The Bachelors
by Muriel Spark (1960)
New Directions (1999)
186 pp
Muriel Spark’s fifth novel felt like solid ground after the strangeness of Memento Mori and The Ballad of Peckham Rye, and I was pleasantly surprised by how well I managed to keep track of this relatively large cast and their various strange goings-on. That doesn’t mean I feel like I entirely have a handle on it! I thoroughly enjoyed it nevertheless. I mean, how could one resist this opening?
Daylight was appearing over London, the great city of bachelors. Half-pint bottles of milk began to be stood on the doorsteps of houses containing single apartments from Hampstead Heath to Greenwich Park, and from Wanstead Flats to Putney Heath; but especially in Hampstead, especially in Kensington.
At the center is a criminal case: Patrick Seton, a spiritual medium, is on trial for forgery and criminal conversion after receiving £2000 from Freda Flower, who still admires him. The prosecutor Martin Bowles has retained Ronald Bridges for his expertise in identifying forged documents. Patrick’s pregnant girlfriend, Alice Dawes, is eagerly awaiting his acquittal so they can finally marry and leave for their honeymoon (assuming Patrick’s divorce goes through—it won’t, if he’s even married). Some suspect Patrick may even be plotting to murder Alice, though no one seems entirely sure why. Alice’s roommate, Elsie Forrest, has meanwhile become enthralled by a priest.
And there are still more characters, all carrying on their own peculiar schemes and entanglements. Again, I’m proud I managed to keep it all straight.
Now, what exactly was I reading? A recurring theme seemed to be influence (spiritual, sexual, financial) and the betrayals that follow from it. You know, the usual day-to-day among London’s bachelors and singles in the early 1960s. Intriguing, funny, and in vintage Sparkian fashion, wonderfully biting.
