This book is absolutely delightful. Charming, funny -- a perfect combo of dry British humour with something close to farce in the tradition of  Three Men In A Boat -- and light without being silly or frivolous. Written in 1922, from the author's base in Portofino, Italy, in which it is set, the novel brings together four English women, previously unknown to each other, for a get-away-from-it-all vacation in a rented medieval castle (think of a 1920s airbnb).

What they are getting away from informs both their characters and their character arcs -- and lends the novel its gravitas. From lives variously dull, stagnant, unhappy, and grief-ridden, their transformation is brought about by the gorgeous setting, lovingly and beautifully described by von Arnim, and by, in fact, each other.

This is a perfect summer read, perhaps especially summer of 2017. It was escapist then, in post-WWI Europe, as it is now, but who is to quibble with a little escapism? I found this truly enchanting book's verdant nature, blossoming friendships, and reinvigorated love as restorative for me as they were for its characters.

(Audiobook, with excellent reading by Nadia May.)

When Lotty Wilkins, wilted but not empty in spirit, found an advertisement in the London Times one damp and miserable February afternoon regarding a small medieval Italian castle on the shoes of the Mediterranean to be let, furnished, for the month of April, she could not resist. The notice beckoned "to Those Who Appreciate Wisteria and Sunshine" and Mrs. Wilkins certainly needed sunshine in her life. Her enthusiasm for the place spreads to Mrs. Rose Arbuthnot, a pious woman secretly nursing the pain of lost love, for much as she loves her husband she cannot seem to reconcile the rather unconventional books he writes and her belief in doing right "in God's eyes" and thus they have been estranged for many years. Lotty, too, wishes her marriage might hold more and she longs to escape to a place where she could allow herself to blossom as she has not been able to in her own home. Lotty and Rose soon find two other women to help defray the costs of the villa: elderly Mrs. Fisher, who clings to the past with all the energy left in her frail life, and seems to find more to enjoy in the writings of famous friends long dead than in the vibrancy and youth around her; and Lady Caroline, an incredibility beautiful member of the aristocracy, who wants only to be left to herself but who, despite her attempts at being cold and unfriendly, can be seen only as enchanting and angelic by those around her who continue to "grab" at her in London and prompt her escape Italy.

When the women arrive abroad, they find that the beauty of the Italian April truly enchants them—and that it begins to make them feel not only more connected with their inner self, but also more generous and loving to the world around them. This, then, is a story of how sometimes getting away from it all brings you back to everything that matters most. I love the story so dearly I don't feel I can write an adequate review. I am deeply grateful to my friends who encouraged me to read this—and encourage those who have not yet read it to do so. I think that many of us have had the yearning to experience something new in life, have seen how visiting someplace different can help us understand the familiar a little bit more while at the same time opening up a new facet of our own self.

It's my second read of this book, and this time I did a read/listen. Four women, in all their imperfections, are off to stay for a month in a castle in Italy. The castle, Italy, the companionship---all of these work their magic on the four, and they leave the castle as better people.

The Enchanted April may be my new favorite book.

April is apparently the cruelest month, but my nomination would probably be those four weeks or so spanning the middle of October on up to Thanksgiving; I can't speak for anyone else, but for anybody on an academic calendar it's an interminably long period with not even a single three day weekend for some kind of brief respite, and Thanksgiving break is reached more or less in a state of exhaustion. It was during this period that I realized that if I couldn't actually take a vacation I was going to take a literary one, and I took this off the shelf, which I had been saving for just such an occasion.

And it pretty much did the trick. It's a lovely novel, and I took a long, leisurely amount of time to read it, picking it up on occasions when I just couldn't bring myself to read anything else (even though there was always so much more that should and needed to have been read) or during bouts of insomnia caused by incessant thinking over what I still needed to get done. There's not much I feel like I can say about this novel, not that I feel much needs to be said; it's more or less how four British women, similar only in a vague but profound sense of dissatisfaction with their lives, on a whim rent a villa on the Italian coast for the titular month. But what seems like an indulgent lark quickly blossoms into four weeks of rapturous transformation for all four women (as well as several individuals they are close to). Once the women arrive in Italy the narrative is sustained through the type of problems such as "oh, how is Mrs. X going to respond to Mrs. Y doing Z?", but that's a great part of its appeal—it's not a matter of if a character is going to undergo positive mental, emotional and even physical transformation, but a matter of how much. Really, Von Arnim manages to do a whole lot with material that many other writers would have a hard time using to sustain a short story (though Von Arnim doesn't realize that a little landscape description goes a long way).

In a curious coincidence, in 1922 Eliot proclaimed April "the cruellest month," while the very same year Von Arnim declared it enchanted. Though the traditional literary canon would disagree, I have to side with Von Arnim on this one.

