What do you think?
Rate this book
Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont
On a rainy Sunday in January, the recently widowed Mrs. Palfrey arrives at the Claremont Hotel where she will spend her remaining days. Her fellow residents are magnificently eccentric and endlessly curious, living off crumbs of affection and snippets of gossip. Together, upper lips stiffened, they fight off their twin enemies—boredom and the Grim Reaper. Then one day Mrs. Palfrey strikes up an unexpected friendship with Ludo, a handsome young writer, and learns that even the old can fall in love.
232 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1971
About the author
Elizabeth Taylor
192 books467 followersElizabeth Taylor (née Coles) was a popular English novelist and short story writer. Elizabeth Coles was born in Reading, Berkshire in 1912. She was educated at The Abbey School, Reading, and worked as a governess, as a tutor and as a librarian.
In 1936, she married John William Kendall Taylor, a businessman. She lived in Penn, Buckinghamshire, for almost all her married life.
Her first novel, At Mrs. Lippincote's, was published in 1945 and was followed by eleven more. Her short stories were published in various magazines and collected in four volumes. She also wrote a children's book.
Taylor's work is mainly concerned with the nuances of "everyday" life and situations, which she writes about with dexterity. Her shrewd but affectionate portrayals of middle class and upper middle class English life won her an audience of discriminating readers, as well as loyal friends in the world of letters.
She was a friend of the novelist Ivy Compton-Burnett and of the novelist and critic Robert Liddell.
Elizabeth Taylor died at age 63 of cancer.
Anne Tyler once compared Taylor to Jane Austen, Barbara Pym and Elizabeth Bowen -- "soul sisters all," in Tyler's words . In recent years new interest has been kindled by movie makers in her work. French director Francois Ozon, has made "The Real Life of Angel Deverell" which will be released in early 2005. American director Dan Ireland's screen adaptation of Taylor's "Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont" came out in this country first in 2006 and has made close to $1 million. A British distributor picked it up at Cannes, and the movie was released in England in 2009.
In 1936, she married John William Kendall Taylor, a businessman. She lived in Penn, Buckinghamshire, for almost all her married life.
Her first novel, At Mrs. Lippincote's, was published in 1945 and was followed by eleven more. Her short stories were published in various magazines and collected in four volumes. She also wrote a children's book.
Taylor's work is mainly concerned with the nuances of "everyday" life and situations, which she writes about with dexterity. Her shrewd but affectionate portrayals of middle class and upper middle class English life won her an audience of discriminating readers, as well as loyal friends in the world of letters.
She was a friend of the novelist Ivy Compton-Burnett and of the novelist and critic Robert Liddell.
Elizabeth Taylor died at age 63 of cancer.
Anne Tyler once compared Taylor to Jane Austen, Barbara Pym and Elizabeth Bowen -- "soul sisters all," in Tyler's words . In recent years new interest has been kindled by movie makers in her work. French director Francois Ozon, has made "The Real Life of Angel Deverell" which will be released in early 2005. American director Dan Ireland's screen adaptation of Taylor's "Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont" came out in this country first in 2006 and has made close to $1 million. A British distributor picked it up at Cannes, and the movie was released in England in 2009.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,573 reviews
February 6, 2023
Keeping up appearances
Brilliant, just brilliant.
My first foray into the work of the other Elizabeth Taylor propelled me up one side and down the other emotionally.
As a tragic-comical tale on aging, loneliness, loss, friendship, isolation and dignity written in a punchy and superb prose, Mrs Palfrey at the Claremont made me simultaneously chuckle because of some of Elizabeth Taylor’s delightfully understated, playful observations and gasp for air because of the bleak, devastating picture it paints of the potentially cumbersome and debilitating journey down to the grave when one has pulled the lucky straw of longevity.
Having a soft spot for hotel (and boarding house) settings in fiction (In a German Pension: 13 Stories, Villa des Roses, Twenty-Four Hours in the Life of a Woman, Grand Hotel, Hotel du Lac), the Claremont hotel in London turned out quite an unusual species: for the elderly residents of Hotel Claremont, the hotel is not of the cheerful holiday or escape sort, but serving as the penultimate residence where one is tolerated on earth. The hotel offers its guests cleaning, washing and meals (much like the ‘hotel facilities’ in a nursing home) – and like in such an old people’s home, when every day starts looking the same and one’s life is reigned by loneliness and boredom, mealtimes become inordinately important:
None wished to appear greedy, or obsessed by food; but food made the breaks in the day, and menus offered a little choosing, and satisfactions and disappointments, as once life had.
While the abilities of the residents are deteriorating, they are very well aware the next stage before the final closing chapter will only be worse. Subsequently, the residents of the hotel make a sport of pretending and desperately keep up appearances not to be send off to the waiting room for death where they will be deprived of all privacy and independence. Their microcosmic charade also includes showing their lasting import to their families and relatives to the other residents, which brings Mrs Palfrey to introduce to their circle a perfect stranger as a stand-in grandson– the actual grandson not bothering a moment to pay her a visit, her daughter too busy with her own affairs.
Mrs Palfrey’s accomplice Ludo is also in want for some family relations and even in their ersatz games finds in Mrs Palfrey features of a grandmother offering him more tenderness and affection than he experienced from his own selfish mother, despite the mutual exploitation in their relationship of which only Ludo is conscious (being an aspiring writer, Ludo will use Mrs Palfrey as material, struck by her remark that ‘the residents weren't allowed to die in the hotel’).
People are sorry for brides who lose their husbands early, from some accident, or war. And they should be sorry, Mrs Palfrey thought. But the other thing is worse.
Steeped in stoic melancholy, subtly heart-breaking. sobering and wry, garnished with sharp and witty observations on class, the ignorance and disdain of emotional needs when aging, femininity and widow(er)hood, Mrs Palfrey at the Claremont is a marvellous novel that went straight to my shelf of favourites and to the top five of books I read in 2022. Elizabeth Taylor’s writing resonated with me in a similar vein as what I read so far by Penelope Fitzgerald and Anita Brookner; a very big thank you to my friends for encouraging me to read her.
Brilliant, just brilliant.
My first foray into the work of the other Elizabeth Taylor propelled me up one side and down the other emotionally.
As a tragic-comical tale on aging, loneliness, loss, friendship, isolation and dignity written in a punchy and superb prose, Mrs Palfrey at the Claremont made me simultaneously chuckle because of some of Elizabeth Taylor’s delightfully understated, playful observations and gasp for air because of the bleak, devastating picture it paints of the potentially cumbersome and debilitating journey down to the grave when one has pulled the lucky straw of longevity.
Having a soft spot for hotel (and boarding house) settings in fiction (In a German Pension: 13 Stories, Villa des Roses, Twenty-Four Hours in the Life of a Woman, Grand Hotel, Hotel du Lac), the Claremont hotel in London turned out quite an unusual species: for the elderly residents of Hotel Claremont, the hotel is not of the cheerful holiday or escape sort, but serving as the penultimate residence where one is tolerated on earth. The hotel offers its guests cleaning, washing and meals (much like the ‘hotel facilities’ in a nursing home) – and like in such an old people’s home, when every day starts looking the same and one’s life is reigned by loneliness and boredom, mealtimes become inordinately important:
None wished to appear greedy, or obsessed by food; but food made the breaks in the day, and menus offered a little choosing, and satisfactions and disappointments, as once life had.
While the abilities of the residents are deteriorating, they are very well aware the next stage before the final closing chapter will only be worse. Subsequently, the residents of the hotel make a sport of pretending and desperately keep up appearances not to be send off to the waiting room for death where they will be deprived of all privacy and independence. Their microcosmic charade also includes showing their lasting import to their families and relatives to the other residents, which brings Mrs Palfrey to introduce to their circle a perfect stranger as a stand-in grandson– the actual grandson not bothering a moment to pay her a visit, her daughter too busy with her own affairs.
Mrs Palfrey’s accomplice Ludo is also in want for some family relations and even in their ersatz games finds in Mrs Palfrey features of a grandmother offering him more tenderness and affection than he experienced from his own selfish mother, despite the mutual exploitation in their relationship of which only Ludo is conscious (being an aspiring writer, Ludo will use Mrs Palfrey as material, struck by her remark that ‘the residents weren't allowed to die in the hotel’).
People are sorry for brides who lose their husbands early, from some accident, or war. And they should be sorry, Mrs Palfrey thought. But the other thing is worse.
Steeped in stoic melancholy, subtly heart-breaking. sobering and wry, garnished with sharp and witty observations on class, the ignorance and disdain of emotional needs when aging, femininity and widow(er)hood, Mrs Palfrey at the Claremont is a marvellous novel that went straight to my shelf of favourites and to the top five of books I read in 2022. Elizabeth Taylor’s writing resonated with me in a similar vein as what I read so far by Penelope Fitzgerald and Anita Brookner; a very big thank you to my friends for encouraging me to read her.
December 4, 2021
Life can be cruel. I think we all can agree on that. Cruel, at all stages.
Childhood (kids can be the worst, can't they?). Don't forget high school (oh, the agony and awkwardness of puberty and finding one's place!). Young adulthood (the first broken heart, the first bounced cheque, what, I'm supposed to know what I'm going to BE now?). Then comes the time when you realize you aren't the youngest person in the room any more (okay, Boomer).
This darling novel written by Elizabeth Taylor - no, not THAT one, there are no white diamonds or violet eyes on parade here - examines the particular cruelty that comes with old age. Perhaps it's the worst of all. The final cruelty.
Mrs. Laura Palfrey, a once dignified and sensible diplomat's wife, finds herself in the Claremont Hotel in London, a modest residence for elderly, forgotten people. Think "Fawlty Towers", but with a whole lot less amusing shenanigans. Mrs. Palfrey's only daughter is remarkably uncaring, and her friends are vaguely indifferent. Never one to impose herself on others, she stays at the Claremont, which becomes an exercise in whiling away hours and days and seasons. Living through loneliness and emptiness.
I must not wish my life away, she told herself; but she knew that, as she got older, she looked at her watch more often, and that it was always earlier than she had thought it would be. When she was young, it had always been later.
One day, Mrs. Palfrey falls - and a young man comes to her aid. Thus begins a remarkable friendship. But never fear! This isn't a sweet, sentimental tale of a chivalrous boy who makes life worth living for a lonely widow. Taylor's lens is never syrupy. She sees the world quite as it is, which means sometimes it's sweet, and other times it's cruel, and when you're lucky, it makes you laugh.
