Wall Street Journal - Sam Sacks
"It is hard not to see Troy Chimneys as something as a rebuttal to the civilized romance of Pride and Prejudice . . . The bite of sadness at the end of this surprising novel leaves a deeper gash than one expects from a book of such impeccable manners . . . Truly original."
Anita Brookner
Troy Chimneys is a disconcerting novel . . . If [its manner] marries uneasily with the tradition of the English novel as practised halfway through the twentieth century, then it must be allowed that Margaret Kennedy cannot be relied upon to give her readers what they think they have been led to expect. She is disconcerting in her preoccupa- tions, disconcerting in her methods, and technically more learned and experimental than many of her successors.”
The Guardian - Elizabeth Jenkins
An extremely accomplished re-creation of the period. Its texture has the richness that comes from a structure that is both elaborate and distinct . . . Another contrast in the work is the polished simplicity which indicates such a high degree of technical skill and the imaginative strangeness with which the picture is tinted. The felicities are numerous, now bold like landscape, now subtle as the variations of light.”
Serena Mackesy
It was light-touch satire, and wry and incisive social observation, that formed the common threads that bind Kennedy’s novels together . . . [She] combined imagina- tion, observation and a powerful flair for human psychol- ogy to create real, walking, talking individuals whose choices had profound, often disastrous, repercussions that often spread far beyond their social spheres.”
Kirkus Reviews
2022-01-19
A sophisticated historical novel set in Regency England explores the moral dilemmas and internal conflicts of politician Miles Lufton, an unsettled figure.
Best known for her novel The Constant Nymph, Kennedy, author of many works of fiction, died in 1967. This book, first published in 1953 and winner of the James Tait Black Memorial Prize, offers an unusual character portrait revealed through complex layers of narration (diaries, letters) bound together with a nonlinear timeline. Lufton, son of a clergyman and one of seven children, is a clever and ambitious boy who will grow up ever conscious of disparities of class, connection, and property: “I was nobody, because I was heir to nothing.” He enjoys the pleasures of wealth but is uncertain of direction—should he become a clergyman, too, or study law? Eventually he finds a role as a Member of Parliament, but even that leaves him dissatisfied. And then there’s the question of identity. Miles sees himself as two people, his thoughtful self outshone by the “universal geniality” of his more ebullient side. There are two women in his life, the first a survivor of the French Revolution who marries a cousin instead and, later, Caroline Audley, who discerns the same split in his makeup: “The private Mr. Lufton likes solitude and hates the world. The political Mr. Lufton never forgets his duty, and will pay compliments before breakfast.” Caught between these two personae, the dissatisfactions of his career, and other complicated involvements with friends both rich and poor, Lufton's path is at times a melancholy one which Kennedy interrupts to offer disquisitions on belief, suffering, happiness, and self-knowledge. The historic tone is captured with erudition and wit, while the dilemmas of the novel’s flawed hero have a distinctly contemporary edge.
For the right Anglophile reader, a pleasing curiosity.