"Rose clasped her hands tight round her knees. How passionately she longed to be important to somebody again—not important on platforms, not important as an asset in an organisation, but privately important, just to one other person, quite privately, nobody else to know or notice. It didn't seem much to ask in a world so crowded with people, just to have one of them, only one out of all the millions, to oneself. Somebody who needed on, who thought of one, who was eager to come to one—oh, oh how dreadfully one wanted to be precious!"

"'It’s this place,’ she said, nodding at him. ‘It makes one understand. You’ve no idea what you’ll understand before you’ve done here.’”

This story had a definite feminine feel. I’m not talking about the fact that it’s about four women on holiday together, or that it is focused on relationships, or even that flowers play a prominent role. What felt feminine to me--because it reminded me of strong women I’ve known--was the longing wrapped in sarcasm, the acceptance of reality that exists alongside a belief in magic.

The pace was s-l-o-w. But that added to the luxurious, holiday feel of it. Take a deep breath. Smell the acacias. Settle in and enjoy.

The best part was Elizabeth von Arnim’s unique voice. She had a way of switching things up mid-sentence that I love. And while she had me chuckling at the joke, I was learning much about her characters.

“Mrs. Wilkins’s clothes were what her husband, urging her to save, called modest and becoming and her acquaintance to each other, when they spoke of her at all, which was seldom for she was very negligible, called a perfect sight.”

I’m going to read more von Arnim. "All the Dogs of My Life" will probably always be my favorite, but reading her words is such a pleasure, I don’t want to miss any of them.

A brilliant novel where the core of its brilliancy are complex (not black and white), ordinary and marvelously chosen characters.

Caroline, Lotty, Rose, Mrs. Fisher - four different women. Each one tried to run away from something she wanted and needed the most.

As Emilia Barnes wrote it was n  calm, gentle, prettily written, thoughtful, wistful, with a comprehensive happy endingn novel. I have also doubts, like Emilia Barnes. I worry a bit about Lotty and Caroline but I hope they managed after all.

The especially interesting thing in the book was that one can see it just as a charming romance or one can see (what I saw) also the second level. To me, there were stories of being a woman (not only then...). Their places in a marriage, the confrontation between dreams (needs) and reality.

I am enchanted by the book and by the belief that such happy endings are possible.

There's something about The Enchanted April that is so unlike any other book I've ever read. It's so happy, beautiful. filled with freshness and fragrance, that the restorative powers of the Italian castle seep out of the pages and can't help but brighten the mood of the reader too. In the copy I was reading it was stated that Von Arnim wanted to subvert certain expectations just by writing something happy - far more difficult as happiness is very unlikely to cause any drama, conflict or other scenarios which great storytelling tends to rely on. Somehow she manages it with ease.

I reread this book most years as a comfort read, and as I was meant to be heading to Italy at the moment, I thought I would take a book holiday instead. I'm always impressed by how much Von Arnim makes this book work in so many ways, seemingly against all odds. To be honest, Lotty (Mrs Wilkins) is the exact sort of person who would irritate the hell out of me in real life, and yet here she's sweet and endearing. Scrap, too, has few redeeming features and yet is somehow one of my favourite characters of all time. I also find the whole set up pretty dubious....but in this case I believe it. Even the vaguely sanctimonious Rose grew on me this time, and I found her a complete pleasure to revisit.

It's a gentle, sunshine-drenched read that leaves you feeling happy and content and doesn't require a lot of energy. There are some questionable moments (Scrap being called as decent as a man and finding this a huge compliment) but I can forgive these for the sheer joy this book brings.

The perfect book for spring and when you need a pick me up.

5 stars

I find Enchanted April to be an extremely difficult book to review. The book is too close to my heart. Not in the same way that Possession or The Lord of the Rings are, but in some secret hidden corner.

Enchanted April is about four women who rediscover life. It is about four women who rediscover the meaning of friendship. It's about four women who learn to leave the prejudices behind. It is about the discovery and rediscovery of love. Above all, it is about Italy.

The book is one those perfect books, nothing seems to happen but everything happens. The book is part fairy tale, part reality, and part oh so British magical Italy. It is old-fashioned, but current. It is a perfection of contradictions. It is a love sonnect in prose that smells of flowers and feels of sun and warm grass. Good food and wine are on offer.

And everyone, regardless of age, size, or sex, is beautiful.

This is one of those books that has a seemingly simple story but presents a lot on the layers of the story, much like The Feast or Miss Buncle's Book. Four women who need to get away from their regular lives and get their heads together rent an Italian castle with the promise of sunshine and wisteria. They don't realize why they so desperately need a change when they flee gray, raining London for sunny San Salvatore Castello in Italy. However, as they are surrounded by beauty their eyes are gradually opened.

