Death in Summer

Death in Summer is one of the more appropriate titles for a novel I've seen in a while. William Trevor is a gifted writer, one of characteristic styles that are fascinating, illuminating..yet with a dark view of the world that begs for light. The stories of three deaths, bizarrely interrelated in a strange English place, is only a superficial tease of what lies within and beneath this fine novel. The real passings are about the deaths of life views that occur when indescribable losses alter our lives. Trevor has an uncanny ability to vary his vocabulary/tone/philosophical views/visceral descriptions adjusted according to which of his myriad characters is relating a view of the story. Whether the description of a garden is eloquent when from the mind and mouth of the gentrified owners of the mansion where the story takes place, or the interior of a cafe is puncutated with the glassy views of a declining, bosomy "loose woman", or the stagnation of a squalid orphanage is regarded with acceptance by the ne're-do-well young folks of the street - with each of these disparate voices Trevor allows authenticity beyond the abilities of most contemporary authors. At times his stream of conscious style of writing causes the need to retrace pages to make sure where we are, but that is a glory in and of itself. THAT is how submerged the reader becomes when reading this fine book. It has its own life!

Early in William Trevor's novel, Death in Summer, the male caretaker of the house in which most of the story's action takes place muses about the correlation between horse-racing and a life spent caring for other people's property; a life of servitude but also one of observation. His conclusion is that "Other people's lives, how they are lived and what they are, offer what the vagaries of the turf do: mystery and the pleasure of speculation." Therein lies the pleasure of reading Death in Summer, which offers more observation than commentary,and which tends to show characters' actions first and then only gradually reveal their motives. There is a quiet mystery interwoven into the story, well maintained by Trevor's prose, which is simultaneously simple and beautiful.Death in Summer is a meloncholy story, which makes sense as the action begins with a death. Letitia, "a person of almost wayward generosity," is killed when a car strikes her bicycle. She leaves behind a husband, Thaddeus and their infant child Georgina. Letitia's death leaves a literal void--now Georgina will grow up without a mother,but she also leaves a symbolic void. Letitia's good nature and uncomplicated love towards her fellow humans is notably absent in the characters that outlive her (with the exception of Albert,whose goodness winds up being just as futile as Letitia's). Pettie, the orphaned girl who interviews for the position of nanny for Georgina, is constantly looking for father figures--older men to fill the void from her past. She falls in love with Thaddeus, but it only leads to a complicated kidnapping plot. Unlike Letitia and Albert, Pettie cannot simply love and wish the best for those she loves. Trevor's gradual unfolding of her character and the events that shaped her--revealing in tiny pieces her relationship to one of the many "uncles" who came to visit the female orphans--is one of the most masterful elements of Death in Summer. He allows the characters actions to speak without too much explanation and he does not over-analyze. That we, as readers, have to be patient with the story makes it all the more engrossing to read. Death in Summer is a wonderful and haunting book.

Trevor reminds me of Flannery O'Connor. The holy spirit is somehow numinously present in the random, cruel, and grotesque universe that he describes with such precision and wit. In this story, as in so many others, he succeeds in developing our sympathy for the unloved, the shattered, and the deranged. The reader ends up tolerating, appreciating, even loving the most unlikely characters. In this particular book references to Quincunx allude to Browne's Urn Burial; Trevor's tone is steeped in the melancholy wonder that one hears in Browne and W. G. Sebald, who seems to have tramped some of the same vintage in The Rings of Saturn. The mysteries of life, death, entrapment, growth, and transcendence abide after the surprises and plot twists have been forgotten. Felicia's Journey left me with lingering creepiness, but Death in Summer provides an astringent sense of hope despite the despair and decay all around.

The publication of Death In Summer, as with other works by William Trevor, is cause to rejoice. Fireworks, flag raisings, and cannon salvos might also be appropriate, as Mr. Trevor is inarguably a master of his craft. He defines and illumines characters with strokes of spare, impeccable prose, while his candid renderings of human frailty are often leavened with compassion. Most recently Mr. Trevor's considerable authorial skills were seen in the incredibly touching "Felicia's Journey" (1995), and "After Rain" (1996), a collection of poignant sketches. Death In Summer is one more stellar achievement. A somewhat noir narrative offered with quiet dignity and studied restraint, his latest story is set in England, the flatlands of Essex. It is summertime and, yes, there is death, but there is also hope found in the most improbable of places. Thaddeus Davenant is the pound poor owner of Quincunx House, a servantless home distinguished by "tattered grandeur." It was here that Thaddeus grew up, the lonely, forgotten child of a soap merchant father and beautiful Polish mother. His marriage to Letitia Iveson, a gentle, plain, well-to-do woman, "a person of almost wayward generosity," whom he despairs of ever loving, has enabled Thaddeus to refurbish Quincunx House and retain a live-in couple, the eavesdropping Maidment and plump, devout Zenobia. After six years of marriage, in which there are few disagreements due to "her natural inclination to amity, his to mild prevarication," a daughter is born. Shortly after the baby's birth, Letitia is killed in a tragic accident, leaving Thaddeus to raise their child alone. With the assistance of Mrs. Iveson, Letitia's mother, a series of nanny applicants are interviewed, including Pettie, an emotionally deprived shop-lifting prone young woman who grew up in the Morning Star, a foster home where she was sexually abused. When none of the applicants prove suitable, Mrs. Iveson moves in to take charge of her granddaughter. Having seen Thaddeus and what is to her the luxury in which he lives, Pettie becomes obsessed, almost hallucinatory. Quincunx House and Thaddeus are all Pettie can talk about to her one friend, Albert, also a former resident of the foster home. Although deemed "a few marbles short," Albert worries about Pettie; he frets because he knows the tormented young woman well. Pettie fantasizes, seeing herself living in Quincunx House, consoling a bereft Thaddeus, caring for the baby. Soon, she is taking the train back to Essex, exploring the fields around her imagined home, and discovering a seldom used door into the back garden through which she can watch Thaddeus and Mrs. Iveson tending the baby. Thus, a seemingly unrelated chain of events lead to the tale's unexpected denouement, a reminder of the fragility of life and the goodness of love. Death In Summer limns fate's vagaries, the randomness of tragedy. The joy is that this story is tol

William Trevor is my favorite writer. He conveys in simple, clean, but beautiful prose, the complexities of human existence. Having read all of Mr. Trevor's works, this novel is one of my favorites. It is the tragic story of loss and longing, filled with sympathetic characters -- victims and perpetrators. All of the characters are haunted by their particular past, and Mr. Trevor shows how that past impacts both the present and the future. A great novel, and the characters will stay with you long after you have finished the book. I strongly recommend this book (and Willliam Trevor) to anyone who enjoys writers such as Alice Munro or John Cheever.