Fabulous fiction, Eleanor. I believe this also reflects current conditions in which men refuse to budge in their thinking and conduct, yet feel oppressed by civilized humans. His interaction with the police officer had the feel of an incel morale boosting meet up.
Man, I keep thinking about how common it is for men to hide their true selves in society—and easy to fall in line. But the torment and bound angst on the inside! Ray plays the part and is accepted by his tribe while negating himself with every move. Brilliant decision to include his dissonance in this story.
I cackled so many times throughout this chapter...
"He’d refused to let her hold the map. He tore the page turning it over and almost set the car alight trying to light one cigarette off another. Basingstoke was badly scalded and he was going to have a job finding Reading." Then the patrol of squaddies shouting at Ray, “Man overboard!” and another, “Go on, lad, swim for your life!” And then Ray: "that women’s lib Kate Hilperton jumping up out of nowhere, he’d have words with her husband when he got home; he didn’t know what words, but as he was led away to his car, he was sure they’d come to him." Finally, the absurdity of Ray's demands of "Who's in charge?" amidst all these calmly self-possessed women is just masterful. The whole thing reads like Emerald Fennell meets The Bad Sisters and they all go to a campout at Greenham. Bravo!
oh that warms my heart so much, that first quote you picked out is one of my favourite scenes with Ray, I saw it so clearly, I got to watch him even though he couldn’t see me. And Emerald Fennell + Bad Sisters - you couldn’t have picked a higher praise than that, thank you. That tone was exactly what I was driving at, and funnily enough, I’m about to send a galley to the woman herself, of a different novel, but here’s hoping…. 🤞🏼
“A few blankets and four million rolls of toilet paper aren’t going to save us. I’m not going to die in Surbiton, dad. If they’re going to bomb us, I’m going to die here.” A cheer went up that took Bridget by surprise. She’d never thought anyone took notice of a single thing that came out of her mouth. The women behind her were clapping. “At least I can be who I want to be.”
The way this passage swings from comedy (not dying in Surbiton) to pathos ("she’d never thought anyone took notice of a single thing that came out of her mouth") is so beguiling. And the beautiful embedded irony of Ray, blustering and weak, with his one headlamp suggesting a comparison with Cyclopes, a symbol of strength, is lovely.
This moment when Ray meets Greenham, it was a scene I was driving at through the first act. It meant so much to me, was so important to get those facets working all at once.
Thanks so much. Coming from one who knows, that feels high praise indeed. You know how it is, the doubts, the does it work, and rattling in the background, all the comments from editors who turned it down. It’s hugely gratifying, no, more than that, it’s life sustaining to take it to readers and hear the truth of how it lands. x
Love the contrast between the self-organized, confident women and the who’s-in-charge men, the futility of the zipper and the single headlight, cracks in the (fake) armor. This says it all: “the rules of a knowing look, man to man with nothing else to be added, a shorthand for understanding, a cover to cover up what couldn’t be said.”
the grating of a zipper trying to pull things back together, how they "should be" - sliding, in charge, but without purchase, then resigning to things left open, in frustration. still, the law's the law. amazing Chapter, Eleanor. you can feel Bridget's empowerment and determination, and the futility of authority lashing out, in a space it doesn't fully control.
The paragraph after the scene with Ray and the policeman is so sad.
yes. it felt sad writing it. x
Fabulous fiction, Eleanor. I believe this also reflects current conditions in which men refuse to budge in their thinking and conduct, yet feel oppressed by civilized humans. His interaction with the police officer had the feel of an incel morale boosting meet up.
Thanks so much
Man, I keep thinking about how common it is for men to hide their true selves in society—and easy to fall in line. But the torment and bound angst on the inside! Ray plays the part and is accepted by his tribe while negating himself with every move. Brilliant decision to include his dissonance in this story.
I’ve so much to say about Ray…
She's finally got a voice, so happy for Bridget :)
Ray and his broken zipper and all his absurdities! This chapter had me cracking up.
I cackled so many times throughout this chapter...
"He’d refused to let her hold the map. He tore the page turning it over and almost set the car alight trying to light one cigarette off another. Basingstoke was badly scalded and he was going to have a job finding Reading." Then the patrol of squaddies shouting at Ray, “Man overboard!” and another, “Go on, lad, swim for your life!” And then Ray: "that women’s lib Kate Hilperton jumping up out of nowhere, he’d have words with her husband when he got home; he didn’t know what words, but as he was led away to his car, he was sure they’d come to him." Finally, the absurdity of Ray's demands of "Who's in charge?" amidst all these calmly self-possessed women is just masterful. The whole thing reads like Emerald Fennell meets The Bad Sisters and they all go to a campout at Greenham. Bravo!
oh that warms my heart so much, that first quote you picked out is one of my favourite scenes with Ray, I saw it so clearly, I got to watch him even though he couldn’t see me. And Emerald Fennell + Bad Sisters - you couldn’t have picked a higher praise than that, thank you. That tone was exactly what I was driving at, and funnily enough, I’m about to send a galley to the woman herself, of a different novel, but here’s hoping…. 🤞🏼
Oh, crossing everything on my person! 🤞🏼
“A few blankets and four million rolls of toilet paper aren’t going to save us. I’m not going to die in Surbiton, dad. If they’re going to bomb us, I’m going to die here.” A cheer went up that took Bridget by surprise. She’d never thought anyone took notice of a single thing that came out of her mouth. The women behind her were clapping. “At least I can be who I want to be.”
The way this passage swings from comedy (not dying in Surbiton) to pathos ("she’d never thought anyone took notice of a single thing that came out of her mouth") is so beguiling. And the beautiful embedded irony of Ray, blustering and weak, with his one headlamp suggesting a comparison with Cyclopes, a symbol of strength, is lovely.
This moment when Ray meets Greenham, it was a scene I was driving at through the first act. It meant so much to me, was so important to get those facets working all at once.
Well it worked. It's brilliant.
🙌
This novel is amazing on so many levels, Eleanor. Story, character, prose and it’s a masterclass in multiple points of view.
Thanks so much. Coming from one who knows, that feels high praise indeed. You know how it is, the doubts, the does it work, and rattling in the background, all the comments from editors who turned it down. It’s hugely gratifying, no, more than that, it’s life sustaining to take it to readers and hear the truth of how it lands. x
Love the contrast between the self-organized, confident women and the who’s-in-charge men, the futility of the zipper and the single headlight, cracks in the (fake) armor. This says it all: “the rules of a knowing look, man to man with nothing else to be added, a shorthand for understanding, a cover to cover up what couldn’t be said.”
wow, this one hit hard. three cheers for Bridget for standing up to her father, that was powerful.
the grating of a zipper trying to pull things back together, how they "should be" - sliding, in charge, but without purchase, then resigning to things left open, in frustration. still, the law's the law. amazing Chapter, Eleanor. you can feel Bridget's empowerment and determination, and the futility of authority lashing out, in a space it doesn't fully control.
Thank you