Daisy Ashford (1)Besprekingen

Evidently the first attempt of a 9-year-old Victorian child at novel-writing, forgotten about for several years, then rediscovered when she was grown up and circulated amongst her friends to provide some amusement. A charming amount of misspelling. It has a few giggles in it, like when Bernard Clark "always had a few prayers in the hall and some whiskey afterwards as he was rarther pious" or when he decides that he must not propose marriage in the city, but in a country setting, where they can be surrounded by "the gay twittering of the birds and the smell of the cows."
Or when Ethel announces that she's almost ready to go out, since she had her bath last night and doesn't need to wash much this morning and Bernard replies, "No dont... you are fresher than the rose my dear no soap could make you fairer."
But, all things told, it really provides no more than a few minutes' amusement, and it is about as short as it should be.

This short book is rather a novelty, having been written by the author as a 9 year old in 1890, though not published until 1919. While obviously displaying the inexperienced in life approach one might expect, it shows an understanding of narrative and plot, and an eye for descriptive detail unusual for one so young, The author wrote other stories at a young age, including one when even younger than when she wrote this one, some of which have been lost. Don't expect great drama, obviously, but this shows some familiarity with, and ability to laugh at, some of the habits of the time.

I'm extremely fond of literary curiosities, books whose very existence we owe to a set of extraordinary events, texts that are quirky and special without particularly trying.

"Mr Salteena was an elderly man of 42 and was fond of asking peaple [sic] to stay with him." So begins this charming piece of juvenilia, the work of an unusually perceptive and persistent nine-year-old girl. We have to admire the young author's perseverance - how many manuscripts drafted at such a tender age actually see completion? Admittedly, we are talking about nothing more than twelve rather short chapters, but our authoress still manages to weave an entertaining narrative, and even takes the time to carefully describe the clothes worn by each character in each scene. Her characters are portrayed in enough detail so as to be fairly distinct from each other and to inspire enough interest in their fate to keep the reader curious enough to follow through to the end. J. M. Barrie, in his preface to the book, even remarks on the writer's knack for knowing just when to end a chapter, both in the sense of separating the text into coherent logical units, and especially in that there is always a little suspense before she returns to either Ethel or Mr. Salteena.

The many spelling mistakes, far from rendering the text unreadable, actually serve as a constant reminder of who the author is, form her own peculiar idiolect and even, one might argue, style, and are, quite simply, hilarious. It is evident that our wordsmith has done her research, albeit subconsciously - the influence of popular novels of her day has apparently been significant enough for her to memorise the formulae of her chosen form and genre. Her writing is never dry, because adjectives and adverbs are used liberally throughout, often in the most fantastic constructions and combinations. What I personally find most remarkable about the entire piece is the almost awe-inspiring sense that this girl is fully aware that she is god to her characters and their fates, that she indubitably values her own work and is ready to assume the responsibility of standing behind her tale and to address those on the other side as "my readers".

How lucky we are that Ms. Ashford opened a particular drawer containing a particular exercise book (now seventeen years old!) on a particular day, how lucky that her friend was recovering from an illness and wanted to be entertained, how lucky that it finally reached a publishing house willing to print a text that wasn't even divided into paragraphs!

If you have a little time to spare, seek out this singular read (you can find it for free on Project Gutenberg). It's a tiny, but bright gem of semi-obscure literature that is well worth anyone's time.

So I will end my review.

The young visiters or, Mr. Salteena’s plan is a novella-length story written in 1890 by then-9-year-old Daisy Ashford. It wasn’t published until 1919, when the then-adult author could be convinced to make this particular piece of juvenilia available to the public.

This was such enormous fun to read. It’s a romantic story about social climbers; Ashford at nine was clearly familiar with Victorian literature. The main characters, Ethel Monticue and Mr. Salteena, would very much like to be part of the upper class, though they take different pathways there.

