Novel On Yellow Paper

Novel on Yellow Paper (Revived Modern Classic)
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But then I had a moment of elation at that party. I got shot right up. Hurrah to be a goy! A clever goy is cleverer than a clever Jew. And I am a clever goy that knows everything on earth and in heaven. Yes, perhaps. And the feeling you must pipe down and apologize for being so superior and clever: I can't help it really my dear chap, you see I'm a goy. It just comes with the birth. Pompey is a woman in her early 30's who works as a private secretary and lives in the suburbs with her aunt the ''Lion of Hull''.

She has many friends, a ''dippy'' suitor named Freddy and a briskly cheery attitude toward life, frequently undercut by observations on death. Pompey is primarily her talk, exclusively her talk, all chatter, all opinions, betraying now and then beyond the Dorothy Parker influence a numbing Gertrude Stein rhythm: ''But first, Reader, I will give you a word of warning. This is a foot-offthe-ground novel that came by the left hand.

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And the thoughts come and go and sometimes they do not quite come and I do not pursue them to embarrass them with formality to pursue them into a harsh captivity. And if you are a foot-off-the-ground person I make no bones to say that is how you will write and only how you will write. And if you are a foot-on-the-ground person, this book will be for you a desert of weariness and exasperation.

And again: ''For this book is the talking voice that runs on, and the thoughts come, the way I said, and the people come too, and come and go, to illustrate the thoughts, to point the moral, to adorn the tale.

Novel On Yellow Paper

Lawrence, Racine, Goethe, Christianity and Nazism. It deals in its slapdash manner with ''women's issues'' ''And so thinking how everything is all right because she is married, and how she must not be anything but very gentle and kind to the poor friend who is still not having any man to wash up for, but is still awfully inferior and unmarried, she must be very tactful and kind to this friend, and not, oh no, she must not say one word to make worse for this friend the awful burden of inferiority, how her arms are empty, and she has no kiddy''. A story of some sort dimly unfolds in the background as Freddy disappoints ''And you my darling Freddy, my darling little child, my dippy Freddy, affronted, disgusted, outraged and reproachful.

Smith, Stevie.

It's just all out of my head. Top Five Books of This is perhaps one of those rare books that you appreciate more later on in life. Smith and Molly, raised in a family of women, became attached to their own independence, in contrast to what Smith described as the typical Victorian family atmosphere of "father knows best". So put it down.

There was never anyone as I who asked so much of nothing. Oh come on my darling Freddy and do not be so dippy''. The chatter is occasionally sobered by thoughts of Pompey's mother's death and by thoughts of death in general. Like all improvised works, this literary curiosity strikes some inspired notes and others less inspired.

Its value mainly lies in the fact that it was written by Stevie Smith at the age of 34 and that Stevie Smith went on to establish a distinct name for herself in poetry. Yet if one looks for a self-portrait here - or in ''Over the Frontier'' and ''The Holiday'' -one is likely to be disappointed, for Stevie Smith rarely ''sees'' herself, and efforts at characterization are minimal. This book is an ethnographic treasure. A fabulously unconventional young lower-middle class White woman with no pretensions to objectivity or representativeness narrates her thoughts as-they-come in England between the wars.

As historical document, it's rubies and opals Whether or not it is enjoyable depends on the reader.

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Smith is a 'foot-off-the-ground person' and generously warns off the other sort. She does not complete her thoughts or her stories and they follow one another in no kind of ord This book is an ethnographic treasure.

She does not complete her thoughts or her stories and they follow one another in no kind of order. Her style is never serious, ranging from whimsical and disarmingly self-deprecating to crisply sardonic, especially on the social position of women and on sex. On the latter subjects I admire her, as on friendship and fellowship between women, but on politics and literature I cannot agree with her, though she speaks with clarity and some insight. I find her an extremely easy author to read; I run my eyes over the page and gather the meaning entire; I feel it leap from her heart to mine, but many readers will feel differently!

