Customer Reviews

Love in a Cold Climate

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This is a fun, interesting novel that is not for anyone who does not love irony. It is perhaps best appreciated by people who may like Waugh (I think they were friends). Possibly if anyone likes Jan Austen, this novel will please you as well. The similarities to Austen are only in the stucture of certain scenes, and the happy, silliness of the plot wonderfully subverts Jane Austen. Its a really sad and comic look at love and women. It is perhaps mostly about the changing times for women of a particular class. The only reason I do not give it five stars is that I feel it ends too abruptly. But the last scene is magnificent. Look for the paralels between it and the last scenes of sense and sensibility. Its great!

This book is not for the girly, sentimental novel reading sort unless you have a good sense of humor.

The Kindle edition by Penguin Classics (ASIN: B002RI9YOQ) also contains the novels "The Pursuit of Love" and "The Blessing"

On August 10th Vintage will reissue several classic novels by Nancy Mitford, including Love in a Cold Climate. Mitford was perhaps the brightest of the "Bright Young Things" immortalized in the fiction of Evelyn Waugh.

Originally published in 1949, Love in a Cold Climate is a comedy of manners that revolves around the naughty Polly Montdore, whose scandalous marriage left her disinherited, and her Canadian cousin Cedric Hampton, the heir apparent.

The action of both this and its prequel, The Pursuit of Love, run concurrently, taking place between the wars, with everyone's favorite cousin, Fanny Wincham, serving as impartial narrator.

Aside from an engaging storyline, tart wit and charming prose style, Love in a Cold Climate is of particular relevance to gay readers for the no nonsense presentation of the flamboyantly aesthetic Cedric, who is thoroughly and unrepentantly gay. He is a rather heroic character (not at all tragic like poor Sebastian Flyte from Brideshead Revisited and so many other gays of pre-Stonewall literature), possessed of great personal magnetism and self-esteem; and though his open homosexuality alternately shocks and delights society, he ultimately proves a great catalyst for happiness and reconciliation in the lives of those closest to him.

"Love in a Cold Climate," is certainly one of the most popular novels written by blue-blooded British author Nancy Mitford who was very popular in the earlier twentieth century. If you consider England between first and second world wars, few girls were as famous as the Mitfords, five beautiful daughters of a well-known upper class "county family" as the British would call them. Nancy, writer of the family, knew her debutante balls well. In fact, she later came up with a way to define English social class by defining speech as "U"for upper class; and "non-U" for those who weren't.

The Mitford girls, Nancy tells us, were "brought up to marry, not fall in love." Unfortunately, of the actual Mitford girls, only one did as she was expected to do. Deborah (Debo) married the eleventh Duke of Devonshire. Unity, however, hung around Germany, striking up warmer friendships with the Nazis, and expressing herself more forcefully in their support, than suited the British public. Diana went and married Sir Oswald Mosley, leader of the British fascists, who was "detained" for WWII. Jessica ran off to Hollywood, no less, took American citizenship, and wrote the whistle-blowing The American Way of Death a heavily influential indictment of the funeral business. Nancy did marry an "Honorable," but then she turned around and published The Pursuit of Love (Vintage), and LOVE IN A COLD CLIMATE, two slender novels, only novella length really, that pretty well blew the whistle on society, and on the novelist's family, the real-life Mitfords.

For everyone agrees that the central family of these novels, the Radletts, are the Mitfords to the life. Eccentric, choleric father; vague amiable mother; clamorous, animal-loving, quicksilver charming children. In LOVE IN A COLD CLIMATE, Polly Hampton has long been prepared for the perfect marriage by her mother, the frighteningly ambitious Lady Montdore. But Polly, with her great beauty and perfect upper-crust connections, is bored to tears by her fashionable London debut season. Polly has just come from India, you see, where her father served as Viceroy; she claims to have hoped that society in a colder climate would be less obsessed with the pursuit of love. But our Polly, seemingly so aloof, has a long-held secret that leads to the death of her mother's dreams and her own disinheritance. However, an elderly duke begins pursuing the disgraced Polly; a callow potential heir curries favor with her parents. Nothing goes as you might expect, but in the end everyone finds their own unconventional ideas of happiness.