I loved that what happened was that having four such different women together (and one suddenly blessed with profound insights) helped show them all the truth about themselves ...which was badly needed so they could choose to improve their lives by making course corrections.

This book richly rewards rereading. Thinking of it in Catholic terms, one can hardly miss that the women travel in darkness up the mountain to San Salvatore (Holy Savior) with Easter coming up. They discover immense beauty that changes them all simply from being in its presence. And this change begins to spread to others. It put me in mind of the Transfiguration.

As I said, sweetly done and yet seeming very modern in the problems they all faced.

Ingannevole è Aprile più di ogni cosa.

Oggi il cielo è azzurrissimo, terso, luminoso.
Probabilmente è lo stesso cielo che le quattro donne protagoniste del romanzo, Rose e Lotty, Mrs Fisher e Lady Caroline, hanno guardato a bocca aperta spalancando le finestre del castello di San Salvatore.
Ma partiamo dal principio, cioè da quando a Londra, in una giornata grigia e piovosa, la timida e insoddisfatta Lotty Wilkins legge sul Times l'annuncio dell'affitto del castello di San Salvatore in Liguria, per gli amanti del glicine e del sole recita l'annuncio, e vincendo il suo stesso impaccio, tanto forte è il desiderio di sottrarsi per un mese ad un ménage matrimoniale spento e insoddisfacente, propone a Rose Arbuthnot, sconosciuta frequentatrice del suo stesso club, di dividere le spese e partire con lei.
Non bisogna ignorare il fatto che il romanzo è scritto nel 1922 e che se oggi può apparire normale che due donne sposate decidano di "abbandonare" i mariti e regalarsi una vacanza in Italia, anche nella modernissima Londra è necessario ricorrere a qualche piccolo sotterfugio per vedere realizzato il proprio desiderio; piccoli inganni ai quali anche Lotty dovrà ricorrere, ma non Rose che, invece, annullata nel volontariato e assorbita da una fede bigotta, ha un matrimonio che marcia nel disinteresse di entrambi i coniugi su binari paralleli.
E così, una volta sistemati i mariti e trovate per mezzo di un altro annuncio sul Times l'anziana e nostalgica "dei tempi andati" Mrs. Fisher e la giovane e affascinante Lady Caroline con le quali dividere le spese per l'affitto, dalla piovosa Inghilterra, ci troviamo anche noi, come d'incanto, a spalancare le finestre sulla riviera ligure inondata di sole, colori e profumi.
Ed è lì, completamente rapite dalla bellezza della natura, estasiate dalla vista del mare, stordite da profumi inebrianti, sedotte da un tripudio di colori e dal continuo avvicendarsi di glicini rose e fiori mai visti prima, come l'albero di Giuda che ammanta la terra di petali color rosa intenso, che Lotty e Rose, Mrs. Fisher e Lady Caroline, iniziano lentamente a fare i conti con se stesse e a far pace con il proprio mondo, a partire da quello interiore.

È un romanzo in cui al silenzio esteriore, alla pace in cui si trovano immerse e assorte le quattro donne, si contrappone con intensità il brulichio dei pensieri di ciascuna di loro. Sembra quasi di sentire il ronzio delle loro menti, di vederne crescere, come fiori nei campi, il desiderio di pacificazione, di armonia e di vedere innaffiare, ogni giorno che passa, i teneri germogli che stanno spuntando.
Ed io, all'inizio, mi sono lasciata inebriare e convincere da questo potere della Natura, perché io stessa ne sono "vittima".
Quante volte davanti ad un tramonto, o sulla spiaggia delle Maldive dov'ero fuggita ormai più di quindici anni fa in cerca di silenzio e tranquillità, mi sono trovata ad abbeverarmi della bellezza che mi circonda e a dire a me stessa come si può essere infelici di fronte ad una spiaggia dalla sabbia bianca e finissima, ad un gatto che si rotola al sole, ad un campo di lavanda, al sole che si tuffa nel mare! Quante volte mi sono detta che se io amo il mondo, se io amo una persona, quella persona e il mondo non possono che ricambiare il mio amore?
Eppure non è così, non è vero, per questo credo che la bellezza della Natura sia ingannevole, per questo mi sento truffata.

