Radclyffe Hall became famous – perhaps infamous in her day – for her novel The Well of Loneliness a ground-breaking novel in lesbian literature. I loved that novel – although it gets increasingly bleak and is not terribly positive. I was compelled to keep reading and didn’t at all mind Hall’s rather flowery writing style. Before writing that novel Hall was already a published novelist and poet. The obscenity trial that followed the publication of The Well of Loneliness resulted in an order for all copies to be destroyed. A Saturday Life was published three years before that book which was to cause such an unwarranted furore. It is an altogether lighter book, a comic novel about a precocious child, artistic experience and the possibility of reincarnation.

Sidonia Shore is the only daughter of the gently vague Lady Prudence Shore, a woman whose head is generally somewhere in Ancient Egypt. Her husband, himself a great Egyptologist has died, and she is determined to carry on his life’s work and ensure his name is not forgotten. Her daughter Sidonia is only seven years old as the novel opens, when the child’s nurse finds her dancing naked in the drawing room. When challenged, Sidonia bites the nurse and the shocked woman has no choice but to rouse Lady Shore from her Egyptian ruminations. Sidonia’s mother is rather at a loss as how to deal with her eccentric child – and enlists the help of her friend Lady Frances Reide who lives nearby and is a frequent visitor.

Sidonia is clearly a precocious child – and Frances suggests that her mother enrol her in the Rose Valery dance school in Fulham. Here the pupils – under the tutelage of their teacher, endeavour to recapture the soul of Ancient Greece.

“Sidonia’s first appearance at the Rose Valery School was positively melodramatic. To begin with, she looked so extremely unusual, with her pale face and shock of auburn curls. She was little and quiet and immensely self-possessed, not at all put out by the groups of gaping students. The moment Rose Valery set eyes on the child she had, or so she said afterwards, great difficulty in stifling a scream of pleasure.”

Prudence and Frances can only hope that Sidonia is able to express herself artistically at the school, while keeping her clothes on. Sidonia behaves impeccably to begin with – but she finds clothes so restrictive for dance – and soon removes them, dancing naked before her classmates in the cloakroom. Frances has some work to do in persuading Rose Valery to allow Sidonia back after this – she has been receiving letters from uncles after all. For a few years Sidonia is happy dancing at the school – but the strictures of the school and clothing begin to take their toll on her talent, and her dancing changes. Soon Sidonia finds she no longer loves dance – and completely gives it up.

Over the next twenty years, Frances continues to support and counsel Sidonia and her mother. Sidonia changes artistic discipline every few years. With extraordinary enthusiasm she takes up each new interest, perfecting and obsessing over each new talent as it crops up. Sidonia appears to have the most extraordinary talent for everything she takes up. Piano, wax modelling, sculpture and singing are each taken up fully embraced and then discarded. Lady Shore can barely keep up, so lost in her own world is she, that her daughter’s artistic developments are a constant confusion.

When she is in her sculpture phase, Sidonia is working under the tutelage of Einar Jensen alongside a roomful of other students who she never really gets to know. She is determined to be awarded the travelling scholarship, and to go to Italy and continue her studies there. Once Sidonia is set on something it’s sure to happen – and she does win the scholarship and persuades Frances to accompany her to Italy. Frances is a wonderful foil to Sidonia’s wild enthusiasm, wryly sardonic, sensible and practical – she’s not keen to go to Italy – she is far more at home, spending time in the predictable though vague company of her old friend. However, Sidonia gets her own way as usual.

It is in Italy, that Frances first learns about a Saturday Life in an old book she buys. It provides one explanation for Sidonia’s taking up and throwing off of artistic disciplines. A theory requiring a belief in reincarnation.

“People who are living a ‘Saturday life’ are said to have no new experiences, but to spend it entirely in a last rehearsal of experiences previously gained. They are said to exhibit remarkable talent for a number of different things; but since they have many memories to revive, they can never concentrate for long on one. This also applies to their relationships with people, which are generally unsatisfactory.”

In Italy Sidonia is introduced to the Ferraris, a family of singing teachers – old friends of Frances’. Soon, Sidonia has lost all interest in sculpture and taken up singing as if she was born to it. Frances is furious at her wasting the scholarship and its not long before she returns to England – happy to be more and more in the company of her old friend Prudence. When Sidonia returns to London, she meets David, falling hopelessly in love. David is quite a contrast to the rest of the book, and like Frances I had my doubts about him. He is a traditional type with fixed ideas about women.

“‘I think that you ought to have married. Why haven’t you married, my dear?’ He stood surveying her critically, but his eyes were not altogether unsympathetic. She thought: ‘Supposing I tried to explain? And began to laugh softly to herself. ‘Bless you!’ she said, ‘I’ve never wanted to marry.’
‘All women do,’ he told her.
‘Not being a woman, how can you know?’
‘Because I’m a man, I suppose.’