Reading this book is like sinking into a warm bath. It's reliably poignant, honest, and funny. Also, there are Easter eggs here, strange little treasures for those who find them. A young man who is an aspiring writer, knows the "dreadful despair" of wasting time at the page. Hitchcock-style cameo appearances of a character named Elizabeth and another called Miss Taylor. An old guy who likes torturing the hotel staff with lurid stories such as one featuring "the most enormous sex organ. Quite enormous." And, the small acts of kindness which actually mean the world, to both young and old.
I have NO idea why the wonderful not-the-actress Elizabeth Taylor isn't more widely read, but she should be. This is a quiet little masterpiece. Read it, because life can be cruel, but it can also, like this book, be a gift.
Childhood (kids can be the worst, can't they?). Don't forget high school (oh, the agony and awkwardness of puberty and finding one's place!). Young adulthood (the first broken heart, the first bounced cheque, what, I'm supposed to know what I'm going to BE now?). Then comes the time when you realize you aren't the youngest person in the room any more (okay, Boomer).
This darling novel written by Elizabeth Taylor - no, not THAT one, there are no white diamonds or violet eyes on parade here - examines the particular cruelty that comes with old age. Perhaps it's the worst of all. The final cruelty.
Mrs. Laura Palfrey, a once dignified and sensible diplomat's wife, finds herself in the Claremont Hotel in London, a modest residence for elderly, forgotten people. Think "Fawlty Towers", but with a whole lot less amusing shenanigans. Mrs. Palfrey's only daughter is remarkably uncaring, and her friends are vaguely indifferent. Never one to impose herself on others, she stays at the Claremont, which becomes an exercise in whiling away hours and days and seasons. Living through loneliness and emptiness.
I must not wish my life away, she told herself; but she knew that, as she got older, she looked at her watch more often, and that it was always earlier than she had thought it would be. When she was young, it had always been later.
One day, Mrs. Palfrey falls - and a young man comes to her aid. Thus begins a remarkable friendship. But never fear! This isn't a sweet, sentimental tale of a chivalrous boy who makes life worth living for a lonely widow. Taylor's lens is never syrupy. She sees the world quite as it is, which means sometimes it's sweet, and other times it's cruel, and when you're lucky, it makes you laugh.
Reading this book is like sinking into a warm bath. It's reliably poignant, honest, and funny. Also, there are Easter eggs here, strange little treasures for those who find them. A young man who is an aspiring writer, knows the "dreadful despair" of wasting time at the page. Hitchcock-style cameo appearances of a character named Elizabeth and another called Miss Taylor. An old guy who likes torturing the hotel staff with lurid stories such as one featuring "the most enormous sex organ. Quite enormous." And, the small acts of kindness which actually mean the world, to both young and old.
I have NO idea why the wonderful not-the-actress Elizabeth Taylor isn't more widely read, but she should be. This is a quiet little masterpiece. Read it, because life can be cruel, but it can also, like this book, be a gift.
December 14, 2021
As I closed the back cover of this little British beauty published in 1971, a new reading category (and shelf) was born: books that I could read forever.
Let me clarify: not books that I'd like to jump into, or live in.
Books that I could read forever.
I could have gladly visited with the elderly residents of the Claremont Hotel every day of my life and not tired of them. I guess I could compare this to my habit of watching “General Hospital” religiously throughout the 1980s. You buy into the ensemble cast, you get attached, you want to know what's going on in that other world.
When I reached the last page, I felt positively forlorn.
This one ended like a gasping sob at the back of my throat.
Kind of like this year.
It was beginning to grow dusk as Mrs. Palfrey, triumphantly clasping the latest Snow [novel], returned from the library, from one quiet and now familiar street to another. A drizzle blurred lights and slimed pavements. She walked slowly, feeling tired, keeping close to the railings of areas. Basement windows in those streets were lit up and some had curtains still undrawn, so that she could see—though a little ashamed of looking—the interiors of rooms, sometimes bleak kitchens, sometimes cosy sitting-rooms with a tablecloth laid and a bird in a cage.
Let me clarify: not books that I'd like to jump into, or live in.
Books that I could read forever.
I could have gladly visited with the elderly residents of the Claremont Hotel every day of my life and not tired of them. I guess I could compare this to my habit of watching “General Hospital” religiously throughout the 1980s. You buy into the ensemble cast, you get attached, you want to know what's going on in that other world.
When I reached the last page, I felt positively forlorn.
This one ended like a gasping sob at the back of my throat.
Kind of like this year.
It was beginning to grow dusk as Mrs. Palfrey, triumphantly clasping the latest Snow [novel], returned from the library, from one quiet and now familiar street to another. A drizzle blurred lights and slimed pavements. She walked slowly, feeling tired, keeping close to the railings of areas. Basement windows in those streets were lit up and some had curtains still undrawn, so that she could see—though a little ashamed of looking—the interiors of rooms, sometimes bleak kitchens, sometimes cosy sitting-rooms with a tablecloth laid and a bird in a cage.
February 11, 2019
Re-read in January 2016
It hasn't lost any of its shine.
It was this author's inevitable fate to be known as the other Elizabeth Taylor, especially as her first
novel appeared a year after the twelve year old star of National Velvet blanketed all associations with the name. In this review of Nicola Beauman's biography we're told of one blossoming of confusion:
Elizabeth Taylor the novelist occasionally received fan letters intended for her more famous namesake. "Men write to me and ask for a picture of me in my bikini," she told the Times in 1971. "My husband thinks I should send one and shake them, but I have not got a bikini."
That makes her sound awfully sweet doesn't it? Gently humorous, and indeed it seems that she has been dismissed in the past as writing small canvas miniatures of teacup rituals. But she is anything but fluffy. No, no fluffy kitty, but a sinuous siamese with claws, with lethal claws. Her writing is a glitteringly sharp instrument of steel, as hard as a diamond. There's not a breath of sentimentality here: she is ruthless. This novel of loneliness is utterly devastating. The Claremont hotel is a vision of hell, bleak ante room to death, but not in any fantastical sense, no, that is the terrifying thing. This is the real world, ruled by absurdity, by the desperate attempt to save face and by Mrs Arbuthnot of the pale blue eyes, arbiter of propriety and literary taste.
At the same time it is screamingly, achingly, painfully funny. There's the typical British obsession with social embarrassment: sitting in a quiet room with perfect strangers requires coughing over stomach gurglings and further quick thinking. "Well, another Sunday nearly gone" Mrs Post said quickly, to cover a little fart. She had presence of mind.. The same Mrs Post is the only one who knows the elderly actress who's been hauled in to impress at a party, but is less than tactful when she reminisces about seeing said actress as Mrs Darling when she took her little nephew to see Peter Pan, and then goes on to mention that he's now a married man himself with teenage children. The actress would dearly like to drift away from Mrs Post, but she seemed the only one who had ever heard of her, so she decides to bully her rather than dazzle.
That is where Elizabeth-Taylor-the-novelist shines: she sees those cruelties that we use to ward off the careless cruelties of others. And yet she's deeply sympathetic, even warm, towards these people heroically struggling to retain a smidgen of dignity, while at the same time exposing their foolishness. Funny, and poignant, and bleak, and scathing, all at once. And resolutely unsentimental.
In a recent review of Two Lives, GR friend Tony moots the idea that Mr Trevor may be a touch scarier to know than his twinkly image suggests. This is precisely what I feel about Ms Taylor-the-novelist. She may have fostered her image as a bland housewife, chronicler of the domestic. But there is steel under the powder and lipstick and pearls. And she would observe and store away your stumblings and expose you to crimson embarrassment. No sweat.
It hasn't lost any of its shine.
It was this author's inevitable fate to be known as the other Elizabeth Taylor, especially as her first
novel appeared a year after the twelve year old star of National Velvet blanketed all associations with the name. In this review of Nicola Beauman's biography we're told of one blossoming of confusion:
Elizabeth Taylor the novelist occasionally received fan letters intended for her more famous namesake. "Men write to me and ask for a picture of me in my bikini," she told the Times in 1971. "My husband thinks I should send one and shake them, but I have not got a bikini."
That makes her sound awfully sweet doesn't it? Gently humorous, and indeed it seems that she has been dismissed in the past as writing small canvas miniatures of teacup rituals. But she is anything but fluffy. No, no fluffy kitty, but a sinuous siamese with claws, with lethal claws. Her writing is a glitteringly sharp instrument of steel, as hard as a diamond. There's not a breath of sentimentality here: she is ruthless. This novel of loneliness is utterly devastating. The Claremont hotel is a vision of hell, bleak ante room to death, but not in any fantastical sense, no, that is the terrifying thing. This is the real world, ruled by absurdity, by the desperate attempt to save face and by Mrs Arbuthnot of the pale blue eyes, arbiter of propriety and literary taste.
At the same time it is screamingly, achingly, painfully funny. There's the typical British obsession with social embarrassment: sitting in a quiet room with perfect strangers requires coughing over stomach gurglings and further quick thinking. "Well, another Sunday nearly gone" Mrs Post said quickly, to cover a little fart. She had presence of mind.. The same Mrs Post is the only one who knows the elderly actress who's been hauled in to impress at a party, but is less than tactful when she reminisces about seeing said actress as Mrs Darling when she took her little nephew to see Peter Pan, and then goes on to mention that he's now a married man himself with teenage children. The actress would dearly like to drift away from Mrs Post, but she seemed the only one who had ever heard of her, so she decides to bully her rather than dazzle.
That is where Elizabeth-Taylor-the-novelist shines: she sees those cruelties that we use to ward off the careless cruelties of others. And yet she's deeply sympathetic, even warm, towards these people heroically struggling to retain a smidgen of dignity, while at the same time exposing their foolishness. Funny, and poignant, and bleak, and scathing, all at once. And resolutely unsentimental.
In a recent review of Two Lives, GR friend Tony moots the idea that Mr Trevor may be a touch scarier to know than his twinkly image suggests. This is precisely what I feel about Ms Taylor-the-novelist. She may have fostered her image as a bland housewife, chronicler of the domestic. But there is steel under the powder and lipstick and pearls. And she would observe and store away your stumblings and expose you to crimson embarrassment. No sweat.
August 25, 2018
Old middle-class people mouldering away bleakly in a London residential hotel around 1968 (nice Beatles reference, Union Jack carrier bags and political demonstrations on the telly every night). It’s a black comedy which it has to be otherwise you would slit your wrists. The reader will have a suppressed grim smile throughout which may widen at times but no lols. Author is merciless about the horrors of geriatric society, for which (try to be grateful) all medical advances are preparing us.
February 6, 2023
Elizabeth Taylor saved her best for last. Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont is nothing short of perfection.
