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A review by zefrog
Tea Is So Intoxicating by Mary Essex
3.0
Tea Is So Intoxicating is a social satire that sits somewhat uneasily between E.F. Benson's Mapp and Lucia series and the infamous Carry On films.
Published in 1950 (and set a couple of years earlier) by Ursula Bloom, under one of her many noms de plumes, the book works on two levels, poking fun at small village politics, while casting a wry look at the personal sphere and its newly, more relaxed mores.
Essex/Bloom depicts a world no longer held by the socially liberating turmoil of the war and trying to cobble a new equilibrium. Although it is obvious that things can't go back to how they were (and the old order is literally dying), the author seems in the end to rally with the forces of conservatism that are trying to reassert themselves. New ways may have their alluring and deceptive charms, but, in the end, there is, it seems, a lot to be said for comfort, conformity, and predictability.
As a book written by a woman, the male characters are not presented in a positive light, but the women fare only marginally better. Together with its structure as an ensemble piece (without any truly central character), this lack of real likability in any of its characters (most of them recognisable types) is perhaps the main problem of a book, that, while mildly amusing and full of mordant observations, failed to really engage me. I didn't particularly care about what was happening and who it was happening to. A common pitfall of satirical fiction, unfortunately.
Published in 1950 (and set a couple of years earlier) by Ursula Bloom, under one of her many noms de plumes, the book works on two levels, poking fun at small village politics, while casting a wry look at the personal sphere and its newly, more relaxed mores.
Essex/Bloom depicts a world no longer held by the socially liberating turmoil of the war and trying to cobble a new equilibrium. Although it is obvious that things can't go back to how they were (and the old order is literally dying), the author seems in the end to rally with the forces of conservatism that are trying to reassert themselves. New ways may have their alluring and deceptive charms, but, in the end, there is, it seems, a lot to be said for comfort, conformity, and predictability.
As a book written by a woman, the male characters are not presented in a positive light, but the women fare only marginally better. Together with its structure as an ensemble piece (without any truly central character), this lack of real likability in any of its characters (most of them recognisable types) is perhaps the main problem of a book, that, while mildly amusing and full of mordant observations, failed to really engage me. I didn't particularly care about what was happening and who it was happening to. A common pitfall of satirical fiction, unfortunately.