In
the past year and a half or so, I've read a handful of Elinor Brent-Dyer's
Chalet School books and have enjoyed them very much. But as some Chalet School
fans have realized from my occasional passing mentions of the series here, I've
been reading them in a rather haphazard order, starting with (naturally for me)
The Chalet School in Exile, often
considered the best of the series and the one that makes the most dramatic use
of World War II. But I know a big part of the appeal of this series to its fans
is tracing the characters' development and evolution over time, so I recently decided
I would try to start at the beginning and gradually (very gradually, considering how many other authors and books I'm
always trying to read at the same time) work my way forward in the series.
Now,
this is a bit easier said than done, because although paperbacks of the series
are generally pretty readily available, those editions have often been
rigorously chopped up and abridged (you can learn a bit about this here—though
many of you already know far more about it than I do). Girls Gone By has been
reprinting unabridged editions, but understandably it takes a long time for a
small publisher to work their way through more than 60 titles. (Less
understandable, perhaps, is the bewildering order in which they've been
reprinting them, which doesn't seem to prioritize either the series order or—as
might also have made sense—the titles that were most abridged in paperback
editions, or even for that matter the titles that seem to be the hardest to
find. The logic escapes me, but perhaps there is one somewhere, and regardless I am grateful to them for reprinting them at all.)
Add
to this, though, that GGB editions tend to go back out-of-print fairly quickly and become
collectible and prohibitively expensive themselves, and I realized how much of a challenge I had set myself in
trying to approach the books in series order. I quickly adjusted my goal to
merely acquiring GGB editions of the books that were most seriously abridged in paperback, resigning myself to the earlier paperback versions of those titles that had only minor edits. And I may not even be able to
accomplish that—we shall see.
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| Elinor M. Brent-Dyer |
Naturally enough, the first volume of the series, The School at the Chalet, is one of the most in-demand of the titles, and sadly it was also badly abridged in paperback. The GGB print edition has already gone out of print and become about as costly as one might expect an original manuscript—written in EBD's hand and bearing evidence of her blood, sweat and tears—would be. Happily, GGB has released it (as well as Exile, which was also brutally cut in paperback, and two other Chalet School titles) as an ebook, but only for U.K. customers (as I learned after I eagerly tried to place an order without reading the fine print). But I viewed this setback as a challenge rather than a defeat, and enlisted the help of a kind friend in the U.K. who aided and abetted me in acquiring copies of both. My thanks to this aider-and-abetter shall remain anonymous, out of fear that GGB staff members or an international copyright militia might show up on the doorstep with flaming torches, but he/she knows who he/she is...
At
any rate, I was very happy to be able to start back at the beginning of this most famous and probably most beloved school story series. I loved reading about
the initial idea for the Chalet School, and the planning and setting up of it, not to
mention its exponential growth (had it continued at such a rate of growth for
long, the Chalet School would surely have been giving Oxford a run for its
money by about Book Five!). It was also great to see the initial introductions
of Grizel and Simone and many of the other characters who figure so prominently
in later tales. And we see Joey's first exposure to a badly-written school
story here (a tome by the name of Denise
of the Fourth, by Muriel Bernardine Browne), which will have lasting
aftereffects.
The first book is considerably longer than most of the other books in the series, and very focused on character development and making the best possible use of the Austrian countryside Brent-Dyer loved. And while it's not necessarily the most realistic presentation of the theme of a young woman finding a career, it nevertheless enjoyably partakes of that theme, which is one of my favorite sorts of tale.
I can't resist also noting a scene during Madge and Joey's trip to Paris on their way to set up the school. The girls make a side trip to Versailles, and I have to wonder if Brent-Dyer was self-consciously evoking the "Moberley-Jourdain incident," which I've mentioned here before and which is endlessly fascinating to me:
I can't resist also noting a scene during Madge and Joey's trip to Paris on their way to set up the school. The girls make a side trip to Versailles, and I have to wonder if Brent-Dyer was self-consciously evoking the "Moberley-Jourdain incident," which I've mentioned here before and which is endlessly fascinating to me:
From there, they went on to the Trianons, with their dainty
artificiality, where poor Marie Antoinette and her court ladies had played at
being milkmaids and shepherdesses clad in flowered silks, while, less than
twenty miles away, the Paris mob was beginning to cry aloud for bread. The
whole place was peopled with gay, exquisite ghosts for both Madge and Jo, and
even Grizel became infected by them, and half expected to see some hooped and
powdered lady, with raised fan and brilliant eyes, beckon to her from behind
one of the statues.
Moberly
and Jourdain's book, An Adventure,
had certainly been popular enough following its publication in 1911, so one
wonders if it had entered into the culture thoroughly enough for Brent-Dyer to
play off of it and assume that her readers would recognize the reference?
After enjoying The School at the Chalet, I plunged straight ahead into Jo of the Chalet School, which I acquired in a cheapo paperback version reputed to have only minor edits from the original. Now, calling one of the Chalet School books my favorite, when I've only read five or six in all, might not make all that much of an impression—especially on those of you who have read the complete series and know them in depth—but for now, I think that Jo of the Chalet School is my favorite. Cheerful and fun, but relatively low-key (only two or three near-death experiences, and those kept fairly brief), and set—like so many of my favorite novels—amidst the gleam of snow and ice as the school weathers (literally and figuratively) its first Austrian winter, there's also the added excitement of a flood, not to mention, less climactically, Jo's first attempts at writing. I found it hugely enjoyable, and it's one I could see myself happily re-reading on a cold rainy day.
Next
up in the series is The Princess of the
Chalet School, which is happily already resting on my TBR shelves. So far,
so good!
RITA COATTS, School on an Island (1938)
After the two Chalet School books had got me thoroughly back in a girls' school frame of mind, I couldn't resist picking up this book, which I mentioned here a whileago when Karen of Kaggsy's Bookish Ramblings very kindly gifted it to me after finding it in a thrift shop. (Thanks again, Karen!)
I
had already had enough trouble resisting the book because of its adorable
dustjacket and the fact that it's one of the oldest school stories in my
collection. And for the most part, the seductiveness of the cover paid off. The
story—involving two girls' schools (one noble and cheerful and fun-loving and
moral, the other standoffish and joyless and distinctly chilly) which go on a
round-the-world cruise (sure, why not?!) and get shipwrecked on the proverbial
desert island—is thoroughly ridiculous and implausible in every way, and the
characters—except for the very noble, brave, charismatic lead—are barely
developed at all—but the story is also completely enjoyable and fun, with
cheerful high spirits and well-plotted (if unfathomably unlikely) adventures
throughout. I had a great time with it and am so happy to have it in my
collection.
My
only proviso here is that, perhaps not entirely unexpectedly for a novel
written in the 1930s, the tale is weakened a bit by somewhat racist portrayals of
a black character and a Chinese one. I should add that these are not hateful
portrayals—in fact both characters play important roles in the survival
of the girls and their teachers—but they are about as stereotypical in speech and character traits as they could be, and they
do appear fairly regularly throughout the novel. This didn't seriously hinder
my enjoyment of the novel, but it might for some readers.



