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Dublin’s Fair City
I remained distracted reading the first
hundred or so pages of Maeve Binchy’s new novel, Scarlet
Feather. It may have been the introduction of too many characters with
too many links among them to keep straight. Once I became comfortable with
the characters, I fell into this novel wholeheartedly, and wished it would
not end. Binchy tells the story mostly through dialogue, and the many voices
add a richness to the story. Tom Feather and Cathy Scarlet attended cooking
school together, and have opened a new catering business in Dublin, called
Scarlet Feather. The novel takes us month by month through the first year of
their business, during which all relationships have complicated ups and downs
in the many extended families we come to know in the novel.
Binchy creates believable characters who
care for each other, but with the Irish tendency to not show it. Each scene
is packed with energy and tension that Binchy carries off with aplomb. Cathy
married Neil Mitchell, an attorney, whose parents had employed Cathy’s mother
as a maid. Here’s a scene of Cathy having lunch with her overbearing
mother-in-law:
“’Do explain what
you mean, Mrs. Mitchell.’
’It’s just that I’m asking myself why does Neil go out so much for
work, why do you not have a social life, give dinner parties, go to clubs? I
mean are you a member of any clubs, tell me? It’s just, I worry
when a young couple don’t have a healthy social life. One begins to wonder
why.’
’We both work fairly hard, and I think we can safely say that Neil cares
hugely about his clients and about justice being done, so this naturally
takes up a lot of his time. I think that must be it, don’t you?’
’Well, yes, of course, of course, that goes without saying, it’s just that I
wondered, perhaps, if you were to…Well if you were to try and…’ She seemed to
lose the words.
’If I were to what, Mrs. Mitchell?’ Cathy was genuinely interested now. What
on earth was the woman going to suggest? That Cathy should learn some new and
devastating sexual techniques, or give dinner parties twice a week inviting
politicians and the media? She waited with interest.
’Well, that you should smarten yourself up a little.’ Mrs. Mitchell was
diffident. But once she had said it she was sticking to it. ‘It’s just that
possibly you’ve been so busy with work and everything…that you haven’t had
time to stop and take a good look at yourself.’
Cathy did not know whether to feel humiliated or amused. It was so
patronizing for one woman to tell another that she need to clean up her act.
Yet this advice was being given by a woman aged sixty, with her hair scraped
up in a style that was ten years out of date, squeezed into a wool suit one
size too small, wearing a nail color that had not been seen outside pantomime
for decades. Hannah Mitchell, whose hard, made-over face and mink coat made
her a caricature was daring to offer Cathy advice.
’And where do you think I could start? she asked in a level voice.
’Well, your hair, of course, and to show you how much I really mean it I’ve
got you a gift certificate for Hayward’s.’ Mrs. Mitchell pulled out an
envelope.
’I can’t possibly accept this,’ Cathy began.
’But you must. I don’t think I gave you a proper Christmas present,
and let this be it. You did such a delightful job catering our New Year’s Eve
party, a lot of people have spoken of it so well since. The very least I can
do is start you off on some kind of makeover.’
Cathy stared glumly at the envelope.
’And do get your nails done at the same time, have nail extension maybe, won’t
you? There’s a good girl. If there’s anything a man likes to see on a woman,
it’s long, groomed nails.’
’You know, Mrs. Mitchell, I’ll certainly think about the hairdo but if you
don’t mind, I think I’ll pass on the nails. You see in our job nail
extensions would be a bit dangerous---we could lose them making pastry, for
example.’ Cathy tried to be lighthearted. It was the only alternative to
doing what he really felt like doing which was standing up and pushing over
the dining table into her mother-in-law’s lap.
’Well.’ Mrs. Mitchell sounded sad and disappointed, as someone who had done
her best but failed in the end, thanks to Cathy’s gross stupidity.
’But truly I am grateful for your kindness, Mrs. Mitchell. And for this
lunch.
They had just put the fish in front of them, and Hannah was looking at it
suspiciously. ‘Is it properly filleted?’ she asked the waiter.
’I hope so madam. Very often a tiny bone escapes, but I think you will find
great care has been taken.’ Cathy winked at the waiter as Hannah peered at
her plate. She knew him well from her nights working here. He kept a solemn
face. Brenda Brennan ran a tight ship at Quentin’s He didn’t want to be
spotted mocking the customers.”
Scarlet
Feather is full of abundant scenes like this one, full of good dialogue
and restrained emotion. Enjoy reading it.
Steve Hopkins, May 10, 2001
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