Only 63 when she passed away in 1975, Mrs. Taylor obviously was a keen observer of the elderly around her or feeling symptoms of her own age prematurely. The group of elderly people living at the Claremont, trying to squeeze a last drop of life from their waning years, are as believable and real as any you will find in any retirement home near you. Mrs. Palfrey is mesmerizing in the accuracy of her feelings. If you have crossed that invisible line that leads toward old age, you will feel akin to her almost immediately.
She realised that she never walked now without knowing what she was doing and concentrating upon it; once, walking had been like breathing, something unheeded. The disaster of being old was in not feeling safe to venture anywhere, of seeing freedom put out of reach.
I am not quite at that stage of life, but I will admit to feeling more cautious about so many things that I used to think nothing of at all. Stepping on a ladder to change a light bulb, doing a job that requires getting down on the floor and rising again without anything to hold to, trimming trees and hauling the limbs out–all jobs I now approach with less confidence and more vigilance.
Mrs. Palfrey’s reflections on her husband and her marriage felt like blows to me, as well, having just lost my own. Coupled with the pain of that reflection, was a clear and poignant feeling of kinship. I will be finding out what it is like to not have the support and love of the man you have shared your life with. I can already tell you, I feel what Mrs. Palfrey feels.
She could picture his hands with the tongs – a strong, authoritative hand, with hair growing on it. If I had known at the time how happy I was, she decided now, it would only have spoiled it. I took it for granted. That was much better. I don’t regret that.
They became more and more to one another and, in the end, the perfect marriage they had created was like a work of art. People are sorry for brides who lose their husbands early, from some accident, or war. And they should be sorry, Mrs Palfrey thought. But the other thing is worse.
And this one that was almost too hard to bear for me at this moment in my life:
The silence was strange – a Sunday-afternoon silence and strangeness; and for the moment her heart lurched, staggered in appalled despair, as it had done once before when she had suddenly realised, or suddenly could no longer not realise that her husband at death’s door was surely going through it. Against all hope, in the face of all her prayers.
Then there is Ludo, the young man who rescues her from a fall and becomes a part of her life and her old age–a balm from the unavoidable loneliness. Finding Mrs. Palfrey is as important an event to Ludo as it is to her, whether he realizes it or not, for he learns so much from the relationship, and each of them fills a void in the other. He comes to understand old age in a much different light than he has initially.
For the first time, he saw that one might live long enough to be grateful for the Claremont.
As a writer, his interest in her begins as almost a character study, but the kindness in him is instinctive and his feelings become genuine over time. He is a good man at heart, and the awkwardness fades, while the relationship builds. I think what he gets from Mrs. Palfrey is priceless.
Perhaps one of the themes I loved the most in this novel is that of family, how we lose them or never have them, and how they can be fashioned from outside our traditional views. Ludo and Mrs. Palfrey form one kind of family, and the group of old people at the Claremont form another kind of family. While the “real” families here leave much to be desired, these non-traditional families do not, because they choose to care for one another in the best way that they can.
I hope I have not said too much about the plot of this book. I try very hard not to spoil anything for an upcoming reader. It is, as all Elizabeth Taylor’s novels are, a subtle examination of the human soul, with a quiet plot to propel it forward. I hope that anyone who has not read it already will feel compelled to do so. It is a marvelous read that will leave you laughing and crying and very grateful for the glimpse of humanity it contains.
I must not wish my life away, she told herself; but she knew that, as she got older, she looked at her watch more often, and that it was always earlier than she had thought it would be. When she was young, it had always been later.
Only 63 when she passed away in 1975, Mrs. Taylor obviously was a keen observer of the elderly around her or feeling symptoms of her own age prematurely. The group of elderly people living at the Claremont, trying to squeeze a last drop of life from their waning years, are as believable and real as any you will find in any retirement home near you. Mrs. Palfrey is mesmerizing in the accuracy of her feelings. If you have crossed that invisible line that leads toward old age, you will feel akin to her almost immediately.
She realised that she never walked now without knowing what she was doing and concentrating upon it; once, walking had been like breathing, something unheeded. The disaster of being old was in not feeling safe to venture anywhere, of seeing freedom put out of reach.
I am not quite at that stage of life, but I will admit to feeling more cautious about so many things that I used to think nothing of at all. Stepping on a ladder to change a light bulb, doing a job that requires getting down on the floor and rising again without anything to hold to, trimming trees and hauling the limbs out–all jobs I now approach with less confidence and more vigilance.
Mrs. Palfrey’s reflections on her husband and her marriage felt like blows to me, as well, having just lost my own. Coupled with the pain of that reflection, was a clear and poignant feeling of kinship. I will be finding out what it is like to not have the support and love of the man you have shared your life with. I can already tell you, I feel what Mrs. Palfrey feels.
She could picture his hands with the tongs – a strong, authoritative hand, with hair growing on it. If I had known at the time how happy I was, she decided now, it would only have spoiled it. I took it for granted. That was much better. I don’t regret that.
They became more and more to one another and, in the end, the perfect marriage they had created was like a work of art. People are sorry for brides who lose their husbands early, from some accident, or war. And they should be sorry, Mrs Palfrey thought. But the other thing is worse.
And this one that was almost too hard to bear for me at this moment in my life:
The silence was strange – a Sunday-afternoon silence and strangeness; and for the moment her heart lurched, staggered in appalled despair, as it had done once before when she had suddenly realised, or suddenly could no longer not realise that her husband at death’s door was surely going through it. Against all hope, in the face of all her prayers.
Then there is Ludo, the young man who rescues her from a fall and becomes a part of her life and her old age–a balm from the unavoidable loneliness. Finding Mrs. Palfrey is as important an event to Ludo as it is to her, whether he realizes it or not, for he learns so much from the relationship, and each of them fills a void in the other. He comes to understand old age in a much different light than he has initially.
For the first time, he saw that one might live long enough to be grateful for the Claremont.
As a writer, his interest in her begins as almost a character study, but the kindness in him is instinctive and his feelings become genuine over time. He is a good man at heart, and the awkwardness fades, while the relationship builds. I think what he gets from Mrs. Palfrey is priceless.
Perhaps one of the themes I loved the most in this novel is that of family, how we lose them or never have them, and how they can be fashioned from outside our traditional views. Ludo and Mrs. Palfrey form one kind of family, and the group of old people at the Claremont form another kind of family. While the “real” families here leave much to be desired, these non-traditional families do not, because they choose to care for one another in the best way that they can.
I hope I have not said too much about the plot of this book. I try very hard not to spoil anything for an upcoming reader. It is, as all Elizabeth Taylor’s novels are, a subtle examination of the human soul, with a quiet plot to propel it forward. I hope that anyone who has not read it already will feel compelled to do so. It is a marvelous read that will leave you laughing and crying and very grateful for the glimpse of humanity it contains.
I must not wish my life away, she told herself; but she knew that, as she got older, she looked at her watch more often, and that it was always earlier than she had thought it would be. When she was young, it had always been later.
November 24, 2018
La novela más conmovedora que leí en mi vida. Creo que su efecto tuvo que ver con el arte de Elizabeth Taylor para volver a los personajes bien reales a partir de la observación de detalles de la vida cotidiana. ¿La historia? Simple pero no por eso deja de ser genial. Una mujer se aloja en un hotel que se ha convertido en una especie de geriátrico, aunque no del todo porque es el último lujo antes de la decadencia total. Nadie la va a ver. Y entonces en la calle conoce al joven Ludo. No quiero decir más pero es una novela de amor sobre todo. Preparen pañuelos para el final. Maravillosa.
November 21, 2023
I absolutely adored this book. If it hadn't been for the ending, it would have been one of my all-time favourites.
Damn that ending.
Damn that ending.
February 10, 2023
‘Mrs Palfrey first came to the Claremont Hotel on a Sunday afternoon in January. Rain had closed in over London…’
Coincidentally, I started reading this book on a rainy weekend in January! I soon realized that Mrs Palfrey is not on vacation. The Claremont is an alterative to a nursing home for the genteel elderly. On the threshold of a new life, Mrs Palfrey was rightfully ‘alarmed at the threat of her own depression.’ “if it’s not nice, I needn’t stay, she promised herself…” Oh, let it be nice for her.
The residents are three elderly widows and an old man: whisky-drinking Mrs Burton, arthritic Mrs Arbuthnot, complaining Mrs Post, and misogynistic Mr. Osmond. Taylor provided a nuanced description of life at the Claremont and what it felt like to be old, lonesome, and vulnerable. Filling the time is a daily quest, the monotony lifted when one has a visitor. Having a visitor to dinner is highly coveted and Mrs Palfrey finds herself drawn into the game the residents play of saving face when she has no visitors. Taylor was unsparing in revealing the insecurity, envy, fears, and less charitable traits of the residents as they each try to preserve the last vestige of dignity or respectability.
Sadness has a light touch in Taylor’s writing. Here is a description of Mrs. Burton: ‘Her face had really gone to pieces - with pouches and dewlaps and deep ravines, as if a landslide had happened.’ Not nice but I can picture it. Or this when one of the residents dies: ‘Memorial services were like the weddings of their youth and middle years. Now there were no more weddings for them, but the memorial services needed no invitations.’
One day, Mrs Palfrey meets Ludovic Myers (Ludo), a young man struggling to become a writer. This unexpected friendship is lovely to read, particularly when he shows up for dinner at the Claremont. Taylor keeps this relationship real and free from sentimentality. Reflecting on his relationship to Mrs Palfrey and Rosie (his love interest), Ludo thinks: ‘There was Mrs Palfrey doting on him, to his embarrassed boredom: and Rosie being doted on by him, to his exasperated sense of loss.’ Mrs Palfrey’s attention and gifts are not always welcome.
Another reading coincidence. In one scene, on a lonely weekend, Ludo was at a laundromat reading George Gissing! I was reading Gissing, too.
Mrs Palfrey at the Claremont is a compassionate story on aging, loss, loneliness, and vulnerability. At the Claremont, the residents are well aware that their stay is short - We Aren’t Allowed to Die Here. Their story which bears this title is finally written by Ludovic Myers.
Coincidentally, I started reading this book on a rainy weekend in January! I soon realized that Mrs Palfrey is not on vacation. The Claremont is an alterative to a nursing home for the genteel elderly. On the threshold of a new life, Mrs Palfrey was rightfully ‘alarmed at the threat of her own depression.’ “if it’s not nice, I needn’t stay, she promised herself…” Oh, let it be nice for her.
The residents are three elderly widows and an old man: whisky-drinking Mrs Burton, arthritic Mrs Arbuthnot, complaining Mrs Post, and misogynistic Mr. Osmond. Taylor provided a nuanced description of life at the Claremont and what it felt like to be old, lonesome, and vulnerable. Filling the time is a daily quest, the monotony lifted when one has a visitor. Having a visitor to dinner is highly coveted and Mrs Palfrey finds herself drawn into the game the residents play of saving face when she has no visitors. Taylor was unsparing in revealing the insecurity, envy, fears, and less charitable traits of the residents as they each try to preserve the last vestige of dignity or respectability.