Mind you, the pressure to marry well was always great. At one point, a powerful peeress advises Fanny, the narrator,"'Don't you go marrying anybody, for love. Remember that love cannot last; it never, never does; but if you marry all this it's for your life. One day, don't forget,you'll be middle-aged and think what that must be like for a woman who can't have, say, a pair of diamond earrings. A woman of my age needs diamonds near her face, to give a sparkle. Then at mealtimes, sitting with all the unimportant people for ever and ever. And no car. Not a very nice prospect,you know.'"

But Fanny, our narrator, hardly seems to need warning. She remarks at one point, "Always be civil to the girls, you never know who they may marry," is an aphorism which has saved many an English spinster from being treated like an Indian widow."

On a deeper level, however, Fanny seems to reflect her creator's ambivalence on whether to marry for love, or "all this." But there's still substantial ambivalence on that question.

LOVE IN A COLD CLIMATE can certainly be characterized as chick lit, still it is one of Nancy Mitford's most beloved novels. It is a sparkling romantic comedy, bright and charming that vividly evokes the lost glamor of aristocratic life in England between the wars. It seems to pick up right where TV's Upstairs, Downstairs: The Complete Series - 40th Anniversary Collection left off. Not to mention Evelyn Waugh's Vile Bodies, and Brideshead Revisited. Trust me, if you liked them, you'll love this.

The eldest and funniest of the six legendary Mitford sisters, Nancy Mitford wrote three autobiographical domestic comedies narrated by the conventional, levelheaded and engaging Fanny Wincham, who observes the antics of those around her with wit and sympathy.

This is the middle of the three (between The Pursuit of Love and Don't Tell Alfred) and still as enjoyable as it was when first published in 1949. All describe aristocratic England between the wars, when snobbery was an art form and women lived lives of pampered indolence, marked by balls and formal calls.

Fanny lives with an aunt and uncle "who had relieved my own divorced parents of the boredom and burden of bringing up a child," and has completed her London debutante season. At loose ends, she gladly accepts an invitation from the Montdores (back from years of "ruling India") to stay at their country estate and keep their only child, Polly, company.

The intimidating Lady Montdore has always been a ferocious snob and doting mother, but she is becoming alarmed. Polly, destined by beauty and blood for a great marriage, seems to have no interest. Indeed, Polly is disappointed to find that debutantes in England are as obsessed with love as those in India. " `I thought perhaps in a cold climate....' "

After Polly's glittering London season, "[her] performance only lacking vitality and temperament to make it perfect," the girls see much of each other. Polly would phone, ask what Fanny was up to.

" `Aching,' " I would reply, meaning aching with boredom, a malaise from which girls, before national service came to relieve them, were apt to suffer considerably."

During the course of the story Fanny marries and has children and Polly turns out to have a sensational secret, which leads to an unsuitable marriage and disinheritance. The Montdores, whose title and estate entails to a male heir in the wilds of Nova Scotia, invite the heretofore shunned young man to visit, and find themselves so smitten with the flamboyantly gay Cedric that Polly's marriage fades into insignificance.

Mitford's secondary characters - Uncle Davey who adheres to a health regime of "nothing in moderation," Uncle Matthew whose British indignation takes in just about everyone outside his immediate family - are Austenesque delightful, and her crisp prose pokes fun at every aspect of the hidebound tradition, snobbery and decadence of her class.

Vintage has recently reissued six of Mitford's novels, including this trilogy. Those who enjoy the novels of Evelyn Waugh (a friend) or Muriel Spark will appreciate Mitford's wry comedies.

I found this novel a teeny weeny bit disappointing after its superlative predecessor, 'the Pursuit of Love'. I think if I compare the two, I can see why - 'Pursuit' packs about ten novels worth of incident into its slim frame, as terse, fast, heartless and comic as 'Candide' (Mitford wrote a biography of Voltaire), full of gaps and tacit implications. 'Climate' goes back to those gaps and fills them in, following as it does relatively the same time span. This makes for a slower, more thoughtful book, which feels, on occasion, a little padded out. Similarly, both books take their cue from their heroine - 'Pursuit' is as lively, adventurous, funny and adorable as Linda; Polly in 'Climate', though beautiful, is as dull as people find her, and so, when she is in it, is her book.

