dramas of everyday people. As for Jane Gardam, there remained a sense her sensibilities were English through and through. Still Gardam was shortlisted for the Booker Prize with her novel “God on the Rocks,” recounts a summer of awakening for one girl between the wars. It’s a masterclass novel in psychological and emotional cartography, whereby Gardam proves that the larger the tapestry and the competing perspectives only adds to the text. Sadly, it was beat out by the begrudged novel “The Sea, The Sea,” by Iris Murdoch. Of course, Jane Gardam’s reputation is said to rest on her “Old Filth Trilogy,” with the titular first novel “Old Filth,” beloved as a tragicomic character study. The subsequent novels in the trilogy, “The Man in the Wooden Hat,” and “Last Friends,” continues the study from different perspectives, providing an otherwise encompassing and comedic perspective of old age, and the bittersweet tinge of memories. Other memorable novels include “Crusoe’s Daughter,” which is often described as Jane Gardam’s most political novel in context, but remained fixated on the psychological realities of the main character, Polly Flint, who finds continual reprieve in the story of Robinson Crusoe, as her own life is one marred and shipwrecked by tragedy and circumstance.
 
Rest in Peace Jane Gardam.
 
Thank you For Reading Gentle Reader
Take Care
And As Always
Stay Well Read
 
M. Mary