I loved this first novel by Helen Simonson called, Major Pettigrew's Last Stand.
Despite any other claims, it's a love story. Love of country, love of family history, love of wife/partner, love of son, love of brother. Love even of neighbors who are, in fact, not lovable at all. Major Pettigrew is charming - not just because he's of the old, English aristocracy - hunkering down (some might suggest "moldering") in a small country village and hanging on to his family pedigree while all others around him are abandoning his ways for more abrupt language, relationships and modern habits. He's charming because he's witty, self-effacing and kind, and because he's genuinely confused and troubled by what he sees as a degradation of society. You know, "himself as final steward" and all that British tradition stuff that we Americans love to feel superior about!
His only brother's death is quite a shock to the 68-year-old widower, and yet he doesn't hesitate to acknowledge the opportunity this presents to reunite a pair of two classic Churchill guns left to the brothers by their father. The father's dying wish was that while he left one gun to each brother, the two guns should be brought back together for the following generation, and the good Major has every intention of following his father's dying instruction. That such instruction leaves the Major with the much coveted pair is *of course not* part of his urgency. His intentions are most noble and selfless.
Unfortunately, his horrid sister-in-law (the brother's widow) and even his own son see things differently. The pair of guns is worth $100,000 pounds or more, and it takes all of the Major's wit and charm to maneuver around his relatives "base desire" to sell immediately. His daydreams of going on a shoot with the two guns causing an appropriate sensation are some of the cleverest parts of the book.
In the midst of al this, the typical village gossip, prejudice and silliness parade about, creating frictions and drama. And, very unlikely as it is, the Major also falls in love with a most unsuitable partner - Mrs. Ali, the village shopkeeper and a recent widow -- someone whose very presence in the town challenges his status of aristocracy. She is, after all, not just a shopkeeper but also Pakistani. When challenged to make a call, he laments that "I don't know how to be other than the man I am."
This moment of lament is literally a Cinderella story. Mrs. Ali runs from him at a dance put on by the golf club, dashing down the stairs in obligation to her own family and running from the small minded actions of the Major's upper crust neighbors. He must decide in a moment to follow her -- and thus follow his heart and his own moral code -- or to stay at the dance and maintain decorum amid the assembled "polite" company.
Do not despair, gentle reader: He makes up for his choice of tradition at the dance by later tracking down the love interest and making the decision to play his hand for love. The chase, rescue and subsequent seduction of Mrs. Ali is a wonderful twist. The Major is, after all, a very unlikely James Bond sort of hero. Still, he pulls it off with panache.
The whole story is quirky and rambling, and many of the characters (including the Major's son) act quite ridiculous. Several are true heros/heroines and made me cheer out loud for their interests. But the one word that describes how I felt at the end is "lovely." This is a lovely story. With a wonderful message and subtle lesson. I really enjoyed it. At the close of the last chapter, I went back immediately to the beginning and read the first 100 pages again.
If you like a story to have flawed, human characters who tackle life with grit and good humor, then this is a story for you.
Check out Major Pettigrew's Last Stand - which I'm recommending as "last week of summer beach reading" to everyone!
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