When I was a sophomore in college, still just majoring in English and government, I took a cross-curricular English/History class on the female voice. I was already leaning towards adding another major, always wistfully eyeing the history courses. In the end, it was one class and one text that pushed me to make that move, to add another major to an already busy schedule. One of the texts on the syllabus was Vera Brittain’s ‘Testament of Youth’. It was a hefty text, and trust me, I was used to buying enormous law books and English tomes. But I loved the course, and about 10 minutes into reading my assigned pages for class, I was utterly engrossed. I stayed up reading the whole book, in spite of having an early class the next morning, and I’m sure I’m not the only person to do so. To try to sum it up is impossible, so I can only say what it was to me: empowering, heartbreaking, formative, and defining. Vera Brittain’s story is, of course, the story of a particular generation, but it’s more than that. It is a seminal work that should be read so that we do not forget the lessons learned from in the Great War, but it’s also a beautiful and perfect picture of a life, a time, and a beautiful mind working its way through big questions.

There’s a new film version of ‘Testament of Youth’ coming out this year, and while I will actually make it to the cinema to watch this one, what I really hope is that it will cause a new generation of people to pick up this remarkable book. Also , doesn’t Jon Snow clean up well?

I was ridiculously excited this morning when I heard that Virago Press, one of my favourite publishers, will be reprinting L.M. Montgomery’s Emily books. I have to admit, these are not the Montgomery’s that I return to again and again for a good comfort read – that would be either the Anne series or the totally under-appreciated Pat series. But I know I’ll be snapping up these gorgeous books this autumn and having a lovely time rediscovering them with a steaming cup of tea.

My friend Bex, whose house and cat I watched while she was on vacation with her family, mentioned that bookish people should go on holiday at other bookish friends’ houses. This is an idea I can fully endorse, and in fact, began immediately while there!

The Brontes Went to Woolworths is a book I have at home. I tried reading it, having loved the other books in the Bloomsbury Group series, but put it down after about 2 chapters. I managed to make it slightly further this time, getting about 5 chapters in, but I still didn’t finish it. The story, about three sisters who are so immersed in their own made-up world that the intrusion of reality shakes them, should be my cup of tea. I just can’t seem to make it past the brittle tone and, well, the silliness of the girls. Oh well, my copy is still at home if I want to try again.

Bex also had a Nancy Mitford that I hadn’t read before, Highland Fling. While not quite as good as Love in a Cold Climate or The Pursuit of Love (and is anything that good, really?), it was still amusing. It was Nancy’s first work, and follows two bright young things as they get married on ‘nothing’. As their nothing involves plenty of creature comforts, including borrowing a castle in Scotland, they’re not exactly suffering. Frothy and fun, and ultimately forgettable.

Penelope Fitzgerald’s The Bookshop was a reread, mostly because the night I read it it was hot and I couldn’t be arsed to go downstairs and find another Persephone to read. If you haven’t read it, though, you should. The story of a widow who opens a bookstore in a small coastal town, and the resistance she gets from the very people who claim to love books and art. A beautiful book.

Part of the joy of house/cat-sitting for a friend while she is on holiday is browsing her collection of books. Fortunately, she has both excellent taste and has several Persephones that I don’t own. I brought books with me, I have books on my iPad, I’ve bought books since I’ve been here, but I’m never able to resist those dove grey covers.

The endpaper is beautiful. The Persephone website says it “could have been worn by any of the three sisters but perhaps most especially by Vera.” I would say it was more likely to be worn by Lucy, as Vera was probably too smart for something so delicate, and Lucy would have appreciated the gentle pattern of flowers.

While the endpaper is lovely, the book itself is deeply unsettling. Like the only other Whipple I’ve read, the wonderful The Priory, the novel concerns the life choice of sisters. Lucy, the eldest, takes care of her family from an early age, and provides a constant base of support that is only truly appreciated by the next generation of her family. Vera is a beauty who is used to having her own way, and her lack of imagination and selfishness make her unable to see the lasting effect she has on people until that effect begins to fade. Charlotte is a wife and mother who, after being emotionally abused by her husband for years, decides to be neither and self-destructs in a world of drink and drugs.

While it can be difficult to watch Charlotte and Vera awake to the effect their actions have had on others, it is the slow destruction of their children that is painful to read. While the novel is ostensibly about an abusive husband, what lingers is the emotional abuse that this small group of adults inflict upon their children. Vera’s daughters are made pawns in their parents’ unhappy marriage. Charlotte’s children, who find unconditional love in the shape of a beloved dog, are witnesses to the most unspeakable and unforgivable act of violence against him. The book, in spite of all of this, never feels melodramatic or revels in misery. The novel is saved by Lucy, who is able to see what’s happening and tries to help, even if she doesn’t always succeed. Whipple’s depiction of children is astonishingly good; she neither sentimentalises them nor ignores the effect they have on others. While some of the children get swallowed up by the actions of their parents, two are rescued by Lucy, who gives them the home and family they’ve never had. But even more than that, she shows them a wider world where people can be kind and love can be healthy.