Così, proseguendo nella lettura di «Un incantevole Aprile» in cui, invece, tutte le tessere del mosaico si incastrano alla perfezione ed ogni più piccola asperità viene levigata semplicemente grazie all'incanto del luogo, per contrapposizione - o per rappresaglia? - ho iniziato a pensare, e a ripetere tipo mantra a me stessa, in una mente che brulicava anch'essa di pensieri, che Aprile è il più crudele dei mesi e che non è affatto vero che la bellezza, che la Natura, sistema ogni cosa.
Al punto che sabato, nel consueto incontro con il mio psicoterapeuta, tra il racconto di un attacco di panico e di un sogno, gli ho parlato anche di questo.
Patrizia - mi ha detto - ma lei confonde la bellezza della Natura con la ricerca dell'armonia! La Natura per mostrarle la sua bellezza deve sottostare ad equilibri che, se li osserva bene, possono invece apparire crudeli, come quello del leone che sbrana una gazzella!
E allora, rabbrividendo al pensiero della povera gazzella, mi chiedo, come la mettiamo?
Quest'Aprile com'è, incantevole o crudele?

Alla fine penso che forse sia entrambe le cose, perché, ancora forse, per accettare che il leone sbrani la gazzella ho bisogno di vedere, come anche questa mattina sulla strada che da casa mi porta al lavoro in questa Roma ai margini, un volo di aironi sopra la mia auto, un volo che mi aiuta a credere che ad ogni Aprile crudele possa corrisponderne sempre, o quasi, uno incantevole.
E io, almeno per questa volta, ho deciso, di lasciarmi incantare ed ingannare.



Elizabeth von Arnim, il cui vero nome era Mary Annette Beauchamp era cugina di Katherine Mansfield Beauchamp.
Se penso ai racconti che ho letto della Mansfield e li confronto con questo romanzo della von Arnim, mi accorgo che entrambe fanno della Natura un protagonista aggiuntivo delle loro storie, ma se nella von Arnim la Natura agisce da elemento conciliatore, nella Mansfield è sempre spettatrice di un dramma interiore celato.
Come dire che se la visione della vita della von Arnim era romantica (ma avrò bisogno di leggere altro di quest'autrice per trovarne conferma) quella della Mansfield era di rassegnazione di fronte all'ineluttabile crudeltà della vita stessa.
Chissà se la Mansfield, appena un anno prima che la sua giovane vita venisse stroncata, aveva letto e condiviso «Terra desolata» di Eliot piuttosto che "Un incantevole Aprile" di sua cugina Mary Annette? E la von Arnim, aveva letto Eliot? Ed Eliot aveva letto la Mansfield e la von Arnim?

Aprile è il più crudele dei mesi, genera
Lillà da terra morta, confondendo
Memoria e desiderio, risvegliando
Le radici sopite con la pioggia della primavera.
L'inverno ci mantenne al caldo, ottuse
Con immemore neve la terra, nutrì
Con secchi tuberi una vita misera.

(Thomas Stearns Eliot)

Published in 1922, this is a gentle, heart-warming, novel. It begins with an advert in a newspaper; a castle, in Italy, to be rented out in April. This advert is seen by the unhappy, Lotty Wilkins, who feels downtrodden by her penny pinching husband, the delightfully named Melesch. Striking up a relationship with Rose Arbuthnot, a member of her London club, who she had been distant from before, the two women hatch a plan to rent the castle for the whole month.

Eventually, Rose and Lotty find two other women to share the castle, and the cost. It is a time of planning and secrets, with Lotty almost desperate to get away and Rose, ridden with guilt for the poor and for her husband’s means of making a living through historical biographies of royal mistresses. The other two women are the beautiful socialite, Lady Caroline, known as ‘Scrap,’ and the older, grumpy, Mrs Fisher, who lives in the past.

In the sunshine, among the flowers, the group of woman, at first so separate and at odds, begin to come together. Relationships mend, fractures heal and the rediscovery of what is important. Although this is a charming and enjoyable read, I did have to put aside some of my own grumpiness, while reading it. Lotty, first nervous, and then super enthusiastic, did annoy me, a little, at first. However, eventually I relaxed into the story and, overall, am very glad I read it.

Published in 1922, this is the story of four women who spend a month sharing a house in Italy. They are strangers at first, but slowly they get to know each other, their perceptions change, and they each find an inner happiness. Lotty is a quiet woman whose personality has been suppressed. Her husband comes to stay with them and rediscovers her appealing qualities. Rose seems to be in constant internal struggles, feeling like she is not worthy of enjoying life. Her husband arrives toward the end of the holiday, and they reconnect. Mrs. Fisher at first seems to be the “old curmudgeon,” but she gradually realizes she has been living in the past and allows herself to open up to new possibilities for the future. Lady Caroline, called “Scrap,” comes to understand that her life is rather empty. It seems she will also (eventually) figure out how to move forward in a more meaningful manner.

This is a delightful book. I was surprised I enjoyed it so much. Even though it was written a hundred years ago, it seems like a positive message that carries forward to today – realizing how our perceptions shape our reality and being open to changing one’s mind away from snap judgments of other people. It is a good book to pick up when you feel the need for something optimistic or for a break between books with “heavy” content.