Sadness has a light touch in Taylor’s writing. Here is a description of Mrs. Burton: ‘Her face had really gone to pieces - with pouches and dewlaps and deep ravines, as if a landslide had happened.’ Not nice but I can picture it. Or this when one of the residents dies: ‘Memorial services were like the weddings of their youth and middle years. Now there were no more weddings for them, but the memorial services needed no invitations.’
One day, Mrs Palfrey meets Ludovic Myers (Ludo), a young man struggling to become a writer. This unexpected friendship is lovely to read, particularly when he shows up for dinner at the Claremont. Taylor keeps this relationship real and free from sentimentality. Reflecting on his relationship to Mrs Palfrey and Rosie (his love interest), Ludo thinks: ‘There was Mrs Palfrey doting on him, to his embarrassed boredom: and Rosie being doted on by him, to his exasperated sense of loss.’ Mrs Palfrey’s attention and gifts are not always welcome.
Another reading coincidence. In one scene, on a lonely weekend, Ludo was at a laundromat reading George Gissing! I was reading Gissing, too.
Mrs Palfrey at the Claremont is a compassionate story on aging, loss, loneliness, and vulnerability. At the Claremont, the residents are well aware that their stay is short - We Aren’t Allowed to Die Here. Their story which bears this title is finally written by Ludovic Myers.
February 6, 2023
کتاب خانم پالفری در کلرمانت نوشته الیزابت تیلور نویسنده انگلیسی ایست . او در این کتاب با زبانی طنز زندگی سالمندان در لندن را در هتلی به نام کلرمانت به تصویر کشیده . او در این کتاب از سالمندان و درد پیری گفته و دنیای آنان را برای خواننده شرح داده است .
قهرمانان کتاب او افراد پیری هستند که به سبب وضع خوب مالی از زندگی کردن در خانه های سالمندان دولتی نجات پیدا کرده و در هتلی با امکانات مناسب زندگی می کنند اما عموما همان مشکلات سالمندان در همه جا را دارند .
خانم پالفری ، شخصیت اصلی کتاب یکی از آنهاست که اخیرا به کلرمانت نقل مکان کرده ، او به گروهی از سالمندان پیوسته است که گویا از جامعه طرد شده و دنیای آنان محصور به هتل کوچک و ساکنان آن شده است . حتی افراد خانواده هم با آنان تماس چندانی ندارند . هتل کلرمانت در حقیقت اولین ایستگاه آنان در سفر آخر است ، سفری که ایستگاه دوم آن بیمارستان وآخرین ایستگاه آگهی ترحیم در روزنامه است .
نویسنده زندگی این سالمندان مرفه را با مهارت و استادی بیان کرده ، توصیفات او هم رنج فیزیکی زندگی آنان را شامل می شود و هم زجری که از انتظار می کشند . کارهایی که قبلا برای آنان مانند نفس کشیدن بسیار راحت بوده حالا تبدیل به کاری شده که نیاز به تمرکز زیادی دارد . راه رفتن مهمترین آنان است که دیگر ع��لی ناخودآگاه و خود به خود نیست . راه رفتن است که می تواند آنان را بیشتر محصور در هتل کرده و آنان را یک گام به مقصد نهایی نزدیک کند .
از بین ساکنان هتل تنها خانم برتون است که رابطه خود را با دنیا بیرون حفظ کرده و بقیه افراد با حسرت به او و روابط خارج از هتل او نگاه می کنند . نگاه دیگر ساکنان هتل همواره به در است ودر انتظار فردی از دنیای خارج هستند . همین انتظار، فشار بسیاری بر سالمندان وارد کرده و همین است که سبب می شود خانم بالفری رابطه ای خیالی و نه چندان حقیقی با لودو بسازد .
خانم تیلور با مهارت و استادی جهان سالمندان را توصیف کرده . او روایتگر ترس ، بیم و تشویش افرادی شده که گویا زمان برای آنان تندتر می گذرد و آنان با گذشت هر ثانیه و دقیقه بیشتر و بیشتر به آگهی ترحیم نزدیک می شوند . سالمندان کتاب او افرادی هستند که هم شور و حال عاشقی دارند و هم یاد گرفته اند که از زندگی و گذر دقایق لذت ببرند . گویی آنها همان قدر شوق زیستن دارند که جوانان .
کتاب خانم پالفری در کلرمانت با وجود پایان تلخش ، سرشار از روح زندگی و اراده معطوف به حیات است . مهارت خانم تیلور را می توان در باور پذیر و ملموس بودن دنیای سالمندان دانست .
قهرمانان کتاب او افراد پیری هستند که به سبب وضع خوب مالی از زندگی کردن در خانه های سالمندان دولتی نجات پیدا کرده و در هتلی با امکانات مناسب زندگی می کنند اما عموما همان مشکلات سالمندان در همه جا را دارند .
خانم پالفری ، شخصیت اصلی کتاب یکی از آنهاست که اخیرا به کلرمانت نقل مکان کرده ، او به گروهی از سالمندان پیوسته است که گویا از جامعه طرد شده و دنیای آنان محصور به هتل کوچک و ساکنان آن شده است . حتی افراد خانواده هم با آنان تماس چندانی ندارند . هتل کلرمانت در حقیقت اولین ایستگاه آنان در سفر آخر است ، سفری که ایستگاه دوم آن بیمارستان وآخرین ایستگاه آگهی ترحیم در روزنامه است .
نویسنده زندگی این سالمندان مرفه را با مهارت و استادی بیان کرده ، توصیفات او هم رنج فیزیکی زندگی آنان را شامل می شود و هم زجری که از انتظار می کشند . کارهایی که قبلا برای آنان مانند نفس کشیدن بسیار راحت بوده حالا تبدیل به کاری شده که نیاز به تمرکز زیادی دارد . راه رفتن مهمترین آنان است که دیگر ع��لی ناخودآگاه و خود به خود نیست . راه رفتن است که می تواند آنان را بیشتر محصور در هتل کرده و آنان را یک گام به مقصد نهایی نزدیک کند .
از بین ساکنان هتل تنها خانم برتون است که رابطه خود را با دنیا بیرون حفظ کرده و بقیه افراد با حسرت به او و روابط خارج از هتل او نگاه می کنند . نگاه دیگر ساکنان هتل همواره به در است ودر انتظار فردی از دنیای خارج هستند . همین انتظار، فشار بسیاری بر سالمندان وارد کرده و همین است که سبب می شود خانم بالفری رابطه ای خیالی و نه چندان حقیقی با لودو بسازد .
خانم تیلور با مهارت و استادی جهان سالمندان را توصیف کرده . او روایتگر ترس ، بیم و تشویش افرادی شده که گویا زمان برای آنان تندتر می گذرد و آنان با گذشت هر ثانیه و دقیقه بیشتر و بیشتر به آگهی ترحیم نزدیک می شوند . سالمندان کتاب او افرادی هستند که هم شور و حال عاشقی دارند و هم یاد گرفته اند که از زندگی و گذر دقایق لذت ببرند . گویی آنها همان قدر شوق زیستن دارند که جوانان .
کتاب خانم پالفری در کلرمانت با وجود پایان تلخش ، سرشار از روح زندگی و اراده معطوف به حیات است . مهارت خانم تیلور را می توان در باور پذیر و ملموس بودن دنیای سالمندان دانست .
April 27, 2023
“‘One can always read a good book twice,’ Mrs Arbuthnot snapped. ‘In fact one always should read a good book twice.’” My impression of this, before rereading it for book club nine years later, was of a charming comedy with insights into ageing. This time, I experienced it as much bleaker. These genteel older people are crumbling as gracefully as they can, but a touch of incontinence and they’re outta there. (They Weren’t Allowed to Die There, as Ludo’s novel about the Claremont is titled.) I also disliked the stereotyping references to mannish old women and effeminate old men; Mrs. Palfrey is more than once described as looking like a man in drag. The last paragraph is a particularly bitter pill, . Her enduring friendship with Ludo is only small consolation. (My rating this time: 3.5 stars)
My review from 2014: (4.5) A charming little book about ageing and prejudice. The relationship between Mrs. Palfrey and Ludo, who masquerades as her grandson, is not, as the blurb might suggest, some tawdry cougar romance. “What a strange friendship we have” is Mrs. Palfrey’s better description. Taylor’s two main settings – a shabby-chic hotel with an enclave of elderly residents, and a miserable bedsit where Ludo’s struggling to write (a deliberate nod to George Gissing’s New Grub Street) – contrast wonderfully. Her habit of inserting asides from multiple minor characters reminds me of Jane Austen. Overall, the tone of gentle regret and enduring good humor lies somewhere between All Passion Spent and The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel.
As Paul Bailey writes in his introduction to this Virago edition, “[Taylor’s] reports from the chintz-bedecked battlefields are of lasting value, for the simple reason that they are exquisitely written.” I much preferred this to Angel. It’s a quick read with an almost fable-like simplicity of structure and character, but explores old age and life’s disappointments with great tenderness. I will read much more from this underrated novelist; A Wreath of Roses may tempt me next.
A few favourite lines, both times:
“The disaster of being old was in not feeling safe to venture anywhere, of seeing freedom put out of reach.”
“Oh well, he thought, we’re all saddled with our hearts. It was a strange old pumping outfit God had thought up on that last day – so Victorian, it seemed.”
a hospital nurse says of Mrs Palfrey: “She had such lovely manners. Always said ‘thank you’, even if she didn’t at all like what she got.”
My review from 2014: (4.5) A charming little book about ageing and prejudice. The relationship between Mrs. Palfrey and Ludo, who masquerades as her grandson, is not, as the blurb might suggest, some tawdry cougar romance. “What a strange friendship we have” is Mrs. Palfrey’s better description. Taylor’s two main settings – a shabby-chic hotel with an enclave of elderly residents, and a miserable bedsit where Ludo’s struggling to write (a deliberate nod to George Gissing’s New Grub Street) – contrast wonderfully. Her habit of inserting asides from multiple minor characters reminds me of Jane Austen. Overall, the tone of gentle regret and enduring good humor lies somewhere between All Passion Spent and The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel.
As Paul Bailey writes in his introduction to this Virago edition, “[Taylor’s] reports from the chintz-bedecked battlefields are of lasting value, for the simple reason that they are exquisitely written.” I much preferred this to Angel. It’s a quick read with an almost fable-like simplicity of structure and character, but explores old age and life’s disappointments with great tenderness. I will read much more from this underrated novelist; A Wreath of Roses may tempt me next.
