The Secret Countess

The stunning cover

STUPIDLY SIMPLISTIC SYNOPSIS: Countess works in big house. Earl falls in love with her. They get married against all odds.

Since the age of 12 'The Secret Countess' has remained my favourite book. It is a book I can devour in hours and that I have affectionately reread. However, some may say that it is flawed and no more than average. Although in some aspects I would be forced to agree, I continue to faithfully adore it!

It is set after WWI in a large country house in England. Perhaps the time is somewhat inaccurately described, but the rose-tinted world Ibbotson paints is so picturesque, that it needn't belong to the past, but instead to a fairytale. It seems as if Ibbotson desires a world of ideals and wishes her audience to believe in it too. And I do believe in fairytales, I do, I do! However, if you don't (and shame on you) if you like a tragic, gritty love story, then perhaps you will find fault with this. Perhaps you will crush the loving portrait of Russia and replace it with a bloodier, revolution torn country. Historically, you would be more accurate, but in the context of this novel it would be so wrong!

The plot itself is, on the whole, unimaginative: boy meets girl, they fall in love and then something devastatingly rips them apart... only for them to be reunited a few pages later. Despite this, the intricacies are what make Eva Ibbotson such a brilliant writer. The individual strands of story: the moonlight meeting by the lake; the encounter in the hairdressers; are so deliciously beautiful that one can forget the lack of realism. Although Anna is a countess, we are led to believe that her integration into the world of service is comparatively smooth; that despite probably never having dressed herself, she develops the ability of hard work and obedience in minutes. This is again something the cynics can tear apart, but for a romantic like me, it just adds to the perfection.

The final element of the novel is the characters. They form an ensemble like that of a theatre, or in a family. Each have a position and a regard or respect for the other. They may lack depth, in fact they do not portray many negative characteristics, but that does not seem to matter. They are there for affection, for quirky individual traits that Ibbotson includes so lavishly; be it a certain regard for one's muscular development, or a tendency to take out one's ear trumpet to signal the end of a conversation. The main issue arises from the two star crossed lovers: Rupert and Anna. This book is certainly no feminist feast. Anna is spirited and strong in a way that allows her to bow down to men. Rupert, on the other hand, is absolved of all blame for the way he treats his fiance. He is 'ensnared' by another woman who we are taught to despise for one sole trait: a fascination with eugenics. But does it matter? I, for one, want to believe love can be so simple and perfect. 

So there you have it, a less complimentary than intended summary of my favourite book. The real reason I love this book is it manages to be peaceful and lovely without being blatantly stupid. It is no Mills and Boon. Ibbotson revels in a well turned phrase and delicate plot developments, even if the overall effect and profoundness is less stunning.