Several years ago, I had the distinct pleasure of watching Miss Potter,
an enchanting biopic detailing the early publishing life of beloved
children’s book author Beatrix Potter. I’d always loved her stories, but
this film gave me a better idea of who she was as a person. I loved her
spirit, her artistic drive and her conservationist fervor, and I was
utterly touched by the deep friendship she shared with her publisher,
Norman Warne, the childlike young man who would ultimately propose
marriage to her. This chaste but intense relationship unfolds
beautifully upon the screen, and echoes of it resonate throughout The Tale of Hill Top Farm, the first in a series of novels by Susan Wittig Albert that explores Beatrix’s life in England’s Lake District.
While
the plots and most of the characters are invented for the series, the
books use the contours of Beatrix’s life as a framework, and in this
first book, Norman is still very much on Beatrix’s mind. The story is
tinged with sadness because Beatrix is attempting to rebuild her life in
the wake of his sudden death from a severe illness. Sometimes, the
agony of her solitude nearly immobilizes her, as does regret over her
failure to stand up to her disapproving parents, which could have
allowed her a bit more precious time with Norman. Albert writes movingly
of Beatrix’s struggle to get on with her life, particularly in the
second chapter, when Beatrix reflects upon “Gentle Norman, whom she had
loved with all the fierce, pent-up passion of a heart that had long ago
despaired of loving or being loved.”
She also explores her
devotion and bereavement through another character, Beatrix’s pet mouse
Tom Thumb, who lost his wife, Hunca Munca, in an accident the year
before. Of course, his feelings are not quite so deep as Beatrix’s, as
we discover rather comically the first time he comes into contact with
another mouse. But Tom is distraught enough to elicit sympathy from his
perceptive owner.
Just as Miss Potter included
understated animation to give us the sense of the way the animals she
drew came alive for Beatrix, Albert incorporates animals organically as
well. Many of them are meant to be animals Beatrix based her book
characters on, and she has some fun setting up contrasts between the
animals’ personalities or physical features and those of their fictional
counterparts. Some chapters focus exclusively upon these animals, whose
dialogue is all rendered in italics, a simple but effective way to help
readers keep track of whether the speaker is an animal or a “Big
Person,” as they call the humans. They are also present throughout the
rest of the novel, commenting on the conversation of village residents
and wishing they could make themselves understood. Some of my favorite
parts of this first book involve the animals finding clever ways to help
Jeremy, a sensitive, artistic child who has been falsely accused of
stealing by his ill-tempered teacher.
Most likely, some people
will find the integration of the animals annoying or feel that it takes
them out of the story, but in my case, it drew me in more, and it was
fun to see the differing perspectives on the same event. The human
characters are enjoyable as well, though I found myself a bit
overwhelmed by them. This is one of those tiny towns like Mitford or Ballykissangel
where a host of colorful residents reside and everyone knows each
other. Albert helpfully provides a glossary of characters, mentioning
both humans and animals and indicating those that actually existed, but I
still got a little bogged down at first. I’m sure this will get better
as the books go along, since this one is so much about establishing the
various characters. My favorites include the independent-minded Dimity
Woodcock, who lives with her bachelor brother, a Justice of the Peace;
Samuel Sackett, the mild-mannered vicar who does his best to keep the
peace among the sometimes contentious townspeople; strong-willed Bertha
Stubbs, who has a habit of accidentally inventing words in her attempts
to be grandiloquent; and the aforementioned Jeremy, a thoroughly
charming child. Then, of course, there is shy solicitor William Heelis,
one of the few real-life characters and the man Beatrix would eventually
marry.
Albert uses over-the-shoulder narration that flits from
one person to the next, so meandering through the novel feels a lot like
listening to one of Garrison Keillor’s
tales from Lake Wobegon. We focus on one character, then another, then
another, and by the time we get back to the first character we’ve
half-forgotten what he or she was doing. But, as with Keillor, I was
mostly too busy getting swept away to notice, even though few really
extraordinary things happen. It’s a sleepy plot punctuated by a few
exclamation point moments.
Albert lives in Texas, but her use of
English speech patterns feels authentic, and her descriptions of the
lush countryside are enough to make me want to book a trip there. While
we spend so much time in other characters’ heads that I’m not sure it
would be entirely accurate to call Beatrix the central character in this
novel, the author does take particular care when writing about this
spunky but reserved artist-storyteller in her early 30s who is looking
for a fresh start. A woman with a sharp sense of humor but a
compassionate spirit, Beatrix is very easy to latch onto, and I found
myself empathizing with her often.
I grew up with Peter Rabbit, Jemima Puddle-Duck, Jeremy Fisher and
so many other wonderful Beatrix Potter characters, and Beatrix herself
is someone I relate to in many ways. Even though this first volume
spends more time on background and character set-up than plot, I enjoyed
it very much and look forward to visiting with Beatrix again soon.
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