A few favourite lines, both times:
“The disaster of being old was in not feeling safe to venture anywhere, of seeing freedom put out of reach.”
“Oh well, he thought, we’re all saddled with our hearts. It was a strange old pumping outfit God had thought up on that last day – so Victorian, it seemed.”
a hospital nurse says of Mrs Palfrey: “She had such lovely manners. Always said ‘thank you’, even if she didn’t at all like what she got.”
October 15, 2018
"It was hard work being old. It was like being a baby, in reverse. Every day for an infant means some new little thing learned; every day for the old means some little thing lost. Names slip away, dates mean nothing, sequences become muddled, and faces blurred. Both infancy and age are tiring times."
I really enjoyed this book! I realize now that I didn't intend to introduce myself to Elizabeth Taylor's work by starting with her penultimate book, but it was such a joy to read nonetheless, and as I understand, a parting from her usual themes. Mrs. Palfrey is a recent widow who decides to make the Claremont hotel in London her residence. Although the place is a bit shabby, and the food nothing to write home about, the cheap rates attract a small group of elderly people that are still independent, but not ready for a nursing home. The only rule: They weren't allowed to die there.
"The outlook–especially on this darkening afternoon–was daunting; but the backs of hotels, which are kept for indigent ladies, can't be expected to provide a view, she knew. The best is kept for honeymooners, though God alone knew why they required it."
I found this book to be quietly funny even though the subject matter was a bit melancholy. I can't help but think that this was source material for the creators of The Golden Girls. The residents of the Claremont aren't particularly nice, a bit on the eccentric side, and each are dealing with abandonment on some level in various ways. Some things are just heartbreaking to read about, like the loneliness that results from being forgotten by loved ones, being subjected to obligatory visits, or losing one's independence in one cruel blink of an eye. A lovely, lovely book! Can't wait to read more of her work.
June 14, 2020
Often described as hilarious, this book is anything but. Maybe I am overly sensitive, but just as I was saddened by clowns as a child, so now I felt saddened by the elderly residents of the Claremont Hotel. While Mrs. Palfrey displayed a little bit of spunk, the other residents of the hotel had basically given up on life; their conversation was as bland as the food they ate. They had no zeal, no purpose, and very few interests. They were just passing time until death ended their dreary lives.
This was my first book by Elizabeth Taylor. She is (or was) an excellent writer. The dialogue was often amusing and the insights spot on. If her intent was to make the reader aware of the emptiness of life in old age, the abandonment by children and grandchildren, Taylor's goal was definitely achieved. Please - if you hear that I have in future years decided to spend my last days at the Claremont Hotel, find me and shoot me!
Though this was far from a glowing review, I will read Elizabeth Taylor again. She is a fine writer. I will make sure any other book by her does not portray one's final days so heartbreakingly.
This was my first book by Elizabeth Taylor. She is (or was) an excellent writer. The dialogue was often amusing and the insights spot on. If her intent was to make the reader aware of the emptiness of life in old age, the abandonment by children and grandchildren, Taylor's goal was definitely achieved. Please - if you hear that I have in future years decided to spend my last days at the Claremont Hotel, find me and shoot me!
Though this was far from a glowing review, I will read Elizabeth Taylor again. She is a fine writer. I will make sure any other book by her does not portray one's final days so heartbreakingly.
June 30, 2019
This is Elizabeth Taylor’s penultimate novel and with this one I have read all of her eleven novels. The plot is very simple. Mrs Palfrey has lost her husband; she does not want to be a burden to her daughter (nor does her daughter). She decides to take residence in a London hotel, The Claremont, who takes older persons on a residential type basis as well as their normal trade. This type of arrangement was quite usual in the upper middle classes in the early to mid twentieth century. The hotel is a little shabby, the food passable, but not good and the wines pretty grim. However it is all many of them can really afford now they are alone in the world.
There is a rather wry comic element to this, which there needs to be as Taylor addresses some difficult and rather heavy themes. The themes include the role and fate of older people, isolation, the end of empire, death, friendship, falling in love and family. As always Taylor’s descriptions are sharp, as she describes Mrs Palfrey:
“She was a tall woman with big bones and a noble face, dark eyebrows and a neatly folded jowl. She would have made a distinguished-looking man, and sometimes, wearing evening dress, looked like some famous general in drag.”
The end of empire theme isn’t so obvious, but Mrs Palfrey’s husband was a servant of the Empire (Burma). He is now dead and she is alone, but the attitudes and tone remain. Taylor manages to portray this well and also to make Mrs Palfrey somewhat sympathetic as well. When I grew up there were no old Empire hands to be found. However, when training to be a priest, I had a placement in a rather well to do area of Birmingham and came across a few; out of place and time, longing for a lost world, replete with tiger skins and stories of uprisings in India: it was all rather bizarre.
Taylor captures very well the behaviour of older people forced by necessity to live in institutions and hedged around by loneliness, neglect, boredom and apathy:
“It was hard work being old. It was like being a baby in reverse. Every day for an infant means some new little thing learned; every day for the old means some little thing lost...”
Mrs Palfrey is alone, her daughter is in Scotland. She has a grandson, Desmond, in London, but he never visits her. Then one day, she falls in the street and is rescued by a rather down at heel writer called Ludo. He helps and a friendship develops. She even has him visit her at the Claremont and introduces him as her grandson. Of course, things get complicated when her actual grandson turns up. And even Ludo has an ulterior motive:
“He helped her up the steps and into the taxi and when it had driven off, he returned to his room and leaning over the table, wrote in a notebook 'fluffy grey knickers... elastic ...veins on leg colour of grapes...smell of lavender water (ugh!) ...big spots on back of shiny hands and more veins - horizontal wrinkles across hands.”
Ludo’s novel is to be about The Claremont. It is to be entitled “They weren’t allowed to die there”, after something Mrs Palfrey had said.
The residents of The Claremont are a varied bunch and Taylor manages to capture their vicissitudes rather well, as with Mrs Burton, who is very partial to a drink:
“Mrs Burton felt as if she were swimming along the corridor towards her bedroom, glancing off the walls like a balloon... she pulled up at number fifty-three, steadied herself, made a forwards movement with the key. Calmly does it. Miraculously, she hit the keyhole first time...”
Taylor describes the increasing frailty of Mrs Palfrey very well adding an edge of bleakness, as here where she is taking a gift to Ludo:
“She realised that she never walked now without knowing what she was doing and concentrating upon it; once, walking had been like breathing, something unheeded. The disaster of being old was in not feeling safe to venture anywhere, of seeing freedom put out of reach.
Her fall had deepened her uncertainty. And there was no husband to take her arm across a road, or protect her from indignity when she failed. I can have a little rest when I get there, she promised herself. And perhaps he will offer me a cup of tea.”
The Guardian put this novel in its top 100 (number 87). I don’t see that, I enjoyed a couple of Taylor’s other novels more, but it is sharp, perceptive and very prescient. After all medical science has enable us all to live longer: this perhaps shows us where we are all headed.
There is a rather wry comic element to this, which there needs to be as Taylor addresses some difficult and rather heavy themes. The themes include the role and fate of older people, isolation, the end of empire, death, friendship, falling in love and family. As always Taylor’s descriptions are sharp, as she describes Mrs Palfrey:
“She was a tall woman with big bones and a noble face, dark eyebrows and a neatly folded jowl. She would have made a distinguished-looking man, and sometimes, wearing evening dress, looked like some famous general in drag.”
The end of empire theme isn’t so obvious, but Mrs Palfrey’s husband was a servant of the Empire (Burma). He is now dead and she is alone, but the attitudes and tone remain. Taylor manages to portray this well and also to make Mrs Palfrey somewhat sympathetic as well. When I grew up there were no old Empire hands to be found. However, when training to be a priest, I had a placement in a rather well to do area of Birmingham and came across a few; out of place and time, longing for a lost world, replete with tiger skins and stories of uprisings in India: it was all rather bizarre.
Taylor captures very well the behaviour of older people forced by necessity to live in institutions and hedged around by loneliness, neglect, boredom and apathy:
“It was hard work being old. It was like being a baby in reverse. Every day for an infant means some new little thing learned; every day for the old means some little thing lost...”
Mrs Palfrey is alone, her daughter is in Scotland. She has a grandson, Desmond, in London, but he never visits her. Then one day, she falls in the street and is rescued by a rather down at heel writer called Ludo. He helps and a friendship develops. She even has him visit her at the Claremont and introduces him as her grandson. Of course, things get complicated when her actual grandson turns up. And even Ludo has an ulterior motive:
“He helped her up the steps and into the taxi and when it had driven off, he returned to his room and leaning over the table, wrote in a notebook 'fluffy grey knickers... elastic ...veins on leg colour of grapes...smell of lavender water (ugh!) ...big spots on back of shiny hands and more veins - horizontal wrinkles across hands.”
Ludo’s novel is to be about The Claremont. It is to be entitled “They weren’t allowed to die there”, after something Mrs Palfrey had said.
The residents of The Claremont are a varied bunch and Taylor manages to capture their vicissitudes rather well, as with Mrs Burton, who is very partial to a drink:
“Mrs Burton felt as if she were swimming along the corridor towards her bedroom, glancing off the walls like a balloon... she pulled up at number fifty-three, steadied herself, made a forwards movement with the key. Calmly does it. Miraculously, she hit the keyhole first time...”
Taylor describes the increasing frailty of Mrs Palfrey very well adding an edge of bleakness, as here where she is taking a gift to Ludo:
“She realised that she never walked now without knowing what she was doing and concentrating upon it; once, walking had been like breathing, something unheeded. The disaster of being old was in not feeling safe to venture anywhere, of seeing freedom put out of reach.
Her fall had deepened her uncertainty. And there was no husband to take her arm across a road, or protect her from indignity when she failed. I can have a little rest when I get there, she promised herself. And perhaps he will offer me a cup of tea.”
The Guardian put this novel in its top 100 (number 87). I don’t see that, I enjoyed a couple of Taylor’s other novels more, but it is sharp, perceptive and very prescient. After all medical science has enable us all to live longer: this perhaps shows us where we are all headed.
July 31, 2021
Reading Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont (1971) I realised how much I love interesting well written novels that deal with tedium and boredom.
Set in the early 1970s, when hotels would frequently have older permanent residents, widowed Laura Palfrey goes to to live at the Claremont Hotel in Cromwell Road, London, thereby joining others from ranks of the rejected. The stage is now set for a fabulous disection of the hotel's aged residents complete with petty jealousies, casual cruelties, oneupmanship, snobbery, tragedy, black comedy, and random acts of kindness and consideration. Their's is indeed a tedious and repetitive existence, with any small development being a cause for comment and excitement.
