I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith

castlesmith

I haven’t read such a charming yet completely authentic novel in a while.

Dodie Smith’s novel is a modern take on the marriage above all story-line typical of Jane Austen’s novels, but at the same time it’s a completely self-standing work.

The narrator-protagonist is 17-year-old Cassandra, who lives with her delightfully (really: delightfully! not irritatingly, not hatefully, not unbearably) crazy family in a romantic, half-ruined castle in the English countryside, writes her journal (using a unique, consciously naïve style) by candlelight, imagines herself to be the heroine either of a novel by Jane Austen or by a Brontë sister, and slowly grows up.

Her coming of age really starts when two eligible bachelors move to the neighborhood from the mythical world of the United States. Cassandra and her sister, Rose take an active interest in the newcomers and regard them as the possible means of saving their family from its not at all romantic poverty, so they start out on a quest to get a husband, each sister in her own way – Rose by assuming the role of a passive heroine and frantically batting her eyelashes, and Cassandra by… – well, she doesn’t really do anything at all; instead, she observes the people around her, interprets and analyzes her reactions and emotions, and comes to all kinds of conclusions – and very smart ones at that.

So this is really something like Pride and Prejudice, or Sense and Sensibility here, to the extent that it caught me by surprise when, for example, Cassandra once wondered around in London in the middle of the night – I was automatically thinking that no proper 19th century lady could ever have done something like this, no matter how impoverished her family was – and then I realized that we’re already in the 20th century here, where it’s possible for a young girl to walk around in London at night.

Dodie Smith, of course, plays with this feeling of timelessness deliberately. Even if you can more or less determine when the story takes place, from such details that there are automobiles, radios and gramophone records here (and I think there’s a single mention of the fact that we’re in the 1930s), still, there’s an ageless atmosphere here (or rather an atmosphere reminiscent of an era at least a hundred years earlier), and it’s hugely intriguing: roaming in this new-old English countryside, and comparing the real Jane Austen-world with this updated Jane Austen-like world, and seeing how they are different.

For me, the most interesting difference is that while in Jane Austen’s world marriage carries an inherent value (sure, it’s great if you accidentally find a suitable partner, however, if you’ve been stupid enough to hook up with a less than suitable person, then, well, tough luck, you still need to get married to that person for appearances’ sake), for Dodie Smith marriage is not inherently valuable, and there’s more than one possible way of life for a woman in her world. (Sure, it’s the 20th century already, with supposedly more opportunities, and so on – still, if I think how easy it still is to automatically follow the default way of life, then it’s really something that Smith writes about more than one possible ways.)

Besides all this, this is a pure feel-good novel. There’s an edge of sadness to the feel-good atmosphere, though, which makes it all the more interesting, but going into details about this would be a spoiler even by my lenient standards so I’ll just stop right here this time.

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