Muv
The Story of the Mitford Girls' Mother
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- £8.99
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- £8.99
Publisher Description
'[A] clear-eyed portrait of the woman whose lot it was to be the mother of the rebellious Mitford daughters' – Daily Mail (Book of the Week)
'Intriguing and informative' – Nicky Haslam, The Oldie
'Rachel Trethewey has done the seemingly impossible in a book about the Mitfords: she has found something original to say, thanks to her excellent scholarship, and has written Muv's story exceptionally well.' – Simon Heffer, author of Sing As We Go: Britain Between the Wars
Nancy, Pamela, Diana, Unity, Jessica, Deborah: these are the flamboyant Mitford Girls, the Bright Young Things who defined their era. The trials, tribulations and outrageous escapades of these six controversial sisters continue to fascinate us. Yet what about the seventh and arguably most vital Mitford woman of them all – their mother?
Sydney Redesdale, known as 'Muv', is often portrayed as different from her daughters – outside of that exclusive girl gang. Without doubt, she was a divisive character, her daughters squabbling about the 'real Muv' for even longer than they argued about their political differences. They could never agree: was she a scapegoat or saint, mother or manager? Even later biographers couldn't quite pin her down: just who was this elusive woman who nurtured such colourful children?
How could these exceptional daughters have sprung from such apparently ordinary parents? In reality, Sydney was far from 'ordinary': she was the original Mitford girl, from whom much of her daughters' legendary strong will, self-confidence and extremism was born. Set against the backdrop of a country and a family divided, the story of her life – one of eccentricity, tragedy and resilience – is told here in full for the first time.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
This slippery account from journalist Trethewey (Mothers of the Mind) seeks to reevaluate Sydney Bowles Mitford, the mother of the six "eccentric" Mitford sisters. Trethewey pushes back against previous depictions—some penned by her own daughters—that cast Sydney (1880–1963) as foolish or cold, while also wrestling with the implications of her lifelong support for Hitler. Beginning with her youth spent in thrall to her "charismatic, self-made" father, Trethewey paints Sydney as stubborn but loving. She tracks Sydney into marriage—to the irascible David "Farve" Mitford—and early motherhood, attempting to show that the Mitford home was mostly happy by favoring the more upbeat recollections of the younger daughters as opposed to elder girls' discontent, and humanizing the well-heeled family by poking fun at Farve's poor business insticts. But as WWII looms, the author's insistent evenhandedness begins to strain—Sydney's open support for Hitler is chalked up to a fundamental naivete, though elsewhere the author defends her shrewdness. Throughout, this history presupposes a false binary between good parenting and bad politics, and between the readers' capacity for censure and sympathy. Trethewey's central argument, that Sydney's "maverick inheritance" and "genuine devotion" had a powerful effect on her daughters, tracks—but the notion that Sydney herself "had the potential to be a rebel" is not convincing. It's an uneven attempt at an unnecessary reclamation.