Elizabeth Taylor assembled a wonderful array of characters, all of whom are brilliantly drawn: the arthritic Mrs Arbuthnot, angry Mr Osmond, Mrs Post and her knitting, Mrs Burton and her whiskey habit, alongside Lady Swayne and Mrs de Salis. I'm smiling just remembering these characters for, although there is plenty of pain and tragedy, there is also a lot of humour in this novel too.
Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont is only the second book I have read by Elizabeth Taylor. The other was the equally wonderful The Soul of Kindness. Both are five star reads. Based on my experiences so far, I am keen to discover more of the beautifully written riches in her bibliography. Her perceptiveness is right up there with Anita Brookner and Patrick Hamilton.
Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont is a really immersive read and an utterly convincing evocation of old age. Yet surprising too. Highly recommended.
5/5
More about Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont....
On a rainy Sunday in January, the recently widowed Mrs. Palfrey arrives at the Claremont Hotel where she will spend her remaining days. Her fellow residents are magnificently eccentric and endlessly curious, living off crumbs of affection and snippets of gossip. Together, upper lips stiffened, they fight off their twin enemies—boredom and the Grim Reaper. Then one day Mrs. Palfrey strikes up an unexpected friendship with Ludo, a handsome young writer, and learns that even the old can fall in love.
Set in the early 1970s, when hotels would frequently have older permanent residents, widowed Laura Palfrey goes to to live at the Claremont Hotel in Cromwell Road, London, thereby joining others from ranks of the rejected. The stage is now set for a fabulous disection of the hotel's aged residents complete with petty jealousies, casual cruelties, oneupmanship, snobbery, tragedy, black comedy, and random acts of kindness and consideration. Their's is indeed a tedious and repetitive existence, with any small development being a cause for comment and excitement.
Elizabeth Taylor assembled a wonderful array of characters, all of whom are brilliantly drawn: the arthritic Mrs Arbuthnot, angry Mr Osmond, Mrs Post and her knitting, Mrs Burton and her whiskey habit, alongside Lady Swayne and Mrs de Salis. I'm smiling just remembering these characters for, although there is plenty of pain and tragedy, there is also a lot of humour in this novel too.
Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont is only the second book I have read by Elizabeth Taylor. The other was the equally wonderful The Soul of Kindness. Both are five star reads. Based on my experiences so far, I am keen to discover more of the beautifully written riches in her bibliography. Her perceptiveness is right up there with Anita Brookner and Patrick Hamilton.
Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont is a really immersive read and an utterly convincing evocation of old age. Yet surprising too. Highly recommended.
5/5
More about Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont....
On a rainy Sunday in January, the recently widowed Mrs. Palfrey arrives at the Claremont Hotel where she will spend her remaining days. Her fellow residents are magnificently eccentric and endlessly curious, living off crumbs of affection and snippets of gossip. Together, upper lips stiffened, they fight off their twin enemies—boredom and the Grim Reaper. Then one day Mrs. Palfrey strikes up an unexpected friendship with Ludo, a handsome young writer, and learns that even the old can fall in love.
July 15, 2017
Elizabeth Taylor is another writer who was virtually unknown to me, but was brought to my attention by The Mookse and the Gripes group. This is a very entertaining book, but ultimately quite a poignant one.
Mrs Palfrey is a widow who has chosen to spend her retirement in a London hotel which is populated by similar lonely old people. She has talked about her grandson in her early days of her stay there, but it becomes clear he is not interested in visiting her. When a struggling young writer helps her after a fall, she concocts a plan for him to pretend to be the grandson, and much of the comedy in the book results from the misunderstandings that ensue, and the complications that occur when the real grandson turns up.
Taylor's observations are razor sharp and the characters are memorable. Definitely a writer to investigate further.
Mrs Palfrey is a widow who has chosen to spend her retirement in a London hotel which is populated by similar lonely old people. She has talked about her grandson in her early days of her stay there, but it becomes clear he is not interested in visiting her. When a struggling young writer helps her after a fall, she concocts a plan for him to pretend to be the grandson, and much of the comedy in the book results from the misunderstandings that ensue, and the complications that occur when the real grandson turns up.
Taylor's observations are razor sharp and the characters are memorable. Definitely a writer to investigate further.
August 12, 2023
Every year I read a few writers on my been-meaning-to-read list. Elizabeth Taylor, (not to be confused with the actress), was on that list, and I chose this title because it’s a fan favorite. So, I stumbled into what felt very British and very midcentury, when I may have been more in the mood for a contemporary read. The beginning felt bleak, with a woman at the end of her life, alone. But the sentences snapped with wit and efficiency, and although I can’t remember anything of the positive reviews I read on gr (a gift of age), I do remember how touched people were by the story: I kept going.
I’m glad I stuck with it. I’ve thought about this book a lot since I’ve read it. It shows how much of life is lived within social circles that bring disparate people together. The Claremont could easily have been goodreads, with its different people and their quirks, floating in and out of circles, entering or leaving goodreads altogether. Inevitably, we get to know the people in the places we find ourselves––it’s every neighborhood, school, and job we’ve ever had––and we get a sense of other relationships between the people there. This is part of what creates a life. I’m not saying that no choices are involved––choosing where to live, work, and interact brings us to our groups. It’s how we meet the people who become meaningful to us. And in this book, Taylor juxtaposes that with family relationships, more bound by duty, yet bound through all the chapters, tethered and rooted by time as we float up through layers of new circles and experiences.
The two main characters, Mrs. Palfrey and Ludo, form a playful and creative relationship out of a shared loneliness. Through the act of play, their relationship begins to feels more true than the truth, even with its transactional nature. And with themes of aging, the hard edges of the story started to soften the way of a ripening fruit––at first, appealingly, then, well…. But that doesn’t make it worthless. People no longer a part of things still make an impact, still change us as we change them. Then, it ends. For all of us, it ends.
I’m glad I stuck with it. I’ve thought about this book a lot since I’ve read it. It shows how much of life is lived within social circles that bring disparate people together. The Claremont could easily have been goodreads, with its different people and their quirks, floating in and out of circles, entering or leaving goodreads altogether. Inevitably, we get to know the people in the places we find ourselves––it’s every neighborhood, school, and job we’ve ever had––and we get a sense of other relationships between the people there. This is part of what creates a life. I’m not saying that no choices are involved––choosing where to live, work, and interact brings us to our groups. It’s how we meet the people who become meaningful to us. And in this book, Taylor juxtaposes that with family relationships, more bound by duty, yet bound through all the chapters, tethered and rooted by time as we float up through layers of new circles and experiences.
The two main characters, Mrs. Palfrey and Ludo, form a playful and creative relationship out of a shared loneliness. Through the act of play, their relationship begins to feels more true than the truth, even with its transactional nature. And with themes of aging, the hard edges of the story started to soften the way of a ripening fruit––at first, appealingly, then, well…. But that doesn’t make it worthless. People no longer a part of things still make an impact, still change us as we change them. Then, it ends. For all of us, it ends.
December 29, 2021
What a book to close out 2021! A perfect gem! No words can do it justice, so I encourage everyone to just read it!
This book is about Mrs Palfrey, who moved to the Claremont Hotel as a permanent resident after she is widowed. There are other older residents who live there, whom she meets and develops a sort of friendship with. She is feeling old, isolated and lonely.
“She would stay at the Claremont for as long as she could, and from there, at last, be taken to hospital and hope to die as soon as possible, with no trouble but to those who were paid to deal with her. “
After a fall, she meets a young writer, Ludo, when he comes to her rescue. A friendship develops between them.
“The disaster of being old was in not feeling safe to venture anywhere, of seeing freedom put out of reach.”
As I read, I either wanted to laugh or cry. I hated that Mrs Palfrey felt lonely and all alone. She had nothing to look forward to. She realizes how happy she had been with her husband, but had taken it for granted.
I remember visiting my best friend’s mother in law when she was away. My daughter and I went to lunch at her lodge and had the prix fixed menu (just like at the Claremont ). She was so proud and happy to introduce us to other residents. Touched my heart to see her so enthused by us being there. Older people just want some company and not to feel abandoned. The gift of time!
“It was hard work being old. It was like being a baby , in reverse. Every day for an infant means some new little thing learned; every day for the old means some little thing lost. “
This book is an homage to getting older, but only if the reader truly opens their eyes and receives the message that the author is trying to deliver.
I absolutely adored this book. A favourite for sure. A reread for sure.
Published: 1971.
This book is about Mrs Palfrey, who moved to the Claremont Hotel as a permanent resident after she is widowed. There are other older residents who live there, whom she meets and develops a sort of friendship with. She is feeling old, isolated and lonely.
“She would stay at the Claremont for as long as she could, and from there, at last, be taken to hospital and hope to die as soon as possible, with no trouble but to those who were paid to deal with her. “
After a fall, she meets a young writer, Ludo, when he comes to her rescue. A friendship develops between them.
“The disaster of being old was in not feeling safe to venture anywhere, of seeing freedom put out of reach.”
As I read, I either wanted to laugh or cry. I hated that Mrs Palfrey felt lonely and all alone. She had nothing to look forward to. She realizes how happy she had been with her husband, but had taken it for granted.
I remember visiting my best friend’s mother in law when she was away. My daughter and I went to lunch at her lodge and had the prix fixed menu (just like at the Claremont ). She was so proud and happy to introduce us to other residents. Touched my heart to see her so enthused by us being there. Older people just want some company and not to feel abandoned. The gift of time!
“It was hard work being old. It was like being a baby , in reverse. Every day for an infant means some new little thing learned; every day for the old means some little thing lost. “
This book is an homage to getting older, but only if the reader truly opens their eyes and receives the message that the author is trying to deliver.
I absolutely adored this book. A favourite for sure. A reread for sure.
Published: 1971.
February 16, 2023
As I was reading this book, I realized I knew this story… And I couldn’t remember from where.
I finally figured it out. Paul and I watch the movie years ago with Judy Dench. The movie was a wonderful gem, and so is this book….gorgeously spare, humorous, (a funny party scene), sad, heartfelt, and ‘real’…..
The sad challenges - worries - of growing old: such as forgetfulness, body pain, becoming sexual inactive, dry skin, hair loss, loneliness, sensory impairment, communication difficulties, social struggles, depression, and serious illnesses…. are the burdens that often come with old age.
Being elderly ……comes with potential problems…. but are not shared by ‘all’ aging folks —
Having a purpose provides motivation to adopt healthy behaviors….it’s something I’m already (at age 70) am beginning to experience.
