Author Helen DeWitt.
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American novelist Helen DeWitt’s 2022 novel, The English Understand Wool starts and ends with the same line – “The English understand wool.” In between these lines is an extraordinary, delightful satire about growing up with wealth and taste and the perils of the publishing industry.
In this 70-page novella, DeWitt grants a voice to her 17-year-old protagonist who narrates in a matter-of-fact way how she was brought up, the lessons her mother imparted to her, and everything that’s c’est curiex – curious – about the world. Her mother – maman as she calls her – has strong opinions about how one must conduct oneself and the roles that each of us plays. For instance, she speaks French with “a pure Parisian accent”, “standard Arabic” on formal occasions, and “Daridja, the Moroccan form of Arabic” with the servants. She considers it “mauvais ton” – poor taste – to “inflict one’s music on persons who have expressed no desire to hear it.” It is important to know one’s place at all times.
Maman and Marguerite
Similarly, one must be aware of one’s strengths too – for instance, the Irish understand linen while the Scots understand wool. She had found a Thai seamstress whom she relocated to Paris so she could sew a new outfit in cotton, silk, satin, velvet or brocade whenever maman needed it. Stationed in Marrakech, a trip to Paris is easier than Bangkok. Maman, who “advises prudence” in young women is at the centre of 17-year-old Marguerite’s existence. She does not mind her mother’s austere approach to living – instead, she says, “Maman was exigeante – there is no English word – and I had the benefit of her training.” By age seven, Marguerite had learned bridge for it is easier to let children enjoy adult pleasures than the other way around. It is important to keep yourself entertained, so Marguerite was set up for tennis lessons at the Royal Tennis Academy.
Her dual life in Marrakech and Paris makes Marguerite makes her receptive to the idiosyncrasies of various kinds of lives and experiences. A primarily Muslim city, her mother would give the staff long leaves during Ramadan and Eid – a decision that yielded happy results for the family and their business. Out on her own travels in this period, Maman liked places where there were “secret lives”, like Grenada, Venice, and Paris.
However, Marguerite’s life – despite her considerable wealth – is not a bed of roses. Maman and her father are not what they claim to be. Shocking revelations are made. The story of this strange girl’s strange life breaks into the world and publishers start hankering her to write a memoir or at least an account of how it all unfolded.
Understanding wool
When Marguerite recounts her life to her agent, she answers: “This seems like a lot of backstory, making the reader wait for the main event.” The agent goes on to advise her to “talk” about her feelings. Marguerite doesn’t reply to her letter. She reasons it as unnecessary: “So perhaps there were people who would like to hear about feelings, but I did not think they were people I would like to know.” The agent refuses to take the hint. She’s quite determined to pry. “Did it really never strike you that the woman you thought was your mother was cold?”, she asks. To which the girl simply replies, “No.” Refusing to back down, the agent after many fruitless conversations declares, “I can talk till I’m blue in the face.”
The sensational story refuses to come. Marguerite is made of sterner stuff and she’ll not yield to the philistine demands of her agent, or the publishing industry at large. For all her faults, Maman has taught her to be principled, headstrong, and fight for what she believes in. To not impose “mauvais ton” on anyone no matter how masochistic they might appear to be. To turn one’s perfectly decent life into a sob story for the sake of a few eyeballs and quick cash is beneath Marguerite. This is not the first time she has had to deal with tiresome adults. Stripped of her wealth and status, she is suddenly exposed to the crude ways of most people. A luncheon in a New York City restaurant tests her patience when they refuse to serve her alcohol for being underage. She dismisses it as “idiocy” when the staff refuses to see that she has the fine sensibilities to “respect a good wine.”
Marguerite’s quirks can either be overbearing or comedic depending on the situation. Either way, an ingenious, eccentric individual is subjected to straitjacket treatment by the money-minded and myopic publishing industry. Her resistance to her agent’s suggestions is as much a rebellion as it is an invitation to her to see the various versions of “truth”. Marguerite’s version, even without the exaggerated displays of emotions, is adequate to convey the violent shift of her life. To tell her story in any other way would be “mauvis ton”
The English understand wool, the French wine, the Belgians chocolate, the Swiss discretion, the Arabs honour. Everyone has a speciality and they must stick to it. Learn to perfect it. Marguerite’s story, in the hands of the wrong person, would become ignoble. She understands her “wool” and what to do with it, even if the rest of the world is not convinced of her skills or method.
The protagonist’s eccentricities are in agreement with DeWitt’s own choice to confine the story she wants to tell within a daring 70 pages. Did no agent or publisher insist she stretch the story to at least a respectable 100 pages? A very short book is as difficult to sell as a weighty tome. DeWitt’s confident, frugal writing keeps the story devoid of any fat. She quite literally cuts the long story short and gives us only what is necessary. To her, the reader is not entitled to know everything or for the character to trip over her emotions to become real for the reader.
There is pleasure in having morals and abiding by your convictions. Not all convention is instituted for the individual good. Possibilities abound in such freedom. There is also joy in being a rebel – even if it is to tell your own story on your own terms.
The English Understand Wool, Helen DeWitt, New Directions Publishing.
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