Photo by Dean Vallance on Unsplash
I recently started reading Lark Rise by Flora Thompson (1939) for a book group I participate in. This is my first time reading the story, though I’ve watched the BBC series adapted from it. I want to share some observations and thoughts based on my first read of the opening chapter.
This is a great example of how to open a story about a world the reader won’t be familiar with. We come into the hamlet slowly and deliberately with exquisite details about the land, the people, the work they engage in, their social status, and where they fit in the larger world outside the small hamlet. We come to understand how they typically solve their problems and how they are as a collective and where they differentiate. It reminds me in many ways of the prologue of The Fellowship of the Ring in which we learn what we need to know about hobbits and their history before the adventures begin. There is activity in this opening chapter, but the story hasn’t yet begun.
This opening is like a lush painting that captures a place in time, specifically a time before major technological and social change. I would say snapshot, but it’s more like a vast landscape painting, lovingly crafted, with details we can only see if we spend time peering into it.
The overall feeling I get is of nostalgia, even longing. This feeling is generated in part through the narrative perspective (temporal distance) and the specific words used to invoke the image of the hamlet. The narration is happening sometime later; the narrator is looking back on a way of life that is no longer present and has, no doubt, a different perspective than if it were written contemporaneously. The chapter is entitled “Poor People’s Houses,” but the narrator makes a point of telling us that “Lark Rise must not be thought of as a slum set down in the country. The inhabitants lived an open-air life; the cottages were kept clean by much scrubbing with soap and water, and doors and windows stood open when weather permitted.” The narrator conveys her sense of pride in the place.
Still, the narrator is not afraid to be critical of certain behaviors, particularly the slaughtering of pigs. “[C]ountry people of that day had little sympathy for the sufferings of the animals, and men, women, and children would gather round to see the sight.” Before events that she calls savage, each family devotes great attention to their pig because they are so connected to their survival and way of life.
Details of the world beyond Lark Rise are smuggled in through the headlines and pictures in newspapers that lined the outhouse walls.
This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words.
At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.