John Saumarez Smith (1943–2021)

Here's the thing about publishing a person's letters post mortem: they were written to friends - in this case one, very good, very long-time friend - and as such contain all sorts of personal references, names of mutual friends, inside jokes, and most frustratingly, a shorthand form of communication built up over years that's really only obvious to the correspondents themselves. The editor Johns Saumerez Smith, does his best to clarify as much as possible, but there's quite a lot that went over my head regardless.

In addition to the insider knowledge required to really, really appreciate this collection, Johns Saumerez Smith, in an effort at conciseness, interest, and probably respect of Haywood's and Mitford's privacy, edited each letter down to the bits he felt were humorous, with the effect that as a reader, I felt a bit frustrated - because references would be made to one thing or another in one letter that were never followed up on in subsequent letters. There are letters in their chain of correspondence that are missing in the archives, and Johns Saumerez Smith did his best to summarise (I assume from other sources) the gaps. But the one thing that really irritated me is that Saumerez Smith left out letters that exist but have already been published in one of the other 2 broader collections of Mitford's letters, making the (erroneous in my case) assumption that the reader had already seen them, because, of course, the reader would have already read both the other collections.

Overall though, I enjoyed this glimpse into Mitford's life, and the drama at the Haywood Hill bookshop ... I wish they'd discussed it more and in fuller detail; it sounds like quite a drama. A lot of joy comes through though, and a lot of irreverence, so that even if I didn't understand all the references, I enjoyed the glimpse I got into a valued friendship.… (mehr)

The background of the letters, mostly Saumarez Smith's to Heywood, is given in the other review. The tone of them is that of two petty and petulant schoolchildren. Mollie Buchanan if JSS is accurate does sound rather dreadul but was in the bookshop only two days a week and her husband seems, if a bit self-important, on the whole inoffensive.

The letters from JSS are almost wholly flat complaints about those two. Heywood concurs with them and he and his 'spy' give sappy childish nicknames to the Buchanans, rail about their behaviour, try to suss out who's on their side and who on the others' and build a clubhouse in the back garden to which only enemies of the Buchanans are allowed entry. I made that last bit up, actually, but it's in keeping with the spirit of the book.

The Buchanans left the shop altogether within a few years of the last letter here, written in 1974, and the book was published in 2006, decades later. To me this is extraordinary: To keep a pet simmering for three decades seems a terrible waste of one's given time. And Saumarez Smith is so obviously devoid of insight into himself that he might welll have thought the perfectly ordinary letters were remarkable enough to merit publishing though more likely his motive was that of an adult returning to his childhood clubhouse still seething over the old slights and shouting out from within it Nyah nyah nyah!

Entertaining because the enduring petty bitterness is so markedly OTT and because of the wholly unwitting way in which the author outs himself as, er, an enduringly petty & bitter sort of person.… (mehr)