To start with, the story is obviously written by a child. The characters read like petulant children that talk in a mixture of child-speak and phrases the author has picked up from books and from adults around her, all of it presented in its original clumsy spelling. Their behaviour is erratic: the logic behind their behaviour is that of children who don’t quite understand why adults do and say the things they do. Also, the author thinks it is of the utmost importance that every character has their name mentioned (even the extras), and that all of their clothes are described in detail, to the point where several characters change outfits multiple times per day. Taken together, that means the story is a great example of unintentional hilarity. On the other hand, the whole thing exudes such confidence and such seriousness -- it demands to be considered on its own terms. And in some ways the writing is pretty competent, too: there’s a narrative arc with higher stakes and increased tension, and there are two separate storylines whose interplay is handled just fine. And while the story may be told clumsily and naively, the romance and the social climbing are most definitely grown-up book material.

And that is why I loved this book so much: awkwardly spelled, clumsily imagined and naively characterised it may be, but it’s done with with such earnestness and, frankly, skill that I cannot but call it extremely charming. It’s a genuinely endearing booklet that cannot but command goodwill. It works because the discrepancy is only obvious to adult readers: the author simply does their best.

My e-copy was free, from Project Gutenberg, and came with an introduction by J. M. Barrie. Yes, him. I gather it’s been turned into a stage play and a musical, as well as a a 2003 BBC movie. The latter features Hugh Laurie, Lyndsey Marshal, Jim Broadbent, and Bill Nighy, and it looks like it’s a genuinely funny flick.

Go read it. It’ll take less than an hour and I guarantee you’ll feel enriched after.

Daisy Asford is better known for her 'The Young Visiters' (sic)- a Victorian romance written while a child and hugely entertaining to the adult reader in terms of the child's innocence of the world and numerous inadvertent humorous moments. This volume contains three further short stories, also written before and during her very early teens.
I adored 'The Life of Father McSwiney' - the earliest work, and one obviously informed by the author's Catholic upbringing and her exposure to works on the lives of the saints.
"Even when a baby (he) seemed to have a saintly smile on his Jesuit-like face". When asked if he has made his confession, " 'No', said little James, 'but I should like to so much as I feel rather wicked.' "
The boy's piety naturally lead him into holy orders, and a meeting with the Pope, when the latter brings him a habit.
'"You have given me the wrong habit", said the good Jesuit.
"Have I? I thought you were going to be of the First Order of St Francis", said the mild and innocent Pius IX.
"Please give me the black habit, if your holiness does not mind," answered the most 'beautiful-in-his-words' Father McSwiney.'
As the Father advances in his calling ("you are the piousest of all...I'll make you a Jesuit if you like."), we have the wonderful scene of he and the Pope off sightseeing in London:
"I will now tell you where those two went. They went to Durrant's Hotel to spend a few nights with a favourite Catholic waiter of theirs. The first lark they had was to go to Drury Lane with this waiter. As the three walked together, the waiter said "There's a love scene in the play", and the Pope nudged Father McSwiney. "

The second tale, "Where Love Lies Deepest", opens with a poor girl refusing the proposal of a wealthy suitor. Real Victorian romantic fare; the poor girl actually doesnt seem too badly off at all, since an invite to spend the winter in Paris with a friend ("Oh Mother, do let me go...you know I am much stronger since I took to eating Mother Segul's Syrup.") is followed up by her meeting her farmer father in the fields and being plied with "£10 in ready gold" for a new wardrobe....

The longest, "The Hangman's Daughter" (some 170p) is quite a feat of writing. The hangman in question is a decent chap, a widower and devoted father to his daughter, Helen. But while called away to ply his trade, he meets a dreadful end at the hand of two dastardly family friends.
Moments of action ("With a cow-like jump, and with the fury of a lion, he sprang upon Lawrence"); wonderful descriptions ("a very tall, thin woman with reddy coloured hair done very high on her head and small winky blue eyes"); a heart-rending epistle, where Gladys sadly breaks with her Mother, the scene spoilt only by the girl's throwaway comment on completing it : "You will post this on the way home, won't you?" !
All most entertaining.½

That rare creature, the truly hilarious book. Young authoress Daisy Ashford has apparently been reading quite a bit above her age level and attempted to create her own novel without quite understanding the way the world works. It's a delight from start to finish ... slightly wearing nearer the end, but it's awfully short, so it's fine. It's the only thing like it (I'm sure lots of other young writers have turned out something similar, but without being quite so charming, and without getting published!) Also turned into quite a faithful film with Tracy Ullmann, if you're so inclined.

