The Unbearable Bassingtonby Saki
Rating: ★★★★
Publication Date: January 1, 1978
Pages: 146
Genre: Fiction
Publisher: Folio Society
The handsome and infuriatingly nonchalant Comus Bassington and his mother Francesca are struggling along at the edges somewhat — an advantageous marriage would certainly help. And Comus has met an heiress who appeals, Elaine de Frey. But he has a rival, his friend Courtenay Youghal, who is an up and coming young politician of great surface charm.
Francesca is relying on Comus, and there’s no accounting for what she might do if he doesn’t come up trumps. It will not only be embarrassing to his and his mother’s pride, it will also place a terrible strain on their resources.
The tracing of not only the simmering and uproarious repartee, but also the implicit tragedy in the venal expectations of high society in The Unbearable Bassington introduced a new note in Saki’s repertoire. Their combined power made for a book which was instantly celebrated as one of the great novels of its decade.
I discovered Saki, (Hector Hugh Munro) when I read one of his short stories in a Folio collection of Christmas Ghost Stories. I thoroughly enjoyed it, so when I saw this short novel at a used book store I snapped it up, where it languished with all my other ‘improving’ books on my TBR.
Digression: The pandemic and this stupid broken leg have been a pain in the ass in most ways, but together they’ve wrought great improvements on the size of my TBR. There are noticeable spaces on the shelves!
The Unbearable Bassington – I don’t know what to say about it. Imagine an Austen novel with no redeeming or sympathetic characters. None. at. all. Imagine her scathing wit let loose on such a cast of worthless characters. The result is the pure misanthropic comedy Saki released here. Either Saki was having a bad day when he wrote this, or he truly found nothing redeeming in humanity, but either way this is the most mercenary glimpse of early 20th century London society I’ve ever read, and while it starts out as a comedy, and remains so through most of the book (a black comedy, to be sure) the ending is thoroughly … not tragic, because tragedy implies a level of sympathy or empathy and there’s none of that to be found between these covers, but not at all happy. In fact the author’s note at the beginning sums it up best:
Exactly so.
But oh, the writing is brilliant. Even though I found myself uncomfortable with the complete and utter lack of any redeeming quality, I couldn’t stop reading.
I’m not sure I could recommend this book unless someone was in the mood for a misanthropic read, but I do recommend giving Saki a try one way or there other.