20 Books of Summer: Apple Bough by Noel Streatfeild

 

‘So your brother’s a world-famous violinist? That’s great! Or is it?’

Thus goes the blurb on the back of my edition of Apple Bough, Noel Streatfeild’s story of the four Forum children, whose lives are increasingly dictated by the child prodigy in their midst.

In every Noel Streatfeild children’s book I have read (and she wrote over fifty) a family is disrupted by something (usually bad), but eventually the children resolve the situation, and everybody ends up happy. In Caldicott Place, for example, the Johnstone family lives in a nice house in the suburbs – until their father has a near fatal accident and the children have to move, with their mother, into a poky flat.  Of course they hate it, and of course they can’t take their beloved dog with them…but help is at hand when the eight year old conveniently inherits a mansion. That is how things work in Streatfeild-world.

In Apple Bough there is no great disaster, but the story follows the usual path of a family being (largely unwillingly) uprooted, having a series of adventures, and finally being reunited with beloved home and beloved pet..

The Forum parents are Artistic. David is an acclaimed accompanist, Polly an artist. They all live in happy chaos at Apple Bough, their house in Essex (in 1962 there was no doubt still plenty of rural Essex left). David is up in London almost all of the time, and Polly floats about doing her painting and ‘forgetting’ about meals, laundry and life in general;

‘Most people would have thought that looking after a house and four children would be more than enough for anyone (but) it was not what Polly wanted…so she taught herself to be an artist.’

I’m not quite sure what to make of this – of course women shouldn’t have to be housewives, but it would be nice if either parent gave more than a glancing thought to their offspring occasionally. However, I'm no doubt just jealous, for in Streatfeild’s world the children – who rejoice in the names of Myra, Sebastian, Wolfgang and Ethel – are happy. Sebastian soon shows signs of child prodiginess on the violin, and because he has to do so much practice, and go to town for lessons, it’s (apparently!) ‘obvious’ that he can’t go to proper school, and because;

‘”it wouldn’t be good for Sebastian to have lessons alone” Polly told David…..”it’s most important that he shouldn’t feel different from other children”

a governess is employed.  

Noel Streatfeild (c) Bassano Ltd

In some stories governesses are mad, sad, vindictive or incompetent – but this is Streatfeild-land remember; in comes Miss Popple, ‘Popps as the children were soon calling her’, and need I tell you that the sainted Popps is, in no time, not only teaching all four children but also running the house, fixing the clothes and doing the cooking, often all at the same time;

‘She thought nothing of making a cake or a batch of scones while giving a history lesson.’

And on her second day, when she’s already knocked out a fabulous stew for lunch;

‘”I must get something for the children’s tea” said Polly. (Unconvincingly, I might add.)

“There’s no need dear, I’ve made a huge dripping cake. There was no dripping in the house, so I fetched some when I went to the butcher for the meat. I also made a fish pie for yours and Mr Forum’s suppers. I couldn’t find any cereals so I bought a packet for the children’s suppers. I hope that was right.”’

(She even gets Myra a dog, and no he’s not called Beethoven. He gets lumbered with the decidedly less artistic name of Wag.)

Dripping cakes (c) https://www.glamorousglutton.com/

Polly gets out of all this by ‘not being a manager.’  You might like to try this one for yourself…but don’t get your hopes up.  

Where the money comes from to pay Miss Popple is, of course, never mentioned. Presumably from Polly’s wealthy parents – or perhaps Miss P just does it for love…

Surprise, surprise, it’s not long before Sebastian’s genius is recognised, and he is booked to do a concert tour of the USA. David says he will go with him, but Polly is having none of it; the family must not be split up, so they will all go – and of course they will take Popps with them, because how else can they manage? It will, Polly insists, be a wonderful education for them all, and much better than dreary old school. You could do things like this in 1962. Apparently.

Wag is packed off to live with Miss Popple’s brother – for what a handy coincidence! He is a vet. Myra is devastated, but too noble to let her parents see this; indeed, she is the martyr of the story, the Beth March (though thankfully not destined for Beth’s sorry end…) and the only child who doesn’t excel at something or other; Wolgang wants to write – the horror of it! – pop music, and in the meantime is offered parts in TV shows on the strength of meeting a producer in the train; Ethel is to become a famous ballerina (‘”The most talented child I have taught since my great pupil Poppy Fossil” says Madame Fidolia, sneakily referencing Streatfeild’s most famous book, Ballet Shoes…). Poor old Myra is the peacemaker, doomed to being ‘good at being a sister’ (thank you Grandfather, I’m sure that cheered her up no end..) – but there we are, there’s always one, and at least she’s not Enid Blyton’s Anne.

So Apple Bough is sold and the family heads off on tour after tour, Sebastian earns them more and more money, Miss Popple does all the work, Polly manages (just like that…) to have a successful art exhibition  and neither parent notices that the other three children are getting fed up with constantly moving around the world, even if they do travel first class. And in true British style, they don’t like the food either – a cook is hired for them every time, but,

‘If that cook tried to serve local dishes…Miss Popple would say “Not today. What I think we’ll have is roast beef and Yorkshire. I’ll show you how to cook it.” Or “Just the weather for an Irish stew with spotted dog to follow.”’

And as for Streatfeild’s own comments on Russian food;

‘….what suited the Russians, they discovered, was rather greasy food onto which sour cream was poured.’

So much for an international education…

Russian food (c) Mari Vanna, New York Post

There’s an interlude with the grandparents in Devon (‘Devonshire’ as all four children call it, which s perhaps how all children spoke back then, though I somehow doubt it… but then Wolgang, aged 7, comes out with things like “I abhor travelling” and is more than delighted to recite the whole of Home Thoughts From Abroad at the drop of a hat. One does wonder how many people started to abhor Wolfgang…) during which, of course, Wise Grandfather hands down advice to save them all – advice that seems to consist mainly of;

‘”When you decide that the time has come to have a regular home…a way will be shown to you to make it happen.”’

And as we are still in La-La, sorry Streatfeild-land, a way is indeed shown, though not before their other grandfather (‘Mumsdad’) has also spoken Words of Wisdom and worked out a plan.

Despite its somewhat ridiculous plot, I still enjoyed Apple Bough. Obnoxious as at least two of the children are, they are well defined and I could imagine them as real people. Omniscient and impossibly perfect as the grandparents are, I know that when I was a child I would’ve liked reading about them and wishing they were mine. These books are of their time, and although they are full of unlikely events, I find their characters much more enjoyable that Enid Blyton’s unbearably priggish Julian, wimpy Anne (at least Myra wants more than she’s got and doesn’t just spend all her time arranging tins of peaches) and annoying George. The younger Forum children are really quite funny. My main problem is with the parents, who seem to have tuned vagueness into an art form – and are allowed to get away with it; but this means they are kept largely out of the way, which is after all the classic device that makes most mid-century children’s books work.

Streatfeild can tell a good story, she keeps the reader engaged, and the ending of Apple Bough will make everyone happy (apart, perhaps, for the owners of the house…)

Apple Bough by Noel Streatfeild, illustrated by Margery Gill, was published by William Collins in 1962 and republished by Virago Modern Classics in 2018