Although it begins somewhere else, Close Quarters is mostly concerned with Margot Macfayden. Readers may remember that in Jutland Cottage, Margot was the daughter of impoverished and ailing Admiral and Mrs. Phelps. She worked hard, day in and out, maintaining their house and keeping the goats and chickens without much of a thought for herself until Rose Fairweather took her in hand. At the same time, others pitched in to alleviate her condition by visiting her parents so she could get away sometimes. Nevertheless, the wealthy, older Mr. Macfayden found her crying in the henhouse one day and proposed.
At the beginning of Close Quarters, Mr. Macfayden dies after only five years of marriage, and aside from her natural grief, Margot finds herself again at a crossroads. Her parents are now cared for, but she thinks perhaps she should live with them again. However, she doesn’t want to.
She knows the Luftons would like to reclaim the house she’s been leasing, so she starts looking for a house, but she can’t find anything suitable. No one but the readers know that Canon Fewling (Tubby to his friends) suffered a great disappointment when he learned she was engaged.
Although I found the ending of this book more touching than the last few, there were several occasions when Thirkell repeated conversations that she has not only had in other books but that had already appeared in this one, as if she couldn’t remember what she had written. The story of Mr. Wickham’s reluctant proposal to Margot is repeated three or four times, for example, while a snobby conversation about common mispronunciations occurs more than once. There is a stupid recurring joke about the Parkinsons’ last name that I don’t understand but suspect is more snobbery, and several different people opine that Mrs. Parkinson wears the pants in the family. Also, Margot’s lack of undergarments when Rose took her in hand is mentioned again.
Maybe I’m getting tired of Thirkell’s little conversational tidbits, but they seem also to occur more often. I liked the central theme of this book but disliked a lot of the chatter. And that’s disappointing, because often the chatter is amusing. Anyway, only two more books to go.
whatmeread 
I was surprised at the overall melancholy tone of this entry in the series. Certainly, sad things do happen in many of the Barsetshire books, but to me this one felt overlaid with both the grief of loss and the sorrow of watching a loved one decline.
I thought Margot’s internal conflict over whether or not she should move back in with her parents was handled well. The way she alternated between feeling guilty and her own need for independence was very relatable.
I was even more surprised that the book flap (a 1958 Knopf hardcover that I got from the library) revealed three major plot points, including one that happened on the very last page of the novel. Talk about spoilers!
It is sad to see the decline in an author’s skill as they age. There are several of the earlier, snappier books in the series that I know I’d enjoy re-reading, but I’m not sure about revisiting these final few.
I’m not sure it ended on a melancholy note, but maybe your adjective is a fair one. But good heavens! I can’t believe Knopf revealed the ending of the book!
Bittersweet might be a better adjective for the ending, since it did include both the joy of an engagement and the sorrow of a loss. I was happy with the way it ended for the surviving characters. The end definitely had a hopeful note.
Earlier this year I read a copy of Under the Greenwood Tree by Thomas Hardy that included a synopsis of the *entire* plot on the book flap. I’m trying to discipline myself not to read the flaps, but it’s a hard habit to break.
Maybe that’s why I don’t read the flaps anymore. I usually have no idea what a book is going to be about when I start it.
This sounds like a wise practice. How do you find it impacts your reading experience to go in blind?
Sometimes I think, what is this about now? but usually I don’t peak.
I, too, have noticed repeats in Thirkell’s later books. I also notice that her plots seem a bit more contrived, as if she’s searching her long cast of characters and making sure they all have “happily-ever-after” endings. These don’t bother me as much as the constant hammering on the girls being pretty and must be married. I’m SO glad that some women broke that mold, and now women feel they have other opportunities.
Still, even with these shortcomings, I wish these books would be recorded on Audible. I like to go to sleep listening to a book, and these would be perfect: no mayhem, no melodrama, just everyday people in a small area at a certain time meeting life’s challenges. I love Christie, but murder’s hardly slumber-inducing!!
Sue
She certainly doesn’t seem to have much of a notion that a woman can have a happy ending without being married, even the long-laboring Miss Merriman. She was of her time. Even now, a lot of people think that way.
You’d think an editor would have picked up all those repetitions. I sometimes wonder what editors actually do.
Nothing much anymore except publicize books, I fear.
What a shame that this had repeats – had she given up being edited or refused to be, I wonder (like Iris Murdoch did) or did her publisher just churn them out. I expect she did feel the need to tie up all plot points …
I don’t know. She was 68 by this time, but that shouldn’t have been too old. Maybe she was just tired.