The reader of course understands early on that Frances is a lesbian, Hall gives us plenty of clues. Living alone, wearing rather masculine clothes, quietly devoted to Prudence. She is easily the most interesting character in the book.
The ending is enigmatic – has Sidonia found her last great fulfilment in life – will it be a happy ending? ( )

I really enjoyed this, but I'm not sure why. Sidonia is gifted and difficult and whimmish; the book is the story of her life, and after all her promising starts she marries an underwhelming boy and has a baby. Much better than this description makes it sound. The relationship between Lady Shore (never quite understanding her child, or anything other than her archaeology), Francis (mannish, and adoring of both Lady Shore and Sidonia) and Sidonia (in love with whatever she is in love with this week) is the heart of it. ( )

' According to an Eastern tradition, whose origin is lost in antiquity, there are certain spirits who incarnate seven times only on Earth. The seventh incarnation of such a spirit is known as "the Final Path", but among those in the West who hold this theory it is sometimes referred to as "The Saturday Life".

'People who are living a "Saturday Life" are said to have no new experiences, but to spend it entirely in a last rehearsal of experiences previously gained. They are said to exhibit remarkable talent for a number of different things; but since they have many memories to revive, they can never concentrate for long on one. This also applies to their relations with people, which are generally unsatisfactory.'

Sidonia Shore is the daughter of the widowed Lady Prudence Shore, who is devoted to the memory of her husband Sir Godfrey, an Egyptologist. Lady Shore busies herself with his papers -- writing his biography and a commentary on his beloved scarabs. But then there is Sidonia, a beautiful, willful child beset by instinctive talents to which she becomes passionately attached one after another. Her mother and her mother's devoted friend, Frances Reide, cossett Sidonia with private tutors and lessons as she flits from one passion to another, trying to find "the thing that's inside me to get out -- my talent, my genius -- whatever it is."

Hall's early novel is amusing, but wildly uneven. While it seems to be set in the Edwardian and Georgian periods (near the end of the novel there are automobiles that can reach the breakneck speed of 60 mph), there is no sense of any of the social or political upheaval in Britain and Europe at the time. Only Frances, with her mannish costumes and monocled eye hints at the sexual tension underlying the period (and Hall's own life). There is gentle satire of the privileged, wealthy lives that the characters lead, but it is satire with no acid.

In sum, a short, pleasant read, but rather perplexing as to the author's purpose, even as the dedication reads "To Myself."

One warning -- if you pick this up, read the novel before the introduction which is full of spoilers. ( )

Sidonia is the sort of child who develops deep temporary interests in many things. Everything she tries seems to be a unique gift, whether it be dance, sculpture, or singing. Sidonia's mother is a fussy and incompetent woman. She doesn't know what to make of her daughter's activities, and would rather spend her time working on her late husband's studies of ancient Egypt. The only moderating force in Sidonia's life is her governess, Francis.

And Francis is clearly the most interesting character in this book. Francis is desperately in love with Sidonia's mother, Lady Shore, and she is in love with Sidonia by extension. Francis's love must by definition remain unrequited, as Lady Shore does not live in a world in which women love other women. Francis's life is one of systematic frustration.

Sidonia is the main character in this book, but she is much less interesting than Francis. Sidonia is blissfully unaware of all of the things others do for her, and she certainly fails to understand Francis. In short, Sidonia is irritating.

This is one of Hall's early books. Her later books are known for their lesbian characters. Francis should have been the focus of this book, not Sidonia. It seemed as if Hall was testing the waters, seeking her audience. I think I might prefer her later work. ( )

Odd, abrupt and engaging is A Saturday Life as it veers from descriptions and insights both amusing and somber. On the surface it is the story of an unusually precocious and gifted child, Sidonia Shore, daughter of a shy and retiring widow The emotional heart of the story lies with Frances, Lady Shore’s close friend. Frances’ sexuality is presented as ambivalent and unexpressed, except in a few mannerisms of clothing and tastes. As Sidonia flits from one passion to the next, it is Frances who arranges for the tutors, teachers, trips, Frances who soothes and explains. A more moving picture of the ‘family friend,’ both essential and taken for granted I’ve rarely encountered. The portrait of Frances and Lady Shore enjoying being alone together again after Sidonia is married is as sweet and funny as the callous and malicious treatment of Frances by David, Sidonia’s new husband, was painful and ugly. Frances maintains her dignity, but it is a open window into the chilly life of those who are considered ‘different.‘

The reason for the title becomes clear when Frances finds a book on reincarnation in a secondhand bookstall that explains “People who are living a Saturday Life are said to have no new experiences, but to spend it entirely in a last rehearsal of experiences previously gained.” It seems to explain Sidonia, perhaps. After all her different experiments at the arts, she ends up marrying a handsome English toff, once again assuming a new persona that leaves Frances in a kind of speechless despair.

After many humiliations at David’s hands (including a car ride where Frances is relegated to the open back of a new car that David races in a manner quite reminiscent of Toad) there is one final conversation where David literally bullies verbally:

“Bless you,” she said, “I’ve never wanted to marry!”
“All women do,” he told her.
“Not being a woman how can you know?”
“Because I’m a man, I suppose.”
This answer was so illogical, so naively opinionated, that Frances, in spite of her irritation, could not find it in her heart to retort. “

A Saturday Life is a bumpy book, in which so much is implied and not said, that what is NOT said, strikes the reader harder than what is as well as the questions left open-ended, such as the extent of Frances’ self-knowledge, and whether Sidonia is quite special and different or if her inconstancy is a flaw in an otherwise brilliant gem? The answers may be there and I may have missed them, but I think they are left open by design.

I gave it a four -- a very worthwhile read. ( )