They clinked glasses. "Water is for the feet," she said obediently. And then: ‘Where does it come from, that toast?’
‘I got it from Stravinsky. He always says he conducts best with a couple of glasses of cognac inside him.' [p. 247]
An old favourite, reread for the first time in many years -- possibly since I first read, and reviewed, it in 1998.
Ellen is raised by her mother and her aunts, three suffragette sisters, but unaccountably would rather do housework than work towards liberation and equality. She takes a position as housekeeper in a private school in Austria: the Hallendorf School is far from a traditional school, tending towards experimentation, nudity and knitting khaki balaclavas for the International Brigade. The staff are an interesting bunch, and Ellen is determined to love the children in all their savagery (though she does struggle to love the parents who have neglected their offspring). There is also a mysterious handyman, Marek, who has fitted wheels to a paralysed tortoise, and who Ellen is drawn to. But Marek has a secret -- as well as a glamorous soprano lover -- and as the Second World War begins, Marek and Ellen are forced apart by circumstance and nationality.
I noticed this time around that Ibbotson skips over certain key scenes -- a discussion between Ellen's English admirer and Marek, Ellen and Marek's parting -- and only refers to them much later. It keeps the suspense going but feels a little unfair. There are also several moments when time is wasted, the romance delayed, because somebody jumps to conclusions: this was frustrating. And I noticed much more of the music, including that line about Stravinsky, and a cameo by an elderly Richard Strauss, whose opera Der Rosenkavalier underpins part of the novel.
Ibbotson's novels, which seem to have been rebranded as 'young adult' romances, are such a delight, and there's always considerable depth and even darkness beneath the sweet and sparkling love story. A quick check of this blog indicates that, after discovering Ibbotson's romances in the 1990s, I have reread all but Magic Flutes, which I shall save up for next time I want a comforting, witty, warm-hearted reread.
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