An absolutely wonderful book in every way > the story - the characters - the brilliant dialogue and prose….
[with subtle unspeakable graciousness]
Many thanks to Laysee for her inspiring - encouraging- review! Perfect time for me to visit this story.
HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!
Oh… and the pretend grandson, Ludo, was a mensch!! I just loved him!!!
A couple of excerpts:
“If I had known at the time, how happy I was, she decided now, it would only have spoiled it. I took it for granted. That was much better. I don’t regret that”.
“Even as a bride, in strange, alarming conditions in Burma, she had been magnificent, calm — when (for instance) she was rowed across floods to her new home; unruffled, finding it more than damp, with a snake wound round the banisters to greet her. She had straightened her back and giving herself a good talking-to, as she had this afternoon in the train”.
Meaningful and Magnificent!
I finally figured it out. Paul and I watch the movie years ago with Judy Dench. The movie was a wonderful gem, and so is this book….gorgeously spare, humorous, (a funny party scene), sad, heartfelt, and ‘real’…..
The sad challenges - worries - of growing old: such as forgetfulness, body pain, becoming sexual inactive, dry skin, hair loss, loneliness, sensory impairment, communication difficulties, social struggles, depression, and serious illnesses…. are the burdens that often come with old age.
Being elderly ……comes with potential problems…. but are not shared by ‘all’ aging folks —
Having a purpose provides motivation to adopt healthy behaviors….it’s something I’m already (at age 70) am beginning to experience.
An absolutely wonderful book in every way > the story - the characters - the brilliant dialogue and prose….
[with subtle unspeakable graciousness]
Many thanks to Laysee for her inspiring - encouraging- review! Perfect time for me to visit this story.
HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!
Oh… and the pretend grandson, Ludo, was a mensch!! I just loved him!!!
A couple of excerpts:
“If I had known at the time, how happy I was, she decided now, it would only have spoiled it. I took it for granted. That was much better. I don’t regret that”.
“Even as a bride, in strange, alarming conditions in Burma, she had been magnificent, calm — when (for instance) she was rowed across floods to her new home; unruffled, finding it more than damp, with a snake wound round the banisters to greet her. She had straightened her back and giving herself a good talking-to, as she had this afternoon in the train”.
Meaningful and Magnificent!
February 17, 2023
My introduction to the prose of Elizabeth Taylor began with a story that left me with so many emotions and feelings in the end. She introduces the reader to Mrs. Palfrey, a recent widower who has just moved into a room in the Claremont Hotel, a place for elderly residents to spend the last stage of life. Like most people who move to a new place, Mrs. Palfrey experiences the challenges that come with trying to find her place in this new environment. But at the same time, she is having to deal with the struggles that come with aging and with now having to live alone. She takes her new circumstances with the utmost grace and refinement. Her fellow tenants in the hotel each are unique characters in their own ways and have their own obstacles they are dealing with. The way in which Ms. Taylor depicts the loneliness and sadness of growing old is very real and makes you feel uncomfortable at times. The residents still value their pride and their privacy but at the same time the fear and isolation is ever present.
When a young and penniless writer saves her when she takes a fall, the unlikely duo come to realize how much they need each other and don’t really even know it. The friendship is one that is unexpected but richly drawn. Mrs. Palfrey’s life has narrowed drastically since her move to the Claremont and Ludo has his entire life before him. He sees Mrs. Palfrey as an inspiration for the novel that he is writing. Mrs. Palfrey’s only grandson is not interested in visiting her and so the chance meeting with Ludo has brought her a savior of her own embarassment among the the other tenants(whose highest value is in family visitors) and to provide her a means of thwarting her loneliness. What their interactions eventually demonstrate is just how one can find value in another and that love can be found in the most unlikely of places and with the most unlikely of people.
I am convinced that Elizabeth Taylor is an author that I need to explore. I found her prose to be simple but beautiful. You get all of the emotions here: fear, anxiety, love, humor, sadness, envy and insecurity. She does it with such a gentleness and respectability and leaves you with a warmth underneath it all.
I must not wish my life away, she told herself; but she knew that, as she got older, she looked at her watch more often, and that it was always earlier than she had thought it would be. When she was young, it had always been later.
It was hard work being old. It was like being a baby, in reverse. Every day for an infant means some new little thing learned; every day for the old means some little thing lost. Names slip away, dates mean nothing, sequences become muddled, and faces blurred. Both infancy and age are tiring times.
She realized that she never walked now without knowing what she was doing and concentrating upon it; once, walking had been like breathing, something unheeded. The disaster of being old was in not feeling safe to venture anywhere, of seeing freedom put out of reach.
When a young and penniless writer saves her when she takes a fall, the unlikely duo come to realize how much they need each other and don’t really even know it. The friendship is one that is unexpected but richly drawn. Mrs. Palfrey’s life has narrowed drastically since her move to the Claremont and Ludo has his entire life before him. He sees Mrs. Palfrey as an inspiration for the novel that he is writing. Mrs. Palfrey’s only grandson is not interested in visiting her and so the chance meeting with Ludo has brought her a savior of her own embarassment among the the other tenants(whose highest value is in family visitors) and to provide her a means of thwarting her loneliness. What their interactions eventually demonstrate is just how one can find value in another and that love can be found in the most unlikely of places and with the most unlikely of people.
I am convinced that Elizabeth Taylor is an author that I need to explore. I found her prose to be simple but beautiful. You get all of the emotions here: fear, anxiety, love, humor, sadness, envy and insecurity. She does it with such a gentleness and respectability and leaves you with a warmth underneath it all.
I must not wish my life away, she told herself; but she knew that, as she got older, she looked at her watch more often, and that it was always earlier than she had thought it would be. When she was young, it had always been later.
It was hard work being old. It was like being a baby, in reverse. Every day for an infant means some new little thing learned; every day for the old means some little thing lost. Names slip away, dates mean nothing, sequences become muddled, and faces blurred. Both infancy and age are tiring times.
She realized that she never walked now without knowing what she was doing and concentrating upon it; once, walking had been like breathing, something unheeded. The disaster of being old was in not feeling safe to venture anywhere, of seeing freedom put out of reach.
March 11, 2023
This book is full of sharp, poignant but unsentimental observations about a group of elderly people who have retired to a London residential hotel. One of them is the nosy Mrs Arbuthnot who “… had ears sharpened by malice”. They provide company for each other, but loneliness is a fact of life. Getting old is not for the weak. This is the last place where they are still independent before ailments or infirmities take that away; before the nursing home or having to move in with relatives.
Mrs. Palfrey is recently widowed. She has one daughter, but her grandson Desmond is her only relative living in London. Unfortunately, he never visits so when she strikes up an acquaintance with Ludo she pretends that Ludo is Desmond to save herself embarrassment. Ludo is a struggling writer and he sees Mrs. Palfrey as a source of material for his book. The residents gossip, commiserate and go to the occasional party. The book rang so true. It was a little sad, but not depressing.
The edition that I read is a reprint by NYRB Classics with a new introduction that tells you what to think about the book. I suggest either skipping it entirely or reading it after you finish the book.
I received a free copy of this book from the publisher.
Mrs. Palfrey is recently widowed. She has one daughter, but her grandson Desmond is her only relative living in London. Unfortunately, he never visits so when she strikes up an acquaintance with Ludo she pretends that Ludo is Desmond to save herself embarrassment. Ludo is a struggling writer and he sees Mrs. Palfrey as a source of material for his book. The residents gossip, commiserate and go to the occasional party. The book rang so true. It was a little sad, but not depressing.
The edition that I read is a reprint by NYRB Classics with a new introduction that tells you what to think about the book. I suggest either skipping it entirely or reading it after you finish the book.
I received a free copy of this book from the publisher.
April 26, 2023
I read this book several years ago, probably in my 50's. It was my first by Elizabeth Taylor and I knew then how excellent it was, but my goodness, how much more poignant at this stage of my life. I was spurred to reread it after seeing so many friends reviews who had just discovered it for themselves.
Mrs. Palfrey has been widowed, has some means ( never touch your capital), but not a lot, and considers herself lucky to have found a place like the Claremont, a hotel for the elderly. Her daughter lives in Scotland, her grandson works at the British Museum but can't be bothered to visit, so she has no one. Until one day, Ludo rescues her after a fall. A caring young man who is trying to write a novel about the elderly, and becomes a replacement grandson because he sees in her a chance for some research in the land of the aged. She passes him off as her real grandson to her fellow roomers, largely to save face by having a visitor. There is a lot of humor here, not only in the situation and comedy of errors with Ludo, but the conversation and thoughts of others in the same situation; trying to be happy while waiting to die, and worrying about the next stage in their inevitable decline. One thing they all realized was it doesn't get better, best to grab whatever small pleasures come your way.
"She realized that she never walked now without knowing what she was doing and concentrating upon it; once, walking had been like breathing, something unheeded."
"It was hard work, being old. It was like being a baby in reverse. Both infancy and aging are trying times."
I'm sure both those quotes escaped me on my first read. This time around they jumped out at me.
I think this is a book that improves with age. Not the book's age, but my own. Who knows where I'll be in 10 more years, if I reread it then. But I'm not going to a place like the Claremont unless they let me bring all my books.
Mrs. Palfrey has been widowed, has some means ( never touch your capital), but not a lot, and considers herself lucky to have found a place like the Claremont, a hotel for the elderly. Her daughter lives in Scotland, her grandson works at the British Museum but can't be bothered to visit, so she has no one. Until one day, Ludo rescues her after a fall. A caring young man who is trying to write a novel about the elderly, and becomes a replacement grandson because he sees in her a chance for some research in the land of the aged. She passes him off as her real grandson to her fellow roomers, largely to save face by having a visitor. There is a lot of humor here, not only in the situation and comedy of errors with Ludo, but the conversation and thoughts of others in the same situation; trying to be happy while waiting to die, and worrying about the next stage in their inevitable decline. One thing they all realized was it doesn't get better, best to grab whatever small pleasures come your way.
"She realized that she never walked now without knowing what she was doing and concentrating upon it; once, walking had been like breathing, something unheeded."
"It was hard work, being old. It was like being a baby in reverse. Both infancy and aging are trying times."
I'm sure both those quotes escaped me on my first read. This time around they jumped out at me.
I think this is a book that improves with age. Not the book's age, but my own. Who knows where I'll be in 10 more years, if I reread it then. But I'm not going to a place like the Claremont unless they let me bring all my books.
May 25, 2024
One of the expressions my mum used all the time was “better late than never”. That thought was echoing around my head when I eventually picked up Mrs Palfrey at the Claremont. So many of my trusted GR friends have given it wonderful reviews and Robert McCrum included it in his top 100 novels of all time (https://www.theguardian.com/books/201...).