View 2 comments. Jun 27, Buck rated it really liked it Shelves: chicks-dig-it. Well, it's a novel, and it's written on yellow paper, but beyond that it's nothing like what you'd expect, unless you're expecting awesomeness, which it pretty much delivers. View all 7 comments. Not only is this a jolly good thing to be, but it is wholly necessary if one is to fully appreciate her exuberant chatter. This was Smith's first novel, printed in , and could perhaps be described as a frenetic, not quite fictional, ingeniously funny memoir.

The sagacious Pompey secretary to magazine publisher, Sir Phoebus Ullwater confabulates on topics as diverse as sex, The Church, Nazism, single women, death, matrimony and oh so much more. She discusses and analyses the people in her life - characters quite obviously based on Smith's actual friends and relatives — and leaves the reader feeling altogether exhilarated, enervated and not infrequently bewildered.

I expect people either love or loathe this book. I loved it! NB The text is peppered with German words and expressions Latin and French, too , but this wasn't a problem for me because my Kindle offered instant translation. Jun 16, Bob rated it it was amazing. I may not be doing it justice but I am rushing to get back to it. Next day: finished.

Really "startlingly original" though that sounds like lazy book review boilerplate not as a bad as "finely observed first novel". I am also somehow extra fascinated with people who lived just outside my range of experience, or barely overlapped - had I somehow met Stevie Smith in London in when I was ten years old, would it have made any impression and would I remember?

Nonetheless, the possibility is intriguing.

Novel on Yellow Paper, or Work it out for Yourself.

Mar 24, Eileen rated it really liked it Shelves: britlit. It's hard to put anything about this one into words. Interesting, half shocking, contemporary thoughts on anti-semitism, forming and unforming relationships, work, etc. She makes judgments throughout on her readers, telling straightforward plot-driven people to put t It's hard to put anything about this one into words. She makes judgments throughout on her readers, telling straightforward plot-driven people to put the book down but the undecideds to keep going--I returned it to the library already or I'd go get the quote.

It's worth reading.

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Bought this for the cover picture - on my copy detail from 'Woman in Yellow' by Tamara de Lempicka. This is Catherine Carrington by Dora Carrington - and just as enticing! Well done Virago.

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Neither Stevie Smith nor Pompey Casmilus is to be summed up by the likes of me. Finishing it sent me to the poetry books and I can find only one book in the house with any of her poems - British Poetry since - so these three poems are possibly the only I have ever read.

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Easy to read but hard hitting on t Bought this for the cover picture - on my copy detail from 'Woman in Yellow' by Tamara de Lempicka. Easy to read but hard hitting on the heart and brain - no book at bedtime as I had to take up another book before I could sleep Very neat book where an intelligent witty s lady digresses about various topics such as nazi germany, sex, ancient greek theatre, relationships, the church and her cool aunt. Oct 08, Molly rated it really liked it.

Underneath Stevie Smith's playful prose is a dead seriousness about the world. She just refuses to keep her feet on the ground. And I get that. It's almost insufferable, but not quite. In the meantime, there are some fabulous lines. But how it tears one, and how unruhig it is.

Mar 22, Helen added it Shelves: fiction. This is the fourth time I've read this book, and every time I've read it I've had a very different, extreme reaction. The first time I read it, it just annoyed me. The second time, I loved it. The third time, I hated it. I think I was right in a note I made on the second read, that if you approach this novel as you would a 'conventional' novel, you'll want to fling it across the room. You have to let yourself be wooed by narrator Pompey Casmilus' quicksilver mind - "For this book is the talking This is the fourth time I've read this book, and every time I've read it I've had a very different, extreme reaction.

You have to let yourself be wooed by narrator Pompey Casmilus' quicksilver mind - "For this book is the talking voice that runs on, and the thoughts come, the way I said, and the people come too, and come and go Her language darts and leaps. This is a sort of 'stream of consciousness', but where Woolf is mostly serious, Smith likes to tease and poke fun.

She clearly enjoys playing with language, stretching it, juggling with it.

A blog about Stevie Smith and the art of the aphorism.

Yes, always someone dies, someone weeps, in tune with the laurels dripping, and the tap dripping, and the spout dripping into the water-butt, and the dim gas flickering greenly in the damp conservatory.