Great little short read. Written with so much detail and insight really for a nine year old, takes you back to when life was simple. An intriguing and delightful little story.

Why did I read this? Hugh Laurie in that movie version? Yeah, probably that. Pagan god!

It was a very cute story and all the spelling errors were left in. Written by a child of 9, I found it sweet and amusing.

This was, apparently, written by a 9-year-old girl in 1890. Precocious for that age, yes, but there's not much else to say about it, I'm afraid.½

This novella was supposedly written by Daisy Ashford at the age of nine (some suspect J.M. Barrie, who sponsored its publication, actually wrote it. It was published in 1919 in the format of the original manuscript with spelling errors and all. The story concerns a love triangle between Mr. Salteena "not quite a gentleman," the more attractive Bernard Clarke, and the even more attractive heroine Ethel. I got this because it was mentioned positively in Josephine Tey's Miss Pym Disposes as a book that makes readers smile.

Hilarious story written by a nine-year-old girl in 1890. 3 1/2 stars.

I'm less convinced than most apparently are that this was actually written by a child, but be that as it may, this is a decent, quick read. However, its main lasting value is to allow one to fully appreciate Ring Lardner's parody "The young immigrunts".

The Young Visiters (or, Mr. Salteena's Plan) was written in 1919 by Daisy Ashford. I have two editions. The first bears the inscription, "To Esta Evelyn from Mother Jane December 1928."

Now it is 2011 and I am puzzled as to why my mother thought it was a book for a then-five year old (altho I was precocious). My second copy is from Doubleday & Co. , 1952. I bought it myself.

They both include the delightful Preface by J. M. Barrie, and illustrations by William Pene duBois.The earlier one has a photograph of the author and a picture of the first page of the original manuscript is in both.

The book? A wonderful, marvelous, look at high society.

I am writing this June 25, 2011, a day after we discovered we can get a movie version from Netflix. I immediately took the books off the shelf and reread it. I'm hoping its spirit lives on in the film!
******* July 3: Having seen the movie will post this caution: the movie probably only is of interest if you know the book. Sorry to say the actors mug a lot. There are, however a few shining moments if you have the patience to wait for them.

Three reasons to read The Young Visiters (sic) by Daisy Ashford, written in 1890 and published in 1919:

1) For its storylines of romance and social advancement -- the foreword proclaims it “a Victorian novel in miniature.”

2) For its nine-year-old author, though to be clear this isn't a story about children, nor necessarily even one for child readers. Ashford's spelling is often phonetic (she especially loves sumshious) and the subtext is funny, even racy; yet she senses the needs of readers and is versant on the concerns of adults (including men).

3) For its literary dustup, where (especially in the USA) J.M. Barrie’s preface (not included in my edition) prompted questions about whether Ashford or Barrie really wrote the book. (This 1920 NY Times article (pdf) concludes for the child, as generally does history.)

A delightful story, and noted also for the illustrations of Posy Simmonds. Written by a young girl, but quite famous for the immense number of phrases that are innocent but have a soert of double entendre to them for the louche adult eye. Simmonds' illustrations tend to enhance the process!

This 1890 book, "the greatest novel written by a nine-year-old", chronicles the adventures of Mr. Salteena and his friends Edith and Bernard as the first attempts to climb the social ladder and the latter two fall madly in love. Of course, having been written by a nine-year-old, it's comical in that way that kids can be when they're deadly serious about something. The author evidently incorporated her favorite phrases from books and overheard conversations, but still retained the spelling and grammar of a child, which leads to such sentences as "I am stopping with his Lordship said Mr Salteena and have a set of compartments in the basement so there." The crowning moment of the book comes when Bernard proposes to Edith during a picnic next to a river; Ms. Ashford really pulled out all the stops and packed in just about every 19th century romantic cliche in existence, to hilarious effect. As J.M. Barrie writes in the preface, "It seems to me to be a remarkable work for a child, remarkable even in its length and completeness, for when children turn author they usually stop in the middle, like the kitten when it jumps."

NA

Gift from Mom? First American edition?

Geschreven in 1890 op 9-jarige leeftijd