Written in 1971 the novel follows Laura Palfrey as she moves to the Claremont hotel in London. The hotel houses several elderly people. They are all wonderfully flawed and utterly believable characters. Mr Osmond is both a mason and a misogynist, Mrs Burton is a soak, Mrs Arbuthnot a gossip and a snoop. Mrs Palfrey spend much of her life in Burma as the wife of a colonial administrator. Dignified and stoic, she is deeply ashamed of having no visitors. Her only daughter lives in Scotland and her grandson shows no willingness to see her. Enter Ludo (a very playful name) a young aspiring author who helps Mrs Palfrey after she takes a tumble on the street near the hotel. They form a beautiful friendship and Ludo more than makes up for her absent family.
Elizabeth Taylor wrote with both compassion and mordant humour but avoided being mawkish or cruel. I cannot think of any other writer that chronicles post war England better. I originally gave this a 4-star rating because the ending felt a bit like falling off a cliff face, but this is a 5-star book.
So yeah, I was late to the party, late to appreciate the subtle genius of Elizabeth Taylor. But my mum was right, better late than never.
Written in 1971 the novel follows Laura Palfrey as she moves to the Claremont hotel in London. The hotel houses several elderly people. They are all wonderfully flawed and utterly believable characters. Mr Osmond is both a mason and a misogynist, Mrs Burton is a soak, Mrs Arbuthnot a gossip and a snoop. Mrs Palfrey spend much of her life in Burma as the wife of a colonial administrator. Dignified and stoic, she is deeply ashamed of having no visitors. Her only daughter lives in Scotland and her grandson shows no willingness to see her. Enter Ludo (a very playful name) a young aspiring author who helps Mrs Palfrey after she takes a tumble on the street near the hotel. They form a beautiful friendship and Ludo more than makes up for her absent family.
Elizabeth Taylor wrote with both compassion and mordant humour but avoided being mawkish or cruel. I cannot think of any other writer that chronicles post war England better. I originally gave this a 4-star rating because the ending felt a bit like falling off a cliff face, but this is a 5-star book.
So yeah, I was late to the party, late to appreciate the subtle genius of Elizabeth Taylor. But my mum was right, better late than never.
November 15, 2023
بشدت قشنگ بود.
February 7, 2023
"She had taken age as it came, and it had come apace.”
This is a beautiful book. My heart and my intuition, if not quite yet my lived experience, tell me Elizabeth Taylor nailed this.
There is an edge you cross (I’m not there yet by I have seen it in others close to me) when the feelings of slowing down you begin to get at 50 or so shift. You see that slowing down leads to an eventual stop, and you can no longer think the same about the future. You see it coming and you have to adjust. This is a story of a group of older adults living out this adjustment together in London’s Claremont Hotel.
There are so many things we take for granted, and one is that older people want nothing more than to be with their families, to be taken care of and included (even when they aren’t necessarily wanted). I loved the way this story explores that.
“As one gets older life becomes all take and no give. One relies on other people for treats and things. It’s like being an infant again.”
Family members become a sort of status symbol between the Claremont residents--they are judged by their visitors. But sometimes more satisfying connections are found in other places, and Mrs. Palfrey finds such a bond with a stranger named Ludo.
I feel like this book helped me see a way of dealing with growing older, even dealing better than I otherwise would have with the people I may be thrown together with. I might find the Mr. Osmonds and the Mrs. Arbuthnots of the world a little easier to understand.
“…she looked as if she might have smiled if she had not been in so much pain.”
But dear God, if I can make one request, when my time comes, please send me a Ludo.
This is a beautiful book. My heart and my intuition, if not quite yet my lived experience, tell me Elizabeth Taylor nailed this.
There is an edge you cross (I’m not there yet by I have seen it in others close to me) when the feelings of slowing down you begin to get at 50 or so shift. You see that slowing down leads to an eventual stop, and you can no longer think the same about the future. You see it coming and you have to adjust. This is a story of a group of older adults living out this adjustment together in London’s Claremont Hotel.
There are so many things we take for granted, and one is that older people want nothing more than to be with their families, to be taken care of and included (even when they aren’t necessarily wanted). I loved the way this story explores that.
“As one gets older life becomes all take and no give. One relies on other people for treats and things. It’s like being an infant again.”
Family members become a sort of status symbol between the Claremont residents--they are judged by their visitors. But sometimes more satisfying connections are found in other places, and Mrs. Palfrey finds such a bond with a stranger named Ludo.
I feel like this book helped me see a way of dealing with growing older, even dealing better than I otherwise would have with the people I may be thrown together with. I might find the Mr. Osmonds and the Mrs. Arbuthnots of the world a little easier to understand.
“…she looked as if she might have smiled if she had not been in so much pain.”
But dear God, if I can make one request, when my time comes, please send me a Ludo.
October 7, 2023
This book reminded me so much of my mom. She lived in an assisted living facility for many years. One year after spending Thanksgiving day with her at my sister's house, my sister and I took her back to her facility. As we were getting out of the car my mom asked us where her luggage was. She said she needed her luggage if she was going to stay at the hotel. I remember my sister and I looking at each other for a moment, not quite sure what to say. We had to remind her that she lived here and that this was not a hotel. She was very confused. Once we got her to her room and she saw all of her belongings she calmed down decided it was ok to stay there.
"It was only lately that she had become so absent minded, and she struggled to cover up her forgetfulness. It was hard work being old. It was like being a baby, in reverse. Every day for an infant means some new little things learned; every day for the old means some little thing lost. Names slip away, dates mean nothing, sequences become muddled, and faces blurred. Both infancy and age are tiring times."
This was an emotional read for me. I can't stop thinking about it. I am so glad that I had my GR friend Lisa to read it with, we had some great discussions.
RIP Mom
"It was only lately that she had become so absent minded, and she struggled to cover up her forgetfulness. It was hard work being old. It was like being a baby, in reverse. Every day for an infant means some new little things learned; every day for the old means some little thing lost. Names slip away, dates mean nothing, sequences become muddled, and faces blurred. Both infancy and age are tiring times."
This was an emotional read for me. I can't stop thinking about it. I am so glad that I had my GR friend Lisa to read it with, we had some great discussions.
RIP Mom
August 23, 2017
Taylor has penned an acerbic end-of-life tale—uncomfortable and real—in which one’s family doesn’t care much what happens once one is parked at a 'last' (maybe) destination. Friends who do care, care mostly for secret or selfish reasons, and include a young man who literally picks up a character off the street. His novel-writing and how he accumulates his source material had me wondering if he was an alter-ego for the author.
No one escapes Taylor’s dark humor, though each character’s humanity is left intact. And what is left to the protagonist near the story’s end clutches at one’s heart.
No one escapes Taylor’s dark humor, though each character’s humanity is left intact. And what is left to the protagonist near the story’s end clutches at one’s heart.
Read
June 24, 2021Elizabeth Taylor was mentioned several times in A Very Private Eye: The Diaries, Letters And Notebooks Of Barbara Pym, so I thought I should finally read this book. It's a little gem, and to think it had been lying undiscovered on my shelves for years.
February 12, 2023
Totally love this - another 5. Little bit ashamed to admit - it's my first Elizabeth Taylor - I did try 'Angel' a few years ago - hated that and it put me off. This, however, is truly brilliant. The style is light, easy, confidant but precisely controlled - this means everything holds together. There is not an additional word or detail beyond what the plot requires - not many writers achieve this - the exact balance of what must be included and what excluded.
The central character LAURA Palfrey - has committed herself to life in an hotel - her age dictates that she can no longer manage alone. There is little contact with the other elderly residents until by chance she literally falls into the life of Ludo - a young artisan/writer who is desperately poor but with sophisticated ideas and morals. Mrs Palfrey falls in love once more.
I liked the delicacy of what Taylor does, she exposes the base selfishness of all humans which is kept conveniently hidden under the gloss and manners of society; but I agree with her - there are so few of us who can or will do anything without the intention of self-gain. I felt this was her underlying theme. All the characters are motivated by their needs - only Mrs Palfrey severely refers to her old-fashioned code of self-reliance and intent to hurt no other.
I will look out for Taylor - I'm prepared to read anything by her now - even the despicable 'Angel'.
The central character LAURA Palfrey - has committed herself to life in an hotel - her age dictates that she can no longer manage alone. There is little contact with the other elderly residents until by chance she literally falls into the life of Ludo - a young artisan/writer who is desperately poor but with sophisticated ideas and morals. Mrs Palfrey falls in love once more.
I liked the delicacy of what Taylor does, she exposes the base selfishness of all humans which is kept conveniently hidden under the gloss and manners of society; but I agree with her - there are so few of us who can or will do anything without the intention of self-gain. I felt this was her underlying theme. All the characters are motivated by their needs - only Mrs Palfrey severely refers to her old-fashioned code of self-reliance and intent to hurt no other.
I will look out for Taylor - I'm prepared to read anything by her now - even the despicable 'Angel'.
January 17, 2022
Beware of thieves.
Beware of writers.
The plot of this novel is about an elderly widow who retires to a hotel in London, where the other hosts are in a similar situation to hers. One would expect therefore that this book is about loneliness and fear of death.
Or you could think that this novel is about how writers could steal your soul. If you think that a person who is eating close to you in a bus and seems distracted in watching how the bus is getting close to her stop, if this person happens to be a writer, you delude yourself. She is probably observing how your hat is too small, or the colour of your handbag is not exactly the same hue as that of your shoes, or you look bored. If you think that a person who is having his lunch in a café terrace on the table next to yours and seems absorbed in studying the menu, if this person happens to be a writer, you delude yourself. He is noting down in his head that you are reading a trashy book, that your skirt is too tight, and that you are obviously worried because the person you expect to join you does not arrive. At least these people, these writers, are fortuitous encounters. If the writer happens to be a friend of yours, then you ought to be a great deal more careful with what your friend is taking from you.
Elizabeth Taylor died relatively young, at 63, due to cancer. She published this novel in 1971, four years before her death, although I do not know if she was already ill when she wrote this. But she had met, in the Magazine department in Harrods in 1969, a young man who had published a year before a novel about a home for elderly women. This man was Paul Bailey, and the novel was At the Jerusalem. . In her novel Taylor has appropriated Bailey the writer and uses him as her raw material to create a character who seizes on the characteristics of the protagonist, the Mrs Palfrey of the title, to write his own novel while sitting in the former Banking Hall in Harrods.
In spite of all the snatching and poaching going around in the writing and in the written, this is an engaging account which shows that writers, in stealing, will prove to have also a heart.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,573 reviews