Tuesday, 23 March 2021

Bigotry in Bournemoth: Whatever Happened to Margo?


Whatever Happened to Margo? by Margaret Durrell 
Penguin
Pp. 259

Those who read Gerald Durrell’s Corfu Trilogy about the escapades of the Durrell family on the Greek island in the 1930s, will be familiar with the character of Margo, and may indeed be interested in discovering what became of her. Fortunately for them, she has written a book about her subsequent life as a landlady in a Bournemouth boarding house. Unfortunately, she is not as entertaining a writer as her brother, and, whereas his anthropological remarks on animals were amusing and informative, hers on people are snobbish and dated.

After prompting from an aunt, Margo decides to buy a property across the street from her mother’s house, with money which was “a legacy from my father – dwindled somewhat”. She is ‘respectable’ and ‘middle-class’ with a divorce and two male children to her name, but there is no evidence of actual work. Her plan to take in a series of lodgers is a decent one especially since (one suspects) she has no employable talents.

It is 1947 and attitudes were different then, but the language and assumptions about her lodgers are quite ugly when related to modern readers. Edward Feather is a flamboyant red-bearded painter, leading to words like ‘nonce’ and ‘pansy’ being bandied about and smirks about men who wear tight trousers. Harriet is an eccentric old lady who accuses others of stealing her belongings while removing all the lightbulbs in the public spaces; when the residents gather over psychology books to decide what is wrong with her, at first they think she is “on the change”, a theory they quickly discount as “she’s too old for such capers”. Nelson is an obnoxious Billy Bunter type schoolboy (whom we are supposed to like for some inexplicable reason) and his harassed mother, who have fallen on hard times as their father/husband is in prison serving time for assault of her mother; he broke a plate over her head and she had to have twenty stitches.

Other residents include a man who abuses his wife – no one does anything until they dislike the noise – There is also Jane, a spinster, who is mercilessly ridiculed for being unattractive; a man who comes into money, which makes him a catch; a pair of musicians, one of whom Margo falls in love with; two glamorous nurses; and a bloke trying to get a job and a partner with equally limited success – he has a relationship with an Eastern European woman whom Margo, when she discovers she is transgender, reports to the police and a psychiatrist. All the women are in competition for men’s attentions, and the men are all expected to drool over attractive young females, while making fools of older ones. “It was surprising what a compliment from another man could do, lifting the drabbest of married women almost to prettiness.”

In a nod to her brother’s writings on animals, there are some in the house, including a dog (a present from her brother, Leslie) that cocks a leg over anything it chooses, including the baby’s pram. Gerald himself brings a python and a troop of monkeys for her to look after, and of course they escape with hilarious consequences. Meanwhile, the insufferable Nelson breeds mice to sell, causing Margo to display one of her many peculiar views as she remarks that there are “white mice breeding in the back lavatory like Communist China”.

The descriptions of her mother as an uptight suburbanite are a long way from the courageous woman who took her children to a Mediterranean island in search of a better life, and mingled with a cast of colourful characters in Gerald’s books. Here she is judgmental and small-minded, referring to a lovelorn woman as “walking barefoot like some male aborigine with twigs in her hair”. Margo packs her own children off to their father and takes Nelson on a trip to the seaside. She seems more interested in him than in her own offspring, and one wonders whether they will in time write their own account of these days in a never-ending family spiral. If they do, let’s hope it is in the style of their uncle rather than their mother.