I say this relatively of course; on any other terms, 'Climate' is a comic joy, full of two sublime new characters, Lady Montdore, the imperious snob, and Cedric, the stereotypical queen from untypical Nova Scotia. Add to these old favourites like Boy, Davey, and, especially, the immortal, phlegmatic Uncle Matthew; some choice set-pieces and an odd flash of the old callousness, and you have a real pleasure, especially in the second half. 'Climate''s breezy surface belies a real anger at the limited roles offered women.

Fanny Logan, the narrator of this book's prequel, THE PURSUIT OF LOVE, once again tells a hilariously stunning story. This installment focuses on her good friend Polly who is hounded by her mother, the aristocratic Lady Montdore, to make a good marriage. Polly is unquestionably the most beautiful girl in the area, but shows no interest in men until her aunt dies, and then.....there is no genteel way to say it other than all hell breaks loose.

Polly is disinherited and quickly replaced in her mother's affections by the flamboyant Cedric, an openly gay character who shocks and entices all in his glittery realm.

Mitford's writing is superb. Her clever turns of phrase, her unparalleled wit, and her ability to capture the mind and soul of each character, will leave readers not wishing to put this one down. There are numerous classic scenes and too many memorable lines to list here, but suffice it to say the last scene is a masterpiece of wit and irony that will leave the reader laughing hysterically.

Love in a Cold Climate is the 2nd in the trilogy written by Nancy Mitford (the 1st being The Pursuit of Love and the 3rd Don't Tell Alfred). I read it after The Pursuit of Love, and unfortunately the comparison doesn't favour Love in a Cold Climate: I found The Pursuit of Love wittier, more enteratining and roaring of laughter-funny. I'm sure that if I had read Love in a Cold Climate alone, I would have appreciated it more, because it is a wonderful, witty, funny and incredible book. I enjoyed it very much!

Nancy Mitford's writing style is very unique and highly enjoyable. Her dry wit and sarcastic humour reminded me sometimes of Jane Austen, the way she made fun of some of her ridiculous characters (Mrs. Elton in Emma, Mr. Collins or Lady Catherine de Bourgh in Pride and Prejudice came to mind immediately).

Definitely worth reading, but check out The Pursuit of Love also, you won't regret it.

Such a disappointment! I had been hearing about the glamorous, scandalous, sexy Mitford sisters for years -- Jessica the fiery and sexy Communist, Unity the glamorous and sexy she-Nazi, Diana the sleek and sexy fascist, Debo the demure and sexy duchess, and (last but not least) Nancy the sly and sexy writer of satirical novels. So when I got the chance at last to read LOVE IN A COLD CLIMATE I was expecting something like the sisters themselves were supposed to be -- sly and sexy, elegant and aristocratic.

Wrong, wrong, wrong! Who'd a thunk it? The low down here is that Nancy Mitford hates sex -- terrified of it. Finds normal men frightening and repulsive, yet has quite a soft spot for elderly gay men who wear lipstick and makeup and lounge around in women's dressing gowns. Creepy, creepy, creepy. You can see now why no one in the family thought it odd when sister Unity fell in love with Adolph Hitler!

Oh, and the satire -- where is it? Almost nothing in this book really addresses class issues in a meaningful way. There are no direct confrontations between the aristocrats and the wealthy industrial class -- much less the working poor. There's a bit of snide gossip, but again it's served cold. No sexy scandals, just bizarre and faintly repulsive stories about people who are far too creeped out by the human body to ever feel anything for anybody but themselves.

Somewhere in Nancy Mitford's life, there must have been a lot of pain. Pain in big buckets, Eugene O'Neill style family in agony type pain. But sadly, she never turned her tortured family past into a deep feeling masterpiece like LONG DAYS JOURNEY INTO NIGHT. Instead she just played it safe, writing cold and shallow novels like this one.

So sad!