…read The Forsyte Saga?

Five weeks ago, I took the plunge and dived into a series of six novels, barely coming up for air for long stretches as I devoured the words. Written by the Nobel literature prize winner John Galsworthy, The Forsyte Saga (a trilogy of three novels and an interlude), and its sequel A Modern Comedy (yet another trilogy) chronicle the family squabbles and intrigues of three generations of a nouveau riche English family, the Forsytes, from 1906 through to 1928.

The prose is not particularly elegant, and is rather dauntingly ponderous at the beginning. Once past the first few chapters however, the Edwardian age came alive. I saw London anew with descriptions of carriage rides and walks through lustrous Hyde Park, Bayswater, Knightsbridge and Sloane Square. I travelled through time on the Underground tube (who knew for instance, that they had first and second class carriages for the tube then?) and took commuter train rides out to the newly developing suburbs like Robin Hill and Staines. Two of the Forsytes were active patrons of the arts and the books are filled with beautiful descriptions of the Gaughains, the Monets and other great paintings of the age.

As with any family saga, The Forsyte Saga and A Modern Comedy rely heavily on arresting plotlines and intriguing characters to keep the reader properly hooked. The story of the struggle between an oppressive, possessive, dutiful solicitor, Soames Forsyte, and his free-spirited wife Irene, dominates the first trilogy. Their feud and their subsequent divorce shape the destinies of the next generation of Forsytes, in particular Soames’ only daughter from his second marriage, Fleur, and Irene’s son from her second marriage to Soames’ cousin, Jon.

The portrayal of women shifts subtly as the “modern women” starts to emerge in the twentieth century. Irene, while repeatedly described as being beautiful and alluring, is often a passive character – her thoughts and feelings are never documented and one sees her through the eyes of the men in her life. Independently minded, she is nonetheless reliant on men for money and protection. Fleur, on the other hand, married the heir to a baronet but is seen as a real person in her own right. One hears her spoilt and rather selfish voice, her ambitions, her sorrows and her rather pathetic attempts to control the men around her.

Galsworthy was less successful in generating interest in the plight of the lower classes. Fleur’s husband, Michael Mont (incidentally my favourite character in the book), is a Tory MP who embarked on a series of experiments to better the lot of the English working class, including setting up a chicken farming community for the urban unemployed and urging children to emigrate to the New World. These attempts were amusing but sadly, they failed to fully describe the despair of the poor and unemployed in a world without social nets or adequate opportunities.

Six books may sound like a drag but I was rewarded with the hours of amusement that only a well-crafted, old-fashioned novel focusing on characters and plot can bring. I am looking forward to reading the next sequel End of the Chapter (yes